Chapter 3

Datura was deadly poison, but Rosa loved it, so Vincent let it bloom into a whole damn sea across the Rossi estate grounds.

Once, I'd begged him to tear it out, scared some maid or kid would take a bite by accident.

Rosa had cried until she passed out over it.

"Viola hates me this much, Vincent? She won't even let you grow me flowers?"

He'd sneered at me.

"Everyone knows it's poison. Who the hell's gonna eat it? Stop being this dramatic!"

I never thought it'd be the key to my way out.

The second the petal hit my tongue, my body screamed to gag it up.

I forced it down.

This time, I was finally going home.

Vincent dropped the gift box and lunged, slamming his palm against my back, rough fingers prying my mouth open to dig it out.

"Spit it out!" he roared, face purple with rage and panic.

"Are you really that fucking suicidal?!"

He and Draven both grabbed at my throat, screaming at me to cough it up.

"So Marco dumped you, and this is how you react?!"

Vincent's eyes were red, voice cracking.

"Rosa and Marco were made for each other! You still had some sad little fantasy?!"

He screamed for the maids to bring ipecac, shoving the plant down my throat until I threw up until there was nothing left.

A ragged, bitter laugh tore out of me, breath thin as paper.

"You never even checked. You just decided I hurt Rosa, and threw your own sister out like trash."

Vincent's face went white, mouth hanging open with nothing to say.

Then Draven's phone buzzed.

His face drained of color in an instant.

"Vincent! Don Marco's orders: bring Viola back to the estate right now. Rosa… she's gone again."

They locked eyes, then both turned to glare at me, rage burning hot.

"That's why you put on this little suicide show, huh?"

Vincent snarled, yanking me up by my arms.

"To cover your tracks. Where'd you hide her? What the hell are you planning next?!"

I had no clue where she was.

But this was perfect.

They'd kill me for her.

They dragged me back to the Costa estate, threw me to my knees in the main hall.

Marco sat on the Don's throne, staring down at me like I was a bug.

Beside him stood Luca Marcelli, my childhood betrothed, the man who'd torn up our engagement papers in front of every crew in the city for Rosa.

I'd been the laughingstock of the Five Families ever since.

Marco didn't waste words.

He leaned forward, fingers locking around my jaw, forcing my head up.

"Where is Rosa?"

I stared at the man who'd once been my husband, acid regret burning in my gut.

Marco Costa had not been born untouchable.

Four years ago, the Costa elders wanted him cut out of succession.

Too reckless, too young, too easy to provoke. His own father had been ready to name another heir.

I was the one who saved his crown.

I sat through three nights of negotiations with men who smiled at me like I was a pretty little fool, traded favors sharp enough to draw blood, and dug up enough secrets to make every elder in that room lower his eyes.

By dawn, Marco had the votes.

By noon, the family called him heir apparent.

And me?

They called me ambitious.

Vicious.

Dirty.

Marco asked me to marry him that same night. He promised me the title of Donna, the respect of the family, and a place beside him no one could touch.

Then Rosa showed up.

After her first disappearance, he'd put me through family punishment.

The whip had torn into my stomach, blood soaking the Persian rug.

That's when I'd found out I was pregnant.

The baby had come and gone before I even knew it was there.

I said nothing.

A flicker of cold murder crossed Marco's eyes.

"Looks like you need to be taught a lesson before you talk."

He nodded for his men to bring in the whips, told Draven and Vincent to do it themselves.

I didn't want to die tortured.

I fought, but the first whip crack hit my back, white-hot agony exploding through every nerve.

My lips trembled.

"Just kill me," I rasped.

Marco watched, a cold smirk on his face.

"Still got that mouth on you. Where is she?"

I lifted my head, face pale, and bared my teeth in a hideous grin.

"Rosa? I killed her. You all love her so bad, don't you? Go on. Kill me. Avenge her."

Marco's eyes went bloodshot.

Marco snatched the silver letter opener from the table and pressed its point beneath my chin.

He only wanted to break me, to scream Rosa's location out of my throat.

But I didn't flinch.

I locked my hand around his wrist, Then I drove myself forward.

The point slid deep beneath my collarbone, and warm blood gushed from the wound.

My vision bled black at the edges.

Right as the blade sank deep, Rosa's voice drifted in from the hall doors, sweet and innocent.

"Everyone's here? Perfect, I baked a cake… oh my goodness, why is there so much blood?"