Elena POV

Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford.

I spent the night staring at the ceiling, feeling the loyalty in my blood wither and die like dead leaves.

When the sun rose, I was a different person.

I chose a black dress.

It was the color of mourning, but I wasn't wearing it to grieve. I was wearing it for war.

With my head held high, I walked into the War Room.

The air was thick with cigar smoke and stale aggression.

Don Salvatore sat at the head of the table.

He was Dante's grandfather, the Consigliere. He looked like a benevolent old man, but his eyes were cold and unblinking, like a reptile waiting to strike.

Dante was there.

He looked up as I entered, irritation flashing across his features.

"Elena," he said, his tone dismissive. "We are in a meeting. Get out."

I didn't flinch.

I walked to the table and slammed a thick file down on the mahogany surface.

The sound echoed like a gunshot in the sudden silence.

"The engagement is over," I said.

My voice was steady, betraying none of the tremors inside me.

Silence descended on the room.

Don Salvatore chuckled, a dry, rasping sound.

"My dear," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "A Mafia union is a blood oath. You don't just cancel it like a magazine subscription."

"It's a business contract," I corrected him, locking eyes with the old man. "And your grandson has breached the terms."

Dante stood up.

He towered over me, casting a long shadow across the table.

"What are you talking about?" he growled.

I pointed at the file.

"My father controls sixty percent of the shipping containers you use for your northern smuggling routes," I said.

Dante's eyes narrowed.

"I have frozen your access," I continued, savoring the words. "As of this morning, the Moretti family is locked out of the ports."

The color drained from Dante's face.

"You wouldn't dare," he whispered.

"I just did," I said. "I want an annulment. I want safe passage out of this city. Or I will choke your revenue stream until you are begging on the street."

Don Salvatore looked at the file, flipping it open to see the embargo orders.

He realized the gravity of the threat.

"We need to consult the Commission," Salvatore said quickly, his demeanor shifting from arrogant to cautious. "Elena, be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable," I said. "I'm leaving."

I turned and walked out.

My heart was pounding against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of adrenaline.

I had just threatened the most dangerous men in the city.

And for the first time in years, I felt alive.

I walked down the hallway toward the exit.

The door to Dante's bedroom opened.

Livia stepped out.

She was wearing a silk robe that was too big for her-it was Dante's.

She smelled of sex and his cologne, a cloying mixture that turned my stomach.

She saw me and smiled.

It was a sweet, poisonous smile.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked.

"Get out of my way, Livia," I said.

"Dante kept me up all night," she bragged, leaning against the wall with performative exhaustion. "We had so much... family business to discuss."

She laughed.

I snapped.

I tried to walk past her, but she stepped in front of me.

I pushed her arm aside.

It was a gentle shove, just enough to get her out of my personal space.

But Livia seized the opportunity. She threw herself backward.

She hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow!" she screamed. "Elena! Stop!"

She curled into a ball, fake sobbing.

"Why did you push me?" she wailed.

Footsteps thundered down the hall.

Dante appeared.

He saw Livia on the floor.

He saw me standing over her.

He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look at me.

He rushed to Livia, kneeling beside her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice tender.

"She pushed me," Livia sobbed into his chest. "I just said good morning."

Dante looked up at me.

His eyes were full of hate.

"What is wrong with you?" he shouted.

He used his Don's Voice-a tone honed to command absolute submission.

It usually made my knees weak.

Today, it just made me angry.

"She threw herself down," I said. "She's lying."

"Livia is fragile," Dante spat. "She is under my protection. You are bullying her because you are jealous."

"Jealous of a whore?" I asked, my voice dripping with disdain.

Dante stood up.

He got in my face, invading my space with menacing intent.

"Apologize," he ordered.

"No," I said.

"Apologize to her, Elena," he hissed. "Or you will regret it."

He was humiliating me.

He was choosing his mistress over his fiancée, over his business partner, over the truth.

I looked at Livia.

She was peeking out from behind her hands.

She was smirking.

I looked back at Dante.

"You are a fool," I said.

Dante grabbed my arm.

His grip was bruising.

"Get out of my sight," he said. "Go to your room. We will deal with your attitude later."

He shoved me away.

He turned back to Livia, lifting her into his arms like she was a broken bird.

He carried her away.

I stood alone in the hallway.

My arm throbbed where he had grabbed me.

I touched the spot, feeling the heat of the forming bruise.

"You will regret this, Dante," I whispered to the empty air.

"Today you chose her. Tomorrow, you lose everything."

