Chapter 2

In the days after I handed over the cufflink, Camilla and Victoria were completely consumed by euphoria. In their eyes, Victoria's future as the Corleone Donna was already a foregone conclusion.

To make sure Victoria looked absolutely perfect for her meeting with Caine at the Aquila Estate, Camilla raided the house for anything valuable. That afternoon, right after I finished doing the laundry in the back courtyard, I heard crashing and banging from Isabella's old bedroom on the second floor.

My heart sank. I hurried upstairs.

I pushed open the door and found Camilla using a metal tool to force open the hidden compartment of Isabella's favorite antique vanity. She greedily swept the few remaining pieces of jewelry into her pocket, and in her hand she held a natural pearl necklace that had been passed down through the Moretti family.

It was the only thing Isabella had left me.

"Put it down!" I rushed over and snatched the pearl necklace from her hands, staring her down.

Camilla was livid at having the necklace taken from her. She backhanded me across the face without hesitation. "You dare snatch things from me? Have you completely lost your mind, you little bitch? Everything in this house belongs to me! Your mother is dead, so everything she had is mine!"

The slap snapped my head to the side, and blood seeped from the corner of my lip. But I held on to the necklace and refused to let go.

When Camilla saw I wouldn't give in, a calculating look flashed across her face. She suddenly threw herself backward, crashing to the floor with a dramatic thud. She deliberately swept several antique ornaments off the shelves as she fell, sending them shattering across the floor.

"Help! She's killing me!" Camilla lay on the ground, shrieking at the top of her lungs. "Antonio! Help me! Elena's trying to kill me!"

Within ten seconds, Antonio charged into the room with several of his men. He didn't even glance at the scene. He marched straight up to me, raised his hand, and slapped me across the face with every ounce of his strength.

Crack!

The blow was vicious. I was knocked off my feet and sent sprawling onto the broken glass scattered across the floor. My palms and knees were immediately torn open, blood streaming freely.

Antonio towered over me, jabbing his finger in my face, and unleashed a torrent of abuse. "You animal! You're just like your worthless mother, the worst thing that ever happened to this family! I feed you, I clothe you, and now you dare lay a hand on your stepmother? Your mother is dead. You should be grateful I still let you eat!"

I was on my knees, every inch of my body screaming with pain, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

I lifted my head and looked at him. This was my father. A contemptible man who had built his entire career on my mother's family, yet despised her to his core.

Victoria appeared in the doorway, wearing an extravagantly expensive designer gown. She took one look at my battered state and let out a smug little laugh. She walked over and helped Camilla to her feet, then bent down in front of me and ripped the pearl necklace from my hands by force.

"This necklace goes perfectly with my dress." Victoria clasped the necklace around her own neck right in front of me, then leaned close to my ear and whispered, her voice dripping with venom, "Once I take the keepsake to meet the Don tomorrow, I'll be the future Donna of Cosa Nostra. And you? You'll be my maid. I'll have you on your knees in front of me for the rest of your life, licking my shoes every single day."

Antonio put his arm around Camilla's shoulders and gave his men a cold order. "Lock her in the servant's room. Nobody feeds her without my permission!"

That night, I lay curled up on the hard plank bed in the basement servant's room. The room was dark and damp. My wounds hadn't been treated and were still seeping blood. There wasn't a single part of my body that didn't hurt.

I stared at the moonlight filtering through the narrow window and thought of that cellar ten years ago.

Back then, Caine had been kidnapped by a rival family and locked in a dark, airless cellar. His severe claustrophobia had him on the edge of madness, suffocating under the weight of raw terror. I was the one who snuck over, sang a Sicilian lullaby to him through the ventilation shaft, then smashed the lock open and pulled him back from the brink of death.

When he placed that cufflink in my hand, his fingers wouldn't stop shaking. But the way he looked at me, it was as if I were the only light in his entire world.

I forced myself to sit up and pulled an unmarked old phone from an inner pocket. In my last life, Victoria had once flaunted her special access by calling Caine's private line right in front of me, just to rub it in. That number was branded into my memory.

I dialed.

The phone rang for a long time. Just when I thought no one would answer, the line connected.

Not a single sound came from the other end, only cold, tightly controlled breathing. Even over the phone, I could feel the suffocating pressure that radiated from the Don.

I gripped the phone tightly. My voice was barely above a whisper, shaking with hurt I couldn't contain. "Do you... still remember that lullaby from ten years ago?"

Dead silence on the other end.

Just when I thought he was about to hang up, there was a loud crash, like something heavy being knocked over. Then came a voice, hoarse to the point of breaking, as though a flood of barely contained emotion was tearing free all at once.

"It's you."

Those two words shattered every wall I had built. All the hurt and injustice I had endured for years came flooding out in an instant. Tears fell in heavy drops onto the back of my hand. I stopped pretending to be strong. I didn't want to hide my pain anymore.

"Caine, I hurt so much. They hit me and took the cufflink you gave me." I cried as I told him everything. "Tomorrow, Victoria is going to bring your cufflink and come see you. She's going to pretend to be me."

"I understand."

He didn't waste a single word. He didn't ask who I was. He didn't ask where I was. He didn't ask what price I was willing to pay.

His voice was terrifyingly low, yet carried an absolute certainty that put every fear to rest.

"I know everything now. Leave it to me."