Chapter 2

"Aria, do you know what a Donna is?"

Seraphina tossed the tablet in front of me.

On the screen was a photo of Cassandra playing Chopin at a family charity gala. White dress, black piano. The old lady sat in the front row, smiling so wide her wrinkles bloomed like a flower.

"The de Santis family has only cared about one thing for three hundred years: Tradition." Her nails tapped the desk. "Whoever wins the old lady's heart becomes the next Donna, the supreme matriarch."

"You're pregnant," I said.

"The kid will be born a de Santis. Will it take my last name?" She sneered. "Last week, the old lady said in front of seven elders—'If Seraphina doesn't shape up, send her back to where she came from.'"

I gasped.

"Cassandra is a Viti daughter. Learned piano at six, entered the conservatory at twelve, speaks Italian better than the Pope." Seraphina turned pale. "And me? I cross myself wrong at Holy Name mass."

She grabbed my hands. Her eyes were genuinely red.

"She's playing the piano at next week's dinner. Aria, listen to me about that fifty grand. Twenty grand to bribe a servant to spill a whole glass of red wine on her. Twenty grand to bribe a cleaner to oil the stairs she walks up. Do whatever with the remaining ten. I want her to break her precious neck in front of the whole family."

She looked at me, her eyes full of trust.

"I only trust you with this."

I stayed silent for three seconds.

"Relax," I said. "Leave it to me."

That night, I deposited $49,990 into my secret stash.

It wasn't that I didn't want to do it.

I just did the math.

Bribe a servant? They might snitch.

Oil the stairs? Might not be fatal, and leaves evidence.

The worst part?

It's expensive.

The stage to get wine spilled on was given by the old lady.

The stairs to slip on were given by the old lady.

If the old lady didn't show up, Cassandra was nothing.

I went to the pharmacy and bought a bottle of Ipecac syrup.

Ten bucks.

On the night of the dinner, the estate was brightly lit.

Cassandra arrived first.

A burgundy gown. The emerald necklace on her neck was heavy enough to choke a man.

She walked past me with champagne, stopped, and looked me up and down.

"Miss Wax Figure." She smirked. "Tonight, I've prepared the Revolutionary Etude. The old lady's favorite. After this piece, your pregnant little friend can pack her bags."

"Break a leg," I smiled with genuine sincerity.

Seraphina sat in the corner, palms sweating.

"Where's the servant?" She whispered. "Where's the wine?"

"Chill."

Eight o'clock. The old lady's seat was empty.

Eight-thirty. Still empty.

Cassandra's fingers kept tapping her knees, neck stretched long, eyes glued to the staircase.

Nine o'clock. The butler announced dinner.

The old lady still hadn't shown.

Cassandra shot up from her seat. "Where's Nonna? She promised to hear me play!"

Nobody answered her.

Seraphina pinched my thigh under the table. "What's going on? Where are your people? Where's the oil?"

I gave a sheepish smile.

"I thought bribing servants was a waste of money." I whispered. "Ten-dollar Ipecac syrup. Solved it at the root."

Seraphina's face cracked.

"You put what into whose cup?!"

"The old lady's afternoon tea."

"Aria, are you fucking in—"

A scream came from upstairs.

A maid stumbled down the stairs. "Something's wrong with the old lady! In the third-floor bathroom! She threw up and passed out!"

The whole table sprang up.

Cassandra was the first to rush up, hiking her dress to her knees, heels clicking faster than anyone else's.

"Nonna! I'm coming! Hang in there, Nonna—"

She pushed the bathroom door open.

Then she bounced back three steps and hit the wall.

A sour, rotten stench—like a Chicago dumpster in July—hit us like a brick wall.

The old lady was slumped by the sink, ashen-faced. Her expensive silk nightgown, the marble floor, the walls... it was a total disaster zone, covered in nauseating vomit.

Cassandra covered her mouth, dry-heaving twice till tears came out.

"God... oh my God..." She backed away, waving her hands. "Get... get a doctor! Get the nanny! Somebody come quickly! How can I be expected to—"

Before she could finish her "expected to do this as a guest" sentence.

The old lady's cloudy eyes looked up and saw the absolute disgust on her face.

Dead silence.

I grabbed Seraphina's arm and shoved her toward the door.

"Here's your chance! Go!"