THE MAFIA KING BROKEN ROSE novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

The silence in the room was deafening.

Not the good kind–the dangerous kind. The kind that meant things were slipping. That people were talking. Pulling out from her business, witching i bleed

Victoria paced the length of the room, heels striking the floor like gunshots. Her jaw clenched. Her hair usually perfect was tangled from her pulling at it all morning.

She slammed her fist against the glass table, cracking the edge. “I told you to keep her locked down!”

Nico didn’t flinch. He was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, mouth twisted into something close to boredom.

“You told me a lot of things,” he muttered.

Victoria whirled on him. “They were ready to pay millions, Nico. Millions! And now look–do you know how many of our backers have pulled out? How many clients think I’m weak?”

She threw a folder at him. The papers scattered–emails, contract withdrawals, messages laced with veiled threats and mocking tones.

“They called me incompetent,” she hissed. “Said I couldn’t even keep a pawn in place long enough to close a deal.”

Nico knelt slowly, picking up one of the crumpled sheets. He turned it over in his hands. “Maybe they’re not wrong.”

She froze.

“What did you say?”

He stood, gaze cold. “You’re losing your grip, Victoria. You gambled everything on a girl you couldn’t control, and now you want to blame me because you’re circling the drain?”

“Circling-?” She stepped closer, fury rising in her throat like acid. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Someone who used to be feared. Now they just pity you.”

Victoria slapped him.

Hard.

It echoed.

But what came next wasn’t what she expected.

Nico’s face barely moved. He looked at her with a calm, terrifying kind of stillness.

And then, with one swift motion, he slapped her back.

The blow wasn’t hard enough to knock her down. But it was enough to shock her.

To leave her frozen. Mouth parted.

“You forget,” Nico said, voice low. “I didn’t sign up to be your dog. You needed me. You dragged me into this war. You wanted Aria dead, not sold. Then changed your mind when you saw dollar signs.”

He stepped forward, slowly. “And now you act like I failed you?”

Victoria’s breathing was uneven. Her cheek stung. Her pride bled.

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hwarmed you once, he said. “Don’t ever raise your hand to me again, I’ve stayed quiet, loyal, because we had the same cat Butil Second t won’t walk you to wrong.

She backed away, heart racing.

This wasn’t the Nico she’d seduced into her plan months ago. That man was cold, yes, but hungry. Easy to manipulate.

This man?

He had nothing left to lose. And that made him dangerous.

“Where are you going?” she snapped, her voice trembling more than she liked.

He smirked–just a little. “Somewhere quiet. Away from whatever pathetic tantrum you’re about to throw.”

He walked past her like she was furniture. Like she didn’t matter.

The door slammed behind him.

Victoria stood still for a second. Then slowly turned to the

window.

She was shaking.

Everything… was falling apart.

The auction.

The contacts.

The loyalty she’d built in whispers and blood.

Gone.

Because of Aria.

Because of Dominic.

They’d made her look weak.

And she would never forget it.

Never forgive it.

Victoria reached for her burner phone, flipping to the encrypted app.

She typed one line and hit send:

“I want them dead. Both of them. I don’t care what it costs.”

Then she stared at her reflection in the dark glass of the window.

Eyes wild.

Pride broken.

And a rage that no slap in the world could silence.

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ood by the shattered window, her chest heaving Her handy clenched så light, har nail thu hall moon. In

hoed louder than any insult he could’ve thrown.

He thought he could humiliate her and walk away?

NO

He had no idea what she was capable of.

She grabbed her phone, switched to the emergency encryption line—the one only a few people ever dared to use. She punched in a number she hadn’t called in months.

Dominic De Luca.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then picked up.

“Victoria,” Dominic said, voice flat. Bored. Dangerous. “Bold of you to call me.”

“Save the sarcasm,” she snapped. “I have something you’ll want to hear.”

“I doubt that.”

“Do you want to know where Nico is?” she purred, lacing her words with venom. Because I do. I put him there. But don’t worry… I plan to bury him

next.”

There was a long pause. Then Dominic’s tone dropped colder. “What do

you want?”

“Oh, now you’re interested,” she said, smirking. “Typical. You only perk up when power’s involved.”

“I said—what do you want?”

“To remind you,” she said, voice sweet, “that Aria’s not just some pretty little thing you picked off the street. She’s a Fletcher. An heir. You’ve known that since the beginning, haven’t you?”

Another pause.

Then, sharper: “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” she said, laughing bitterly. “Gabriel Fletcher’s daughter. Helena’s bloodline. The only survivor of the purge your father helped organize.”

“Watch it,” Dominic growled.

“I’m not the one who needs to be careful, De Luca.” Her voice turned mocking now. “Does Aria know? That the man she sleeps next to knew everything? That you didn’t just find her–you used her. Watched her for years. Tracked her until she was ripe enough to pluck.”

“That’s enough-”

“Does she know about the vaults?” Victória pushed. “The ones only a Fletcher can access? About the offshore accounts, the keys, the blood–coded signatures? About the trust fund you’ve been quietly managing while she plays house with her enemy?”

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