Chapter 4

I gripped the vanity and slowly pulled myself up.

"You can't bear to let your golden girl look bad." I pointed at Sofia, tears spilling from my eyes. "So I'm the crazy one. Isabella... do I mean nothing to you?"

Isabella pointed a finger right in my face. "Shut your mouth."

"You know I'm not sick." I didn't back down. "You know exactly what Sofia and Julian did on that boat. You're just scared the Marchettis will pull out. Scared of losing your East Coast ports. So I'm the scapegoat."

The air froze.

Julian stepped forward, his voice low. "Aurora, stop talking."

I swatted his hand away and looked at my father, who was still sitting on the sofa.

"You were there too." I looked Marco dead in the eye. "You saw everything last night."

Marco snapped his cigar box shut. Click. It was deafening in the quiet room.

"Your mother already gave Mrs. Marchetti her word." Marco twisted the signet ring on his thumb, deliberately looking away. "Changing the story now makes the Vitali family a joke to the whole alliance."

There it was. The truth.

My life. My sanity. To them, it was just the cost of keeping a lie alive.

Isabella's chest heaved. She turned to Nico. "Get the family chips."

Sofia gave her sleeve a fake little tug. "Mommy, no, don't do this to Rory..."

Isabella shook Sofia off. She marched to the desk, grabbed the wooden box herself, and slammed it onto the coffee table in front of me.

The lid popped open. A pile of chips.

"I'll ask you one last time." Isabella bored holes into me with her eyes. "Smearing your sister. Disrespecting your parents. Trying to escape the estate. Do you confess?"

I stared at the black wooden pieces.

"I only tell the truth. I am not guilty."

Isabella's mask cracked. Pure rage took over.

She spun around, snatched an unopened bottle of whiskey from the bar cart, and hurled it at the wall next to me.

"Shut up!" she shrieked.

I flinched, trying to dodge it. Nico lunged from behind. He instinctively reached to pull me away.

But his hands caught my shoulders—and he yanked me right into the path of the flying bottle.

Thud.

A sickening crack.

The heavy glass bottom smashed directly into my temple.

Agony split my skull. My knees gave out. I hit the floor.

Sofia screamed and scrambled backward.

The bottle hit the ground. Glass shattered. Amber whiskey flooded the rug, mixing with the blood pouring from my head.

Isabella's hand froze in mid-air.

The color completely drained from her face. "Rory..." A suffocated gasp escaped her lips, carrying real, paralyzing terror. She took a frantic, stumbling step toward me, her hands shaking violently—a mother desperately wanting to gather her bleeding child into her arms.

I pressed my hands against the wet rug, trying to get up. My arms wouldn't work.

Julian crouched down. He looked at the gash on my head and frowned. "It's deep. Call the family doctor."

Sofia let out another sharp cry. She ran over and yanked on Julian's arm. "Mommy... Julian, come here. I'm scared..."

The sound of Sofia's trembling voice acted like a master switch. Isabella stopped dead in her tracks.

She looked at Sofia's tearful face, and the agonizing love and panic for me were forcibly buried away.

Isabella took a deep breath.

She looked away from my bleeding head.

"Call the family doctor," Isabella commanded coldly. "But she will not be rewarded with the comfort of her bedroom. She needs to learn the price of her stubbornness."

Julian stood up. He held Sofia's hand and never looked back at me again.

Nico walked over and grabbed my arm, hauling me off the ground. He was rough.

Like he was trying to hide the fleeting panic in his eyes.

"It's just a scratch," Nico sneered. "You just needed to learn your place."

Isabella walked to the door and pulled it open.

"Take her to the underground storage room," she gave her final order. "Nobody lets her out without my permission."

Nico dragged my limp body down the dark, damp stairs and threw me onto the cold concrete floor.

The door slammed shut. Click. The deadbolt locked.

My vision blurred out.

Blood continued to pool beneath my head, thick and warm, draining the last bit of life from my veins.

The freezing air of the storage room pierced my bones, but it was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.

My breathing grew impossibly shallow.

I couldn't feel my fingers anymore.

I was dying, discarded in the dark like trash.

Through the fading consciousness, I smiled weakly into the empty abyss.

"It is wonderful, Mother. I never have to beg for your favor again. I never have to hold my single crest chip and fight against everyone ever again."