Chapter 3

I set the phone aside, curled under the covers, and cried for so long that I never noticed falling asleep.

The harsh smell of liquor on Matteo woke me.

He sat on the edge of the bed, three shirt buttons undone, staring at me through bleary eyes. "Aurora, why did you never tell me your father is one of the heads of the Five Families?"

One of the heads of the Five Families?

No! He wasn't! My grandfather was.

He had betrayed my mother and grandfather. He had used every filthy trick imaginable to build his glory on their bones.

Why would I ever have told the man I loved about someone like that?

I did not answer.

His stare was accusing. "You did it on purpose. You wanted me to struggle.

"If you'd introduced me to your father earlier, or apologized to him and gone back to the family, we might not have needed ten years to get this far."

He was blaming me.

For denying him a shortcut.

He had forgotten how I had knelt before the man I hated most in this world, for his sake.

I left the bedroom and shut Matteo inside. For the first time in ten years, we stopped speaking.

While Matteo stayed away, I started sorting through my things.

I did not want to take much. Matteo and I had struggled in the early years. Once our lives improved, he had kept buying me jewelry, clothes, and handbags, as though trying to make up for all that hardship.

The gifts had once thrilled me, proof that Matteo loved me. Now they felt like a cruel joke.

In the end I chose two handguns and a case of ammunition.

When I had finished packing, Matteo called. "There's a dinner I need you at. I'm sending a car in half an hour."

My hand went still around the phone. "You know I hate those things—"

He cut me off. "This one is different."

Half an hour later, I stood outside a private dining room.

A server opened the door, revealing Matteo, my father, Isabella, her mother, and Matteo's mother.

The smiles vanished from their faces the second they saw me.

Matteo's mother spoke first, displeasure plain in her voice. "Aurora, you're half an hour late. That's rude."

I looked at Matteo. He had set me up to make Isabella look good!

When I did not apologize, my father slammed his glass onto the table. "When someone speaks to you, you answer. Is this how I raised you?"

My lip curled as I started to speak, but Isabella stood and came to my side. "Don't blame Aurora. She was only—"

A gunshot cut her off. The lights died, swallowing everyone in darkness.

My hand closed around the pistol at my waist. Then pain stabbed into the back of my neck, and everything went black.