Elena POV

I needed to feel something-anything-other than this suffocating emotional agony.

Desperate for a distraction, I went to the gym.

It was a massive facility located on the west wing of the estate, filled with state-of-the-art equipment that rivaled professional training centers.

Mechanically, I changed into my workout gear.

My hands were shaking, but I forced them to grip the rough ropes of the obstacle course. I needed to burn the frustration out of my blood.

I started to climb.

Physical pain was simpler, cleaner, easier to handle.

If my muscles burned, I didn't have to think about Dante carrying Livia away.

I reached the top of the rope and transitioned to the high-wire walk.

It was twenty feet above the mats-a dangerous drop, but I craved the focus it required.

I balanced carefully.

Then, below me, across the gym, I saw them.

Dante and Livia were at the archery range.

He was standing behind her, his large frame eclipsing hers as he adjusted her stance.

His chest was pressed firmly against her back.

He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled-a light, tinkling sound that echoed in the cavernous room.

Nausea rolled in my stomach, acidic and sharp.

I grit my teeth and focused on the wire.

One foot in front of the other.

I was halfway across when I heard it.

Snap.

It wasn't a gradual tearing sound.

It was sudden, violent, like a gunshot.

The main support cable gave way.

The wire dropped out from under me.

Gravity took over.

I fell.

Twenty feet is a long way down when you aren't expecting it.

I hit the mat.

Crack.

The sound of my own bone snapping was louder than the impact.

Agony exploded in my leg.

It blinded me, robbing the air from my lungs.

White hot pain shot up my spine.

I screamed.

It was a raw, animalistic sound that tore through my throat.

Through my blurred vision, I looked toward the archery range.

I expected Dante to be running toward me.

I expected him to be terrified.

But he wasn't looking at me.

He had turned to Livia.

Livia had dropped her bow and was clutching her chest, pretending to be startled by the noise of the cable snapping.

"Oh my god!" she shrieked. "That noise scared me!"

Dante wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay," he soothed her. "It's just an accident. You're safe."

He was comforting her.

I was lying on the floor with a shattered leg, possibly bleeding internally, and he was comforting the woman who wasn't even scratched.

"Dante..." I choked out.

He finally looked over his shoulder.

He saw me on the floor.

He didn't run.

He walked.

He walked slowly, his face twisted with annoyance.

"Clumsy," he muttered as he got closer.

My spirit broke.

It wasn't the bone.

It was the indifference.

The Family Doctor rushed in a moment later.

He knelt beside me, cutting away my pant leg.

He looked up at the cable.

He frowned.

"This is a clean cut," the doctor whispered, his voice low so only I could hear. "This cable was sawed halfway through with a blade."

I froze.

I looked at Livia.

She was watching from a distance, a small smile playing on her lips.

She did this.

Darkness swarmed my vision, and I passed out from the pain.

When I woke up, I was in the infirmary.

My leg was in a cast.

I was groggy from the morphine, my head swimming in a heavy fog.

I heard voices.

Dante was standing by the window.

Livia was with him.

"Is she going to die?" Livia asked. She didn't sound worried. She sounded hopeful.

"No," Dante said.

He sounded cold.

"She won't die," he whispered. "This just reminds her who holds the real power. Pain is a good teacher."

I closed my eyes.

He knew.

He knew she had cut the cable.

He knew she had tried to kill me, or at least maim me.

And he was protecting her.

He was letting her get away with it.

The last ember of love I had for Dante turned to ice.

My heart didn't feel like flesh anymore.

It felt like a stone.

I lay there in the dark, listening to them leave.

I didn't cry.

I was done crying.

I made a promise to myself in that hospital bed.

I would heal.

And then I would hunt.

Elena POV

Three weeks later, I walked into the Charity Auction with a spine of steel and a leg that felt like it was on fire.

The bone was healed, thanks to the best underground surgeons money could buy, though it still throbbed with a dull, rhythmic ache whenever the rain fell.

But I wasn't limping.

I refused to limp.

I was wearing a dress made of midnight blue silk that clung to every curve like a second skin, a dark contrast to the bruising I was hiding underneath.

And I wasn't alone.

On my arm was Luca Valenti.

He was the Underboss of the Valenti Syndicate, the Moretti family's sworn rivals, and walking in with him was tantamount to declaring war.

He was lethal. Not in the loud, brash way of my family, but in the quiet way of a stopped heart.

He was a ghost in the machine, a man who killed with technology as easily as he did with a gun.

