Chapter 4

My mother rushed in and helped Sophia up off the broken glass.

"Sophia, where are you hurt?" she asked anxiously.

Sophia threw herself into her arms and cried, "Auntie, Angelina's trying to cripple my hands!"

My mother raised her hand and slapped me hard.

She shouted, "Sophia was lost to us as a child and suffered terribly. We took her in as our goddaughter. So what if we love her a little more?"

I licked the blood from my lip.

"That slap was for her?"

My mother's voice was cold. "And if it was?"

I nodded. "Noted."

My father walked up to me and ordered sharply, "Let go of the Don, and get on your knees and beg the Donna's forgiveness!"

I looked at him. "And if I don't?"

"Then you're out of this family," my father said darkly. "Whether you live or die is none of our concern!"

I laughed out loud.

"When you tricked her out of the Reapers' token, why didn't you say she was none of your concern?

"When you stripped her of everything she owned, why didn't you say she was none of your concern?"

My father's eyes shifted, but he still snapped back stubbornly, "The Reapers were a pack of thugs Sera left behind! She was vicious and cruel, and she deserved to die!"

My mother pointed at me too. "If your sister were still alive and saw you trying to kill the Donna, she'd be ashamed of you!"

My smile widened.

Deserved to die. How lovely.

It seemed they'd forgotten how they'd sobbed on their knees, begging me to disappear.

Now that she had someone on her side, Sophia found her nerve again.

She said gently, "Angelina, if you get on your knees and admit you were wrong, I'll beg Nick to spare your life. I'll even have the lockup fixed up so you won't be cold or hungry anymore."

I glanced down at her bleeding knees.

"Didn't you get enough of kneeling just now?"

Sophia went pale and immediately hid behind my mother.

My mother snatched up the whip and swung it at me hard.

This time, I caught the end of the whip and yanked.

My mother stumbled toward me.

I wrapped the whip around her wrists in one move and tied her to the leg of the table.

My father started forward, but I kicked over a chair and pinned his foot under it.

I slowly ground the toe of my shoe down on his foot.

My father's face turned gray with pain.

I smiled. "Dad, before you throw me out of the family, you'll have to pay what you owe."

Nick roared, "Guards, cut the tendons in her hands!"

More than a dozen bodyguards drew their guns and closed in.

I let go of the whip and bent down to pick up a hunting knife.

Sophia thought I was finally scared.

Hiding behind my mother, she sneered under her breath. "Without the family protecting you, you're nothing."

I ignored her.

I gripped the handle and spun the knife once in my palm.

Twice.

As the third spin ended, I slowly ran my thumb along the back of the blade.

It was a habit I had before every fight.

When I was little, someone pushed my sister into an icy pond on purpose.

I spun the knife three times like this, then, right in front of my parents, slowly cut the tendons in that person's hands and feet.

My mother's furious expression froze.

She stared at my hand as the color drained from her face.

My father forgot all about his foot and stumbled backward.

Knife in hand, I walked toward my parents one step at a time.

"Dad. Mom.

"Three years. Did you miss me?"

I stopped right in front of them and smiled sweetly.

"So. Which one of you wants to tell me first?

"Where is my sister?"