Chapter 3

That night, Chicago saw its first heavy snow since winter began.

A coughing fit seized me again. My throat felt scored by a blade, and every breath tasted of blood. Mara went to the supply office for heating fuel but came back empty-handed. "Ma'am, the steward says all the backup fuel has been sent to the East Wing. Miss Lydia is sensitive to cold. It was on the master's direct orders."

I leaned against the headboard and pulled the old cashmere blanket tighter. "It's fine. Have a plain car ready tomorrow morning. I need to go to the South Side."

Early the next day, I put on a mask and slipped out through the estate's side gate. The roads were still covered in snow, and the car crawled along.

I went to an unmarked private clinic on the South Side. The attending physician was Gabriel Ferraro. He came from a family of doctors who had worked with the Moretti Family for generations, yet he refused to cover up the carnage left by any boss. He simply kept the clinic running and treated the people in the neighborhood.

Three years ago, I had charged into a warehouse laced with a toxic agent and dragged an unconscious Matteo out. Gabriel was the one who pulled us both back from the brink of death.

After the examination, Gabriel's frown deepened with every result. "The toxin has damaged the blood vessels in your heart. You inhaled a heavier dose than Matteo, and you gave him the first batch of stabilizer. Your body has been deteriorating for years. Without the repair injections, you have three months at most."

Three months.

I looked at the faint blue-black tint surfacing on my fingertips and laughed. "That's enough."

Gabriel was silent for a moment. "Matteo doesn't know?"

"He doesn't need to. Just give me some painkillers. I only have to make it through these three months."

He didn't try to dissuade me. He only placed a small packet of sugar on top of the medicine bag. "The pills are bitter. Don't take them on an empty stomach."

"Thank you." I picked up the medicine and left the clinic.

By the time I returned to the estate, it was already dark. The North Wing was dead silent, with only my bedroom light on.

Matteo was sitting by the window, turning an empty glass in his hand. When he saw me come in, he looked up. "Where were you?"

His gaze settled on my mask, scrutinizing.

"I picked up a few things." I handed the medicine bag to Mara and sat down on the opposite side.

Matteo set the glass down. His tone softened a fraction. "Still sulking about the accounts? Lydia mishandled three payments today. She nearly wired the legitimate contribution meant for a city council member into a shell company under investigation. Go clean up her mess tomorrow."

His tone was still that of a command, as though surrendering the accounts had been nothing more than a tantrum. All he had to do was offer an olive branch, and I should be grateful to take it.

"I won't."

Matteo frowned. "How long are you going to keep this up? I gave her the Black Rose Ring. What more do you want? Everyone is watching the Moretti Family. If Lydia is treated like an illegitimate daughter anyone can push around, it's my face that's lost. You have a marriage certificate and your own ports. Your standing doesn't need a ring to prove it. Why fight over something so superficial?"

I listened to these noble-sounding justifications and felt my stomach churn. My standing didn't need proof, so I should let him drain my money to sustain an entire Family, hand my life-saving medicine to someone else, and let him grind my dignity into the dirt.

I looked up at him. "You're right. I won't fight."

He seemed pleased and reached to touch my face. "That's more like it. Once things calm down, I'll take you to the lake house for a few days."

I tilted my head away. His hand froze in the air. His expression darkened at once.

"If there's nothing else, please leave. I'm tired."

Matteo stared at me coldly for a long time before saying, "You don't know what's good for you," and slamming the door behind him.

I sat in the dim light, slowly pulling off the mask. In the mirror, the faint scar on my left cheek was already darkening. The toxin was spreading.