Chapter 3

The next day, a nauseating air of celebration hung over the Santini estate. Meanwhile, in the abandoned greenhouse behind the gardens, I held that old phone and listened to a low voice deliver a report from the other end.

The caller was Luigi, the Corleone family's underboss and Caine's most trusted right hand.

"Miss Santini, everything is proceeding exactly as you anticipated." Luigi's voice was filled with absolute deference.

He gave me a detailed account of everything that had happened at the Aquila Estate just hours earlier.

Victoria had walked into Caine's study wearing that stolen couture red gown, Isabella's natural pearl necklace around her neck, and the sapphire cufflink clutched tightly in her hand.

She stood before the man whose name alone made every criminal empire in Europe tremble, and recited the script Camilla had written for her, word for word.

"Caine, do you remember me? I'm the girl who saved you in that cellar in Sicily ten years ago. I've kept this cufflink all this time. I never forgot a single detail of that day. I know you're afraid of the dark, so I stayed by your side the whole time..." Victoria twisted and posed, trying desperately to look alluring.

Caine said nothing from beginning to end. He didn't confront her. He simply sat with his fingers steepled, looking down at her.

Only after Victoria had exhausted every rehearsed line and cold sweat was beading on her forehead did Caine finally speak.

His voice was low and rough. "What song did you sing to me?"

Victoria went rigid. The smile froze on her face. Camilla had prepared her for everything except this question.

After more than ten seconds of silence, the air in the study had turned to ice. Victoria swallowed hard and stammered out the name of the most well-known folk song in all of Italy. "'Santa Lucia'... I sang 'Santa Lucia.'"

A smile curved across Caine's lips, cold as a blade. He didn't expose her lie. Instead, his gaze drifted down to the pearl necklace around Victoria's neck.

He knew it was mine.

"That's a beautiful necklace." Caine's tone carried a chilling edge of amusement. "Is it yours?"

Victoria, thinking the Don was complimenting her, puffed out her chest eagerly. "Yes, Caine. It's my most precious piece of jewelry. I wore it especially for you."

"Is that so?" Caine gave a cold laugh, his voice dripping with contempt. "Funny. Those pearls reek of stolen goods. Wearing them, you look like a pathetic little thief playing dress-up in the lady of the house's clothes."

Victoria flinched, her face cycling between pale and flushed. But her dim little mind couldn't grasp that Caine was humiliating her on my behalf. She actually convinced herself this was just the Don's brand of rough charm, that Caine liked women who were wild and sinful.

"If that's what you like, I can be very bad for you." Victoria forced a smile and even threw him a coy look.

The disgust in Caine's eyes hardened into something almost tangible. He picked up the glass of red wine from his desk and deliberately tipped his wrist, sending the crimson liquid splashing across his expensive handmade leather shoes and the Persian rug beneath them.

"Ten years ago in that cellar, you crawled through the dirt to save me, covered head to toe in mud." Caine looked down at her the way one would look at a dog. "Let's see if you still have that kind of loyalty. Use that expensive dress of yours and clean my shoes."

Victoria was stunned. She was a Santini heiress. She was the one who ground me beneath her heel. When had she ever suffered humiliation like this?

But under the lethal weight of Caine's gaze, she didn't dare resist. She didn't even dare think of resisting. Instead, she frantically convinced herself: This is Caine's way of showing me he cares!

Victoria gritted her teeth and dropped to her knees at Caine's feet. Using the sleeve of that priceless couture red gown, she wiped the wine from his shoes, one careful stroke at a time. The wine stained her hands and ruined her dress. She looked like a complete clown, groveling on the floor.

Caine watched her with cold detachment as she begged at his feet like a trained animal. He knew exactly how many times this woman had humiliated me. He knew exactly how many times I had been forced to kneel. And right now, he was paying back every last ounce of that degradation, tenfold and a hundredfold, in the most direct way possible.

"Just as I thought. You were born to kneel." Caine's voice was ice.

Victoria finished wiping his shoes and looked up at him, her face a mask of eager submission. "Caine, did I pass your test?"

Caine regarded her pathetic expression, and the thought of killing her felt like it would only dirty his hands. He rose and gave his order to Luigi.

"Prepare the wedding. I want to marry my 'savior' within a month."

When Victoria heard those words, her knees buckled and she nearly fainted from sheer excitement. She thought she had won. She thought her humiliation had earned her the Don's favor. She had no idea that what Caine had promised her wasn't a marriage. It was the most spectacular death sentence.