Chapter 4

The clasp on the mask snapped.

The black lace slid down my cheek.

Chloe was already on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, letting out a piercing scream.

The hall fell silent.

The cello music stopped.

A few seconds later, I heard gasps from all around.

I looked up.

My right cheek was exposed to the air. A mangled ruin of dark red scabs and ugly stitches. Raw, ruined flesh.

More gasps rippled through the crowd.

"God, her face is destroyed..."

"Poor Lucian. To get his seat on The Commission, he has to look at that for the rest of his life."

The whispers were like needles in my ears.

I bent down to pick up the mask from the stairs.

"Seraphina, I'm sorry!" Chloe suddenly grabbed my dress, looking up at me, sobbing. "I shouldn't have tried to offer you a toast, please don't push me..."

She cried and apologized.

But her knee shifted, just enough for the pointed toe of her high heel to press down firmly on the black lace mask.

I tugged. It wouldn't budge.

"Move," I hissed, pushing at her shoulder.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my wrist. It yanked me back. Hard.

I was still weak. I couldn't handle the force.

I lost my balance, falling backward. My forehead hit the sharp corner of the railing.

A sickening thud.

The newly healed skin split open again.

Warm blood ran down from my eyebrow, blurring the vision in my right eye.

I pushed myself up, looking through a red haze.

It was Lucian.

He didn't even glance at me, crumpled on the stairs. He slowly took a handkerchief from his pocket.

He wiped the fingers that had just touched my wrist. Then he bent down and helped Chloe to her feet.

"Pulling a stunt like this in front of all the family elders." Lucian looked at me, his voice steady, but utterly cold. "Did the fire burn away all your manners, Seraphina?"

I clutched my bleeding forehead. Blood dripped from my fingers onto the marble.

Matteo pushed through the crowd.

He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Chloe's shoulders. He turned and stared at me.

"I told you we should have moved her to my private estate. You're the Bellini heiress. You have everything. Chloe is just an orphan. Why can't you show her even a little bit of decency?"

My chest felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Heavy. I wanted to cry, but no words would come out.

I have everything?

My fiancé. My childhood friends. My face. My dignity.

Who stole everything from whom?

An old Capo frowned and stepped forward. "Lucian, Matteo, what the hell is going on? I thought you were going to give us an answer tonight about the mole behind the shipyard kidnapping."

The other guests looked on, curious.

Matteo looked down at Chloe, pale in his arms. His eyes darkened.

To protect her reputation, once and for all, he looked up and took a glass of whiskey from a passing waiter's tray.

He tapped the glass lightly with a knife.

The clear, sharp sound silenced the entire room.

"Everyone," Matteo's voice was calm, but it carried to every corner of the hall. "Since we're on the subject, I suppose it's time to air some family business. The kidnapping at the factory... there was no mole. It was all a little show directed by Seraphina. She was jealous of Chloe, so she paid off the Irish herself. She wanted Chloe dead. But the kidnappers double-crossed her. She played with fire, and she got burned."

The air turned to stone.

"For the sake of the late Don, Lucian and I were going to cover up this scandal. We didn't punish her according to family law."

Matteo looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment. "But she feels no remorse. And tonight, she attacks someone in public. If any of you still plan on attending the wedding in three days, I'd suggest bringing extra bodyguards. Who knows what this crazed heiress will do next."

It was a thunderclap. The crowd erupted.

Conspiring with an enemy? Trying to kill her own sister?

The way they looked at me... it changed. I was a freak. A monster.

"Conspiring with the Irish over some petty jealousy? She's insane!"

"Don Bellini was a god. How did he raise such a vicious bitch? She's not fit to be our Donna."

"Ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside. If I were Lucian, I'd give up the inheritance before I'd touch her."

The accusations washed over me like a tsunami.

My father's honor. My own dignity. They had just crushed it all into dust. So calmly. So politely.

I closed my eyes, my chest heaving.

I reached down.

Under everyone's scornful gaze, I slowly pulled the blood-stained mask out from under Chloe's foot. I tied it back on, hiding my ruined face.

Lucian watched me, his voice flat as he delivered his final command. "Stop the pathetic act and go to your room. This is your last warning. You touch Chloe again, and the wedding is off. I would rather give up my inheritance than let a psycho carry my name."

I grabbed the railing and slowly pulled myself to my feet.

I didn't look at Matteo. Or the sneering guests.

I just stared through my blood-red vision, straight into Lucian's cold, gray eyes.

"Don't worry, Lucian. There is no wedding. I won't be there. As for you... and this filthy empire?" I wiped the blood from my eye. "You can keep it."