Chapter 2

Once the tactical orders were sent, Lorenzo assigned Emily and me our weapons and supplies.

Emily finished checking her list and nestled against Lorenzo's shoulder.

"I knew you loved me best, Lorenzo. You even saved the newest portable gas grenades for me."

Out of habit, she turned and asked me, "Selena, how much firepower did Lorenzo give you?"

I opened my encrypted terminal and answered flatly, "Two crates of old grenades."

Emily's pretty face broke into a smile.

She still put on a show of concern.

"Lorenzo must have been worried you'd misuse the heavy weapons and draw the enemy in, so he gave me the armored car.

"Selena, if you ever run into trouble you can't handle, just call for backup on my channel."

Lorenzo pinched her cheek fondly.

"That car's your reward for passing the evaluation. It has top-level armor, so you can drive it without a worry!"

Then he turned and glanced my way.

"As for you, your reflexes are worse than Emily's in every way. Once you're on the front line, watch yourself. Don't make me come save you!"

When Emily heard that, she immediately tugged at Lorenzo's arm, whining sweetly.

"It'll be impressive enough if Selena can hold off the Russians' first wave. Stop knocking her confidence!"

I should have hated Emily with everything I had.

She shone so brightly that everyone in the mafia took her side, no matter what.

But Emily wasn't just someone who'd fight me over the scraps Lorenzo gave me.

She'd also step in to defend me, all fake sympathy, whenever my mother scolded me, just like she was doing now.

She wasn't exactly kind, but she wasn't completely cruel, either.

Lorenzo smiled and took two velvet gift boxes out of the safe.

The one set with rubies was for Emily. The plain black one was for me.

Inside each was an access tag.

Before I could even reach out, Emily excitedly threw her arms around Lorenzo.

"Oh my God, Lorenzo, I knew you understood me best. You actually got me the highest-level access chip."

Lorenzo watched her fondly.

"This chip sells for two million dollars on the black market," Emily said. "Didn't it cost you half a month's casino profits?"

"No matter how expensive it is, I'd get it for you. You're my precious little sister, aren't you?"

But I'm your sister too.

Then why is the access tag you got me just a basic metal one?

I'd asked myself those questions too many times, on countless nights spent on the edge of death.

So many times that I no longer even wanted an answer.

I stuffed the cheap metal tag into my pocket.

Then I turned and walked straight out of the armory.

In that huge room, nobody cared whether I stayed or went.

Only Emily pretended to care. "Selena, why are you leaving all of a sudden?"

I paused and coldly told her I was going back to check my guns.

Soon, I heard my mother complaining behind me. "She's always such a buzzkill, walking around with that sour look, as if we owe her something.

"Emily, don't bother with her. Try this bulletproof vest on for size first."

I pulled the heavy iron door closed behind me, sealing their grating laughter inside.

The next time I showed my face was at the family dinner.

My mother had the kitchen prepare an Italian feast.

Truffle pasta, beef braised in red wine, Neapolitan pizza...

Every dish had the sweet, mild flavors Emily liked.

But I was used to spicy Mexican food.

I'd tried to please these people for five years. I was done forcing myself to eat what they liked.

"Have the chef grill me a chicken cutlet, extra spicy," I told the butler.

My mother froze with her knife and fork in hand, then frowned.

"It's one thing to run wild outside, but do you have to be so picky at a family dinner too?

"Why can't you be more like Emily? She never makes unreasonable demands at a time like this."

In that moment, I wanted to yank the tablecloth off and tell her the truth.

Emily doesn't make demands because you only ever cook what she likes.

And my own mother had never once bothered to learn what I liked to eat.

Maybe she'd seen my preferences in some intel report, but she favored Emily so much that my tastes meant nothing to her.

But I swallowed the words and kept my face blank.

What's the point of arguing?

She'd only think I was being unreasonable, that I was always making a fuss over things that didn't matter.