Chapter 2

Victoria was the woman from Dante's first 'Month of No Masters.' It had only lasted twenty-seven days.

She was a civilian who had stumbled into our twisted game, and the truth had left her bitter.

Dante brought her into the fold as compensation.

After years in this life, the once-inconspicuous civilian girl had been forged into an elegant and striking woman.

I raised the glass of whiskey in front of me and toasted her. "I didn't bet on anything."

A capo, slurring "long live freedom," passed by with a wink. "Our future Donna must be praying that Boss doesn't get snatched up by some little vixen out there, so he'll come crawling back to you."

"Right, Aurora?"

Victoria shooed him away, then turned back to advise me, "He's playing, so you should play too. Why tie yourself down to one man?"

"You should go find some fun of your own. There are plenty of men in New York."

I swirled the ice in my glass and leaned closer to her ear. "If you want to win big, bet with me. You won't regret it."

Victoria's head snapped around, her eyes flashing with astonishment.

But before she could ask, a chorus of screams and whistles erupted from the center of the dance floor, drowning out our conversation.

"Whoa!"

The spotlight focused on one spot, where Dante was dancing a tango, his arm wrapped around a girl with a slim, pale waist.

I could feel the raw chemistry crackling between them.

"It's only been five minutes and Dante's already picked someone. Looks a little risky for you again, Aurora. Maybe I should change my bet? Is it too late?"

"Wait, her face looks familiar."

As someone said it, I realized it too. That face was indeed familiar.

Scarlett. She was last year's thirty-days lover.

Scarlett was a wildfire, the complete opposite of me.

She wore an extremely short leather skirt, wild, unrestrained, and full of a primal energy.

It was a feeling I could never give him.

For me, a month was just thirty ordinary nights. Dante would accompany me to art exhibitions and wine tastings, over and over.

But for her, it was a kaleidoscope of color.

She took Dante diving and skydiving, doing every adrenaline-pumping, dangerous thing imaginable. For their grand finale, she coaxed Dante into doing something insane.

She ran an underground racing club and provoked Dante into crossing the line into Brooklyn, the territory of a rival family, to compete in an illegal midnight street race.

When I heard the news, I was sick with worry, unable to sleep. But Dante rejected all my calls.

I dropped my work and chased after them, using family resources to forcibly block both ends of the overpass.

In the cold night wind, I forced the roaring Aston Martin to a stop.

"You have no experience. You can't participate in a street race."

Dante toyed with the car keys, unconcerned. "You're crossing a line, Aurora. This is my free time. Besides, Scarlett will protect me."

Scarlett, sitting in the passenger seat chewing gum, shot me a provocative look. "Well, if it isn't Dante's killjoy of a babysitter."

The words froze in my throat, each one a painful shard of ice.

I felt like I'd lost the ability to speak, just staring straight at Dante.

He avoided my gaze.

I silently stepped aside to let them pass. Scarlett's triumphant laughter pierced the engine's roar, striking my ears.

As I drove away, I thought, it's finally over. I'm finally free.

But ten minutes later, Dante caught up to me.

"Aurora, I'll do whatever you say. I won't race."

Later that night, Scarlett went to the race alone and got into an accident.

The moment Dante got the news, his expression changed. He shot me a glare, then spun around and rushed to the hospital.

Dante himself wheeled Scarlett's stretcher.

She'd broken her leg; her calf was twisted at a gruesome angle.

She grabbed my hand, her voice a pitiful whimper. "Aurora, I don't blame you, but you two are broken up now. I'm begging you, please stop clinging to him."

Scornful, disdainful, and contemptuous glares fell on me. I was so ashamed I wanted to disappear.

After nine years of dating, I had become the other woman.

After she was hospitalized, Dante cleared out the family's top private medical center for her, neglecting family business and his own health to stay by her bedside day and night.

For three whole months, Dante completely shattered the rules of the Month of No Masters. He never once came back.

During that time, the stress from the family alliance and his betrayal triggered a severe stomach hemorrhage.

I lay in the intensive care unit, surrounded by the cold beeping of machines. He never even called.

"Since when did she learn to fake an illness? Besides, she has all of you to take care of her. Scarlett only has me."

The entire New York underworld was gossiping that the Corinni family's future Donna was about to be replaced.

I believed it myself.

But just as everyone was preparing to laugh at my expense, he pushed open the door to my apartment again.

Apparently, he and Scarlett had a sudden, sharp breakup. He had insisted on coming back to me, even when Scarlett threatened her own life.

Late that night, he held me in his arms, his breath a hot whisper against my ear. "Aurora, that was just me repaying a debt to her."

"You are the only Donna of the Corinni family. That will never change."

I saw the faint red mark on his collarbone, and the acid in my stomach churned again.

The moonlight outside was like liquid silver. I said faintly,

"In that case, let's get married immediately."

The tender look on Dante's face froze. He let go of me, turned silently, and walked to the bar to pour himself a whiskey.

The sharp clink of ice against the glass was deafening.