He looked down at me, his dark eyes unreadable.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Beautiful as a war."

"Thank you for escorting me," I replied, tightening my grip on his arm.

"It is my pleasure to annoy Dante," Luca smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye.

We walked into the ballroom.

The room went silent. The music seemed to falter; the clinking of champagne flutes ceased.

Heads turned. Necks craned.

Whispers erupted like wildfire, racing from table to table.

The Moretti Princess with the Valenti Wolf?

We sat at a table directly opposite Dante.

Dante was there with Livia.

Livia was wearing white, trying to look innocent, like a sacrificial lamb unaware of the slaughter.

Dante saw me.

His eyes went to Luca's hand, which was resting possessively on the back of my chair. The air between our tables crackled with sudden violence.

Dante's jaw clenched. A muscle feathered in his cheek.

He looked like he wanted to murder someone.

Good.

The Auctioneer stepped up to the podium, oblivious to the tension thick enough to choke on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced. "Our final item tonight. The Blue Diamond necklace. Legend says it brings eternal luck to unions."

A screen displayed the necklace. It was a teardrop of frozen ocean, glittering under the lights.

It was stunning.

Livia gasped, her hand flying to her throat.

"Dante," she whispered, loud enough for the silence to carry her voice to our table. "It's perfect for a Queen."

Dante looked at me. His gaze was heavy, challenging.

He wanted to mark his territory.

"Five hundred thousand," Dante bid, his voice cutting through the room.

I raised my paddle without hesitation.

"Six hundred thousand," I said calmly.

Dante glared at me.

"Seven hundred," he barked.

"Eight hundred," I countered.

Livia pulled on Dante's sleeve, her facade of elegance slipping.

"I want it," she whined.

Dante looked at Luca, who was smiling at me like I was the only woman in the world.

Dante's ego couldn't take it. He couldn't stand seeing another man enjoy what he had discarded.

"One million dollars," Dante shouted.

The room gasped.

I raised my paddle again, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"One point one," I said.

Dante didn't raise his paddle. Instead, he pulled out his phone.

He tapped the screen once. Twice.

My phone buzzed in my clutch.

I looked at it.

Alert: Bank Account Frozen. Authorization: Don Dante Moretti.

I stared at the screen, the blood draining from my face.

He had cut me off.

He was using his control over the joint family accounts to silence me, to remind me that in his world, women were only powerful if he allowed them to be.

"Do you have a bid, Signorina?" the Auctioneer asked, his brow furrowed.

I looked at Dante.

He was smirking. It was a cruel, triumphant twist of lips.

He held up his phone, showing me the banking app displayed on his screen.

He had won.

Or so he thought.

"No bid," I said softly, lowering the paddle.

"Sold!" the Auctioneer yelled. "To Don Dante!"

Dante stood up, arrogance radiating from him in waves.

He took the necklace box.

He didn't look at me.

He turned to Livia and clasped the diamonds around her neck.

"Jewels belong to those who shine," he announced to the room, his voice booming with false magnanimity.

Livia beamed, touching the diamonds as if they were a holy relic.

She looked at me with triumph.

I stood up. Pain shot up my leg, but I forced a smile onto my face.

I walked over to their table.

Luca was right behind me, a silent shadow promising retribution.

"It suits you, Livia," I said, my voice sweet as poisoned honey.

Her smile faltered at my tone.

"It looks exactly like a dog collar," I said, leaning in close. "Make sure you heel when he calls."

The people at the nearby tables gasped.

Livia's face turned red, clashing violently with the diamonds.

Dante stepped forward, looming over me.

"Watch your mouth," he warned, his voice a low growl.

"Or what?" I asked, tilting my head. "You'll cut my brakes next time instead of my gym cable?"

Dante froze. The color drained from his face.

I turned to Luca.

"Take me home," I said.

"Gladly," Luca said, offering me his arm.

We walked out into the cool night air.

"That was impressive," Luca said.

"It wasn't enough," I said, shaking my head. "He humiliated me."

"He dug his own grave," Luca corrected, opening the car door for me. "He just showed the world he abuses his power to petty ends."

He paused, his hand resting on the frame of the door.

"I can help you," Luca said. "I can help you buy his kingdom out from under him."

I looked at the Valenti heir. I saw the danger in his eyes, and the opportunity.

"What's the price?" I asked.

"Everything," Luca said, his gaze intense. "Burn him down. Build something new with me."

I looked back at the hotel.

I saw Dante watching us from the balcony, a silhouette against the light.

"Deal," I said.