Chapter 4

Heavy morning rain slammed against the skylights with dull thuds.

My fever raged. I pulled on a heavy black tactical trench coat over my sweat-soaked skin. Bridget supported my weight as we descended into the underground vault.

Matteo had left ironclad orders:

"Take back every encryption key she holds. But without my word, she does not leave Long Island."

He thought stripping my power and cutting off my exits would force me to crawl back to him.

I never cared about his empire. If he wanted it back, I would gladly return it.

Vittoria sat cold and stiff behind the long steel table. Several capos stood silently along the walls.

I pushed the encrypted drives holding our smuggling codes and overseas routes across the surface.

"Everything is here," my voice was flat and hoarse. "As of today, the Castiglione family and I are even."

Vittoria took inventory and sneered. "Satisfied now? I have no idea why you are making such a scene."

I ignored her, turned around, and walked toward the corridor.

Once I cleared this vault and the separation was finalized, I would no longer be his Donna, even if I died on his doorstep.

Near the corner of the hallway, five-year-old Mia slipped away from the maids. She sniffled and reached for my coat. "Auntie... are you leaving..."

Right as her fingers reached out, every light along the corridor went dead. Red emergency strobes flashed frantically.

The perimeter security had been breached.

A muffled blast echoed from the ceiling. The alloy blast hatch was blown completely off by high explosives.

Two hitmen slid down tactical ropes with submachine guns, aiming straight down the hallway.

"Die, Castiglione!"

Instinct moved faster than thought.

The moment muzzle flashes erupted, I shoved Mia into the adjacent panic room and slammed the door shut.

Gunfire tore through the enclosed corridor.

Agony tore through me. The terrifying force knocked me back several steps, slamming my back hard against the concrete pillar.

Blood surged into my throat.

I clamped my jaws shut, swallowed the copper taste, drew my piece from beneath my coat, and pulled the trigger.

Both shooters dropped dead.

Thick smoke drifted down the hall, sucked into the panic room through the unsealed door frame.

Mia began to cough violently inside.

Her swollen airway closed in seconds. Her skin turned a dark, suffocating purple. Her tiny fingers clawed at her throat as convulsions racked her body.

"Mia!" Gianna screamed from behind, dropping to her knees at the doorway. "Matteo! Help! She cannot breathe!"

Heavy boots pounded down the stairwell.

Matteo burst through with his enforcers.

The sight of his choking daughter made his face pale. He scooped her up immediately, patting her back. "Medics! Bring the equipment right now!"

Bridget dropped to her knees beside me, pressing her hands against my lower back, trembling violently. "Don! She took multiple hits! She's bleeding inside!"

Matteo froze for a fraction of a second.

He looked over at me through the haze.

I leaned against the concrete pillar. The heavy black fabric hid the internal bleeding completely. My expression stayed flat, my gun still smoking in my hand.

Matteo's brow furrowed.

In his arms, Mia rolled her eyes back.

"She has body armor. She can still shoot. She's not going to die." Matteo barked, glancing at the spent shells. "Medics, prep the gear! Board the chopper right now! Get Mia to the trauma unit!"

"Don! Her organs are ruptured! She can't hold on!" Bridget scrambled forward, but Matteo's guards pinned her back.

Matteo never looked at Bridget. He carried the convulsing girl toward the elevator.

Passing me, he paused for half a second. He looked down at my colorless face, his voice softened with reassurance:

"Camilla, once Mia is out of danger, I will bring the doctor back to see you myself."

The elevator doors slid shut.

Minutes later, the chopper's blades cut through the storm, fading into the distance.

The only fast medical route off the estate was gone.

The second the elevator closed, my gun slipped from my hand, and I collapsed onto the floor.

Black blood poured from the corner of my mouth.

Bridget shoved past the guards, hauling me back to the cold armory out back.

She cut open my coat and fell to her knees. My left ribs were caved in, my abdomen swollen with purple bruises. The internal bleeding would not stop.

Basin after basin of clean water turned thick with blood.

My vision went gray. A biting chill spread through my limbs.

Listening to the distant rotors in the storm, I coughed out another mouthful of red and smiled.

I cleared out the enemies he brought to my door.

He took every doctor and his chopper, leaving behind nothing but an empty promise to come back.

I waited too long for his promises in this life.

"Bridget... get the metal box," I gasped, blood bubbling at my lips.

She brought the box to my bedside with shaking hands.

"Burn them."

The fire caught.

My bloodstained fingers grabbed the letters, feeding them to the flames.

The paper curled, blackened, and turned to ash.

The first letter he sent from overseas.

Then the second, and the third.

Seven years of loyalty vanished in that fire within minutes.

As the last corner turned to smoke, my hand dropped from the mattress.

The rain outside grew quiet.

Everything went black.

...

The rain stopped.

Outside the trauma room in the city, the nurse handed Matteo the stable vitals sheet.

Mia was out of danger and sleeping soundly.

Matteo loosened his tie, leaning against the cold wall with a sigh of relief. A sudden, sharp ache gripped his chest without reason.

He remembered Camilla's hollow, disappointed eyes in that corridor.

He pushed off the wall and headed for the roof. "Back to Long Island. Have the surgical team bring their trauma kits and follow me."

"Boss, did they send a car for her from the estate?" his lieutenant hurried behind him.

Matteo frowned. "I will check on her myself."

The chopper cut through the lingering fog, landing hard on the Long Island helipad.

Matteo pushed the door open before the rotors stopped. He ran through the gardens and threw open the armory door.

"Camilla, Mia is out of danger. I brought the surgeons..."

The words froze in his throat.

The metallic stench of blood suffocated the entire room.

Bridget knelt beside the bed, her clothes and hands stained with dark, dried blood.

At the sound of the door, Bridget lifted her head. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto the frozen man in the doorway.

"Save your doctors, Don Matteo."

Her voice was raw, stripped of all life:

"An hour after you ordered her to endure, she took her last breath."