Vittorio’s POV“You gave her the bracelet, yes?” Aunt Malva’s voice cut through the smoke in my study like a curse.I didn’t answer right away. I was standing by the liquor cabinet, one hand gripping the neck of a crystal glass, the other resting on the edge of the bar.“I said, did you give it to her?” she snapped, standing in the doorway of his office, arms folded under her shawl, the beads around her wrist clinking softly as she moved. Her eyes were sharp. Ancient. Disappointed.I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No.”“No?” Her brows shot up like knives. “You fool.”“I forgot.”Malva stepped forward. “She needs it now, Vittorio. Now more than ever. Don’t make the same mistake that led to Fiorella’s death.”Her name hit me like a slap. Fiorella.I stood, slammed my glass down. “Don’t”“Don’t what?” she snapped. “You didn’t listen then. And you buried her in silk. You wanna do the same with Katarina?”“I said stop.” My jaw clenched.But she wasn’t wrong. I stared at her for a moment.
Katarina's POV “Hey, wake up. They’re calling you.”A hard nudge to my ribs made me jolt. I blinked up. Maribel was crouched beside me, whispering in a rush. Her hair was messy, dark circles under her eyes.“Where the hell were you?” I croaked, my voice hoarse.“I—I snuck out. Brando called me for a private dance late last night. I didn’t think they'd lock your door. I swear.”I stared at her. “You could’ve said something.”“I didn’t know the fire would happen,” she whispered, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry. I really am.”I wanted to scream, to push her, to ask why she left. But I didn’t. I was too tired. And we were already surrounded by sharp eyes and dull blades.“Get moving!” Sybil barked across the room. “Princess got chores today.”The other girls laughed. Blankets rustled. One girl muttered, “That’s the Don’s favorite? Doesn’t look like much now.”I crawled off the mattress. My knees cracked. My body still ached from smoke and shame. I was no longer in a private ro
Giordano’s POV At the torture room“Boss… he’s dead.”“Dead?” Giordano didn’t even blink. He stared at the blood-soaked floor of the torture room, the boy’s limp body still shackled, mouth frozen mid-scream. Giordano’s voice cracked through the smoke-filled room like a whip. “Useless” Dante didn’t flinch. “Yeah. The boy croaked. He stopped breathing sometime last night. Probably from the shock. Weak fucker.” Giordano leaned back in his leather chair, flicked ash from his cigar. “Toss him in the ocean. No point wasting ground space on a liar.” “Yes, boss.” “Make sure he sinks. Tie something heavy to his ankles. I don’t want that skinny bastard floating back to haunt me.”Dante dragged the corpse out with a grunt.The room was silent again. The metallic smell of blood still hung thick in the air. Giordano cracked his neck and stepped into the main corridor of his underground estate, cold marble, low lights, silence that screamed.Giordano rubbed his temples. The headache behind hi
Katarina's POV"Maribel?" I whispered.My voice echoed quietly in the dim room. My body still ached, warm from the way she'd touched me just hours ago. The mattress beside me was cold.She was gone.I sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The room was silent, still, strange. Why would she leave without saying anything? Why sneak off in the middle of the night?I lay back down, my heart heavy, trying not to overthink it. Maybe she got caught. Maybe she just didn’t want to risk getting attached. Maybe… maybe I was alone again.I whispered her name again, softer. Nothing. I glanced toward the door, closed, locked. Same as before. Maybe she had to work early, and she wasn’t allowed to stay.I lay back down, my chest tight and Eyes wide open.Then I smelled it.Smoke.At first, I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe my brain was frying from all this shit. But then it got stronger. Acrid. Sharp and Burning.I sat up straight.Then I saw it.Smoke creeping from the corner, thick and
Katarina’s POV“Hey! HEY!” I banged my fist against the door. “You fuckers hear me?! I said I want out!”Silence. “GUARDS!” I screamed till my throat burned. Nothing.The guards outside didn’t answer. They never did. Not unless it was to drag me somewhere or shove a tray through the slit in the door. I kicked it once. Weakly. My leg barely lifted. I was so goddamn tired.I sank back onto the mattress, this thin, scratchy excuse of a bed. My body ached in places I couldn’t even name. My head was heavy. My throat was dry. My eyes burned.There was just a heaviness in my chest I couldn’t shake.I missed Mateo. I missed Selena. I missed... being human.“ Where are you, Mateo? Where are you, Selena? “I stared at the ceiling. Nothing but silence and shadows. I hated it here.Time didn’t move in this place. The air tasted like dust and perfume. The walls sweated old memories. I curled up and let the quiet break me slowly.But then I heard it.A scuffle. Muffled voices. Someone whisp
Vittorio’s POV“Tell him I’m busy!” Vittorio snapped, throwing the velvet folder across the desk. It slid and hit the bookshelf with a dull thud.“I told him that, Don,” Pietro said, standing stiff by the door, voice thin. “But he said it’s urgent.”“Everything’s urgent with politicians. They piss in their pants if you don’t smile their way.”The Conversation on the phone with the politician was as expected “You want to run for office, you need a wife,” he said. “A face to hold beside you in press photos. The people like it.”I grunted. “I don’t need a wife. I need Giordano’s head on a stick.”He chuckled. “Well, get one and the other becomes easier.”I hung up. I didn’t have time for suits and puppets.I rubbed my temples, trying to focus. The papers in front of me blurred. Numbers, names, and signatures. A deal with some Italian minister. Talking about political backing and marriage for image, more money, more power.But all Incould think of was her.Katarina.My eyes flicked to th