LOGINI slowly shake my head because I hate doing this.“I don’t want to,” I sob quietly.He snaps the belt again. This time I scream in fright, covering my ears.“I don’t give a damn what you want!” he shouts. “I’m the one in charge here, you worthless whore. So open that mouth and suck. Don’t pretend to be a saint—we both know you’re an expert at this.”My body trembles with sobs, my throat tightening until oxygen barely reaches my lungs.I don’t want him to use me anymore.But he doesn’t care—he never has. He pulls himself out and presses it against my face, rubbing it there to humiliate me further. The nauseating smell makes bile rise in my throat.“Open your mouth!” he orders, pulling my hair so hard I feel like it might rip out.I have no choice. Through muffled sobs, I do what he demands. The taste is the most disgusting thing I have ever experienced, and death begins to feel like a reward. I’ve fought for years, but I don’t know how much longer I can endure.He grips my head and sta
The mysterious man does not appear again for the rest of the night, but I will always be grateful that he noticed me—my feelings, not my body—that he looked into my eyes and not at my breasts. Perhaps he will never know it, but with that gesture he healed something he had never broken and planted a spark of hope in the middle of so much darkness.The sound of glass shattering pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see Edoardo clumsily standing up, breaking a few glasses in the process. He is drunk, and that only means my night will be even worse than I expected.“Well, I think it’s time for my wife and me to leave and consummate our marriage,” he announces with a grin, and my skin crawls.I don’t want to. Damn it, of course I don’t want to go there, and my whole body stiffens knowing the moment is now inevitable.The other men cheer him on with a barrage of insults and filthy jokes typical of them. I try not to listen so I won’t feel even worse.I search for my cousin’s face—my only
A murmur rises at the entrance. A tall man I think I recognize walks in, and several men approach to greet him.“What’s Ferretti doing here alone?” my uncle asks.“Looks like Lucchese is snubbing us,” Edoardo replies disdainfully.The man approaches our table with firm, imposing steps, as if nothing around him matters. I don’t know why my heart begins to race.“Good evening,” he greets.His deep voice sinks into me, and a shiver runs down my spine, raising goosebumps on my skin. But it’s not the kind Edoardo gives me—of fear. This is… different.“Fabrizio Ferretti,” my uncle says, standing to shake his hand. “A pleasure to welcome you to my city. But where’s your boss?”“My boss?” he asks with a challenging smile—perfect teeth framed by a shadow of beard that makes my stomach flutter. “You mean our boss.”My uncle adjusts his collar, visibly uncomfortable.“Antonio is busy,” the blond man explains. “As you can imagine, it’s not easy taking the reins of the entire organization.”“Espec
The ceremony drifts through my mind like a storm cloud. I don’t pay attention to anything the priest says—I don’t care, not really. They’re all empty words, meant for couples in love, not for women condemned like me. He shouldn’t be speaking of love and commitment, but of death and disgrace.“Bianca Isabel Bernocchi D’Angelo, do you accept Edoardo Rinaldi Tortolani as your lawful husband?”The priest’s question hits me like a bucket of cold water, jolting me out of my stupor. I don’t even know when they asked him, but I assume they did—and of course he said yes. As for me, my voice won’t come.I look at the priest; his face is blurred. I don’t know if it’s the veil’s tulle or the tears filling my eyes. Edoardo squeezes my hand and throws me a threatening glance, but my lips remain sealed.“Bianca,” Edoardo whispers under his breath, and I can already feel the punishment that will come later.I’m disobeying him. I’m making a fool of him in front of his people, and this will cost me dea
BiancaAri and I fix our makeup as ordered and leave my room. She doesn’t let go of my hand, and I’m grateful for that support until the very last moment. Otherwise, I might collapse.At the bottom of the stairs stands my father, smiling wider than I’ve seen in years. How I wish that smile came from knowing his daughter would be happy, like a normal father. But no—his happiness has nothing to do with mine. It comes from closing a profitable deal, even at my expense.I descend each step slowly, like cattle heading to slaughter. Cecilia, my stepmother, smiles victoriously, finally free of me—the nuisance who never stayed quiet.When I reach the bottom, my father grabs my arm, practically ripping me from Arianna’s grasp.“You look beautiful, daughter. No doubt you inherited your mother’s beauty.”Cecilia scowls at the compliment, and it could almost pass for a tender father-daughter moment—until he adds:“You’ll make your husband very happy. He’s going to enjoy you.”Acid rises in my thr
BiancaWhen I was a little girl, I loved reading fairy tales—stories about princes who arrived to rescue princesses from tall towers where villains kept them captive, orphaned princesses without mothers to protect them, at the mercy of wicked stepmothers and fathers who did not care.It didn’t take me long to understand how similar my own life was to those stories: a mother who died so young I can barely remember her, a stepmother who hates me, and a father who cared about nothing beyond the business deal he could close with me. My family were the villains, without question—and everyone around them, their accomplices.The Sicilian mafia in Bcago. Cosa Nostra.For many years I believed that one day everything would change—that a fairy godmother would cross my path and a brave prince would rescue me. But as the calendar pages kept falling and my body began to change, I realized that would never happen.It took some time, but I finally understood that the world around me is dark, filthy,
Three Weeks LaterArianna pushed the fork back and forth across her plate, dragging pieces of fruit in circles until they lost shape. Breakfast had become just another routine she endured.Life here was nothing like Chicago. At least there, she had a handful of friends from school she could meet at
AriannaMarco pulled his hand back as if my touch burned him and turned to look at Enzo. Both of us had been so caught up in our conversation that neither of us heard the elevator open.“Sir, excuse me, I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” Marco stammered, and I winced. That only made things w
“You have us,” Ilaria says, her voice gentler than her words, “and if you’d try just a little harder, you could have her too.”I blink, certain I misheard. “Arianna?” I ask, incredulous.She nods. “Why not? Whatever the reason, you’re married. You could give it a chance. Try to make things work. Sh
AriannaI looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and, surprisingly, I didn't look so bad today.Sleep must’ve helped. Maybe it was exhaustion catching up with me after the wedding, the disastrous first night, and the long trip. Or perhaps it was from locking myself away the day before, spiraling t







