Chapter 4

The news that Matteo intended to hold a Protection Ceremony for Lydia was delivered by the steward in person.

He kept his head lowered, unable to meet my eyes. "Ma'am, the master has chosen the eighth of next month. The ceremony will be held in the Family chapel. Afterward, Miss Lydia will move into the main residence and sit at the master's right hand at official dinners, receiving the same protection as the lady of the house. The master would like you to attend and accept a toast from her."

I was in the greenhouse, trimming a dead white rose. My hand didn't pause when I heard him.

A soft snap, and the dead stem fell.

"Understood."

The steward blinked, clearly not expecting such calm, and hurried out.

Mara was shaking with fury. "Ma'am, you are his lawful wife! What Family tradition lets a wife's sister enter the household as another lady of the house? He's trying to drive you to your grave."

I set the shears down and brushed the dirt from my gloves. "He isn't trying to drive me to my grave. He simply believes I'll never leave."

Matteo was too confident. He knew I had loved him for seven years and believed that since I had poured everything into putting him in that seat, I would never let go. So he dared to test my boundaries again and again until he had crushed them entirely.

On the eighth, the Moretti estate's long corridor was draped with deep crimson ribbons. A row of black sedans lined up outside the Family chapel. Only territory bosses, senior advisors, and a handful of witnesses to past Family oaths had been invited.

I wore a plain black dress with no adornment and sat on the left side of the banquet hall's long table.

Matteo walked in with Lydia on his arm. A dark red rose was pinned to his chest. Lydia wore an ivory gown, and the Black Rose Ring on her right hand gleamed under the chandeliers.

When Matteo saw my black dress, a flash of displeasure crossed his eyes, probably thinking I was dampening the mood. But he didn't lash out. He only said gently, "Elena, from today, Lydia is one of us. Look after her."

Lydia carried a glass of red wine to where I sat and dipped her head. "Elena, please welcome me into the Family."

Her voice was delicate, but her eyes held undisguised defiance.

I didn't take the wine.

The banquet hall went silent at once. Every pair of eyes fell on me.

Matteo's face hardened. "Elena, take it. Don't make the Family a laughingstock."

I looked up at him. For the first time in three years, I addressed him by his full name in front of everyone. "Matteo Moretti, do you really think I can swallow this glass of wine?"

He froze for a moment, then his brow furrowed. "What are you making a scene about now? I promised you that, legally, you will always be my wife. Lydia only needs the Family's recognition. What more do you want?"

What more did I want?

A searing pain that had been bottled up too long exploded from my chest. The metallic sweetness could no longer be contained. I picked up the glass in front of me but did not touch the one Lydia had offered.

"I don't want any of it anymore."

The instant I said it, a mouthful of black blood surged from my lips and splattered across the hem of Lydia's ivory gown. The wine glass slipped from my hand and shattered.

Matteo's pupils constricted. He shoved Lydia aside and lunged to catch me. "Elena!"

But I had already collapsed into the chair. As my vision plunged into darkness, I saw, on that face that was always composed, a crack of genuine panic.