Chapter 158: "Not For The Rest Of His Life"

Gasps erupted throughout the warehouse at the sight of the young Marchetti attacking the Porto heiress without a shred of mercy.

"Huuuuuuh—"

Before Natalia could recover, Nazario threw himself on top of her, both hands shooting toward her throat.

His fingers closed around her neck, squeezing hard enough to kill.

"You wicked bitch!" he snarled. "You filthy fucking liar! How dare you frame all of this on me?! Confess it! Admit you’re behind everything! Or I’ll kill you right here and now!"

Natalia’s face quickly began to turn blue beneath the force of his grip.

Her hands flew upward.

Her nails dug into Nazario’s flesh, raking across his skin until thin lines of blood appeared, but the younger man was operating entirely on rage and desperation. He refused to release her.

"Cough—cough—!" Natalia choked, struggling beneath him. "You... ridiculous thing..."

She clawed desperately at his wrists.

"S-stop... being such a moron... and confess all your crimes..."

Eduardo was instantly alarmed.

The moment Nazario attacked Natalia, the entire situation had crossed from scandal into catastrophe.

Before the Porto men could storm onto the ring to protect their lady, Eduardo surged forward himself.

"Nazario!" he thundered.

He grabbed his son’s shoulder and hauled backward with all his strength.

"You mad bastard! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let her go!"

Nazario refused to release her.

"No, Father!" he roared, tightening his grip. "I’ve got to make her confess all her crimes! I’ve got to kill this bitch!"

Eduardo’s patience finally snapped.

"Nazario! You fucking idiot!"

He raised his fist and drove it directly into Nazario’s face.

THWACK!

The force of the punch was devastating.

Nazario went down with the momentum, his hands releasing Natalia’s throat at once.

Before he could even gather himself, Eduardo seized him by the collar and hauled him halfway upright.

Another punch landed.

THWACK!

Blood burst from Nazario’s mouth. A violent ringing tore through his ears, drowning out everything else.

When Eduardo finally released his collar, Nazario collapsed uselessly onto the canvas, all strength draining from his body.

For several seconds, Nazario could barely tell which way was up. Through the haze of his fading consciousness, he heard his father’s voice somewhere above him.

The fury in it was unmistakable.

"Take this bastard of a son of mine to the detention cell! None of you are to release him until I give permission. Do you hear me?"

The soldiers answered immediately from several directions, their heavy boots already pounding across the floor.

"Yes, Boss!"

"At once, Boss!"

Groups of Marchetti soldiers stormed onto the stage from several stairways, moving quickly to seize the Don’s second son. They grabbed Nazario by his arms and legs and lifted his limp body from the floor, blood still trailing from the corner of his mouth.

Yet, even in his dazed state, the last fragments of Nazario’s consciousness refused to accept what was happening.

’No...’

’No... Father... you can’t do this to me.’

’I am... I’m your favorite son.’

The desperate protests inside his mind quickly became real.

"No! Father!"

Nazario jerked his head upward as the soldiers carried him away, panic tearing through whatever dignity he had left.

"You can’t believe that woman!"

"Don’t lock me up!"

"I’m your pride, Father! I’m your most excellent son!"

"You can’t do this to me!"

Eduardo merely gave him another pitiful, furious look. Then he straightened his cuffs and turned toward the gathered spectators.

"My apologies for this unfortunate incident. It is my fault that I allowed this bastard to damage the reputation and integrity of the Marchetti Trials. He has also slandered Lady Natalia’s reputation without proof and orchestrated an assassination attempt against Lady Ariana of House Lombardi."

His gaze hardened as he looked toward Nazario one final time.

"As punishment, I hereby announce in front of everyone present that my second son is forbidden from participating in the Marchetti Trials for the next ten years. He will be confined to our detention quarters for six months."

Eduardo paused.

After a long, heavy silence, resolve settled across his features.

"And he will never be named the next Don of House Marchetti. Not for the rest of his life."

The warehouse fell completely silent.

The declaration hung over the crowd like a sentence handed down by a judge.

Below the ring, Giovanni exchanged glances with several Porto men. Their expressions suggested clear approval of the punishment.

Gian and the members of House Lombardi likewise nodded solemnly, while Caio looked clearly unimpressed.

’That’s all?’

Caio lifted a judging brow.

’After planning to kill her?’

The corner of his mouth twitched.

’Ridiculous.’

’I would have sliced this brat into pieces and buried him somewhere nobody would ever find him.’

For Nazario, however, every word sounded less like punishment and more like a death sentence.

Despite being restrained by several soldiers, he suddenly surged forward again.

"No! Father! You can’t!"

"This is a mistake!"

"This is all Natalia Porto’s fault!"

"Everything is her fault! Even this! This is part of her plan too!"

"You’ve got to believe me!"

Unfortunately for Nazario, Eduardo had reached the absolute limit of his patience.

"Take him away now!" he roared. "Before I beat him to death right here on this ring!"

"Yes, Boss!"

The soldiers immediately dragged Nazario away.

His screams continued even as they hauled him down the stairs and across the warehouse.

"No! No! Release me!"

"You’ve got to arrest that wicked woman!"

"Let me go! LET ME GO!"

Blood smeared the concrete beneath him, leaving a faint trail behind as the soldiers dragged him through the entrance.

On the stage, Eduardo wasted no time approaching Natalia and extended a hand toward her.

"My deepest, sincerest apologies, my dear Natalia," he said, regret weighing heavily on his face. "It was my fault. I favored him too much, and he’s grown into such an entitled disaster. I’ve made you suffer greatly because of it."

Natalia accepted his hand and rose gracefully. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then calmly straightened her disheveled clothing.

"It was simply unfortunate that Nazario turned out this way, Don Eduardo," she replied gracefully. "I’m glad you’ve cleared my name and protected me. I must thank you."

She turned toward the spectators, a gentle smile touching her lips.

"That was certainly an interruption nobody wanted, wasn’t it? Fortunately, I’m still very much alive."

A few scattered chuckles rose from the crowd.

Natalia’s smile widened slightly.

"Now, shall we allow the competition to continue? I would very much regret letting this incident disturb the show for everyone."

Several more laughs followed.

Several spectators exchanged amused glances, clearly impressed by how gracefully the Porto heiress had handled the humiliation and attempted accusation.

Rather than making a scene, she had turned the entire disaster into something she could dismiss with a touch of light humor.

Eduardo looked equally relieved.

"Natalia is right. We cannot allow this incident to disturb the competition any longer."

He gestured toward the Head Coordinator.

"Now, Head Coordinator. The stage is yours."

The Head Coordinator was just preparing to move when another voice rang out from below the ring.

"Wait."

Everyone stopped.

Every head turned.

Jordan still stood beside Aren and Oscar, his expression calm but unmistakably firm.

Eduardo’s brow furrowed.

"Jordan, what is it now?"

Jordan didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he gestured toward Aren.

"With all due respect, Father, you still haven’t apologized to Ariana."