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.

Elena POV

I spent the next two days in enforced isolation.

I was confined to my guest suite, but I wasn't sleeping.

I was preparing.

Luca had slipped me a small black case before he dropped me off.

Inside were micro-bugs. Military grade.

I had placed them everywhere.

Hidden in the lamps.

Tucked under the desks.

Wedged behind the paintings in the hallway.

I was always listening.

Suddenly, silence shattered as the door to my room crashed open.

The lock splintered under the force of the blow.

Dante stood in the doorway, his chest heaving.

He was apoplectic.

"You embarrassed the family!" he shouted. "Walking out with a Valenti? Are you insane?"

I sat at my vanity, calmly removing my earrings.

"Get out," I said, not bothering to turn around.

Dante kicked the door shut behind him.

He stormed over to me.

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, his grip bruising.

"I am trying to teach you to be strong!" he yelled, his face inches from mine. "The auction was tough love! You need to learn your place!"

"My place is not beneath your mistress," I said, my voice ice cold.

Dante's expression faltered, then softened.

It was a terrifying shift, a manic snap from rage to tenderness.

He touched my cheek.

His fingers were calloused and rough.

"Elena," he whispered. "If you just accept Livia... we can be happy. She is family. She needs us."

My skin crawled at his touch.

"She is not family," I said. "She is sleeping with you."

"She is my ward!" Dante insisted. "It is complicated!"

"It's not complicated," I said. "You are weak."

Dante stiffened.

"I am the Don," he growled.

"You are a blind fool," I countered. "She reeks of lust and deception, and you are the only one who can't smell it."

Dante raised his hand.

For a second, I thought he was going to strike me.

Then, his phone buzzed.

He looked at it.

His anger vanished instantly, replaced by a pathetic worry.

It was Livia.

"I have to go," he said, stepping back. "Livia isn't feeling well."

"Of course," I said. "Run along, dog."

Dante glared at me, his jaw tight.

"Clean this up," he said, pointing at the broken door. "And fix your attitude."

He left, the heavy wood clicking shut behind him.

I sat there in the silence.

I looked at my reflection, my face a mask of stone.

I reached into my jewelry box.

I pulled out a cheap, tarnished ruby pendant.

It was the first gift Dante had ever given me, years ago, before he became the Don.

Before he became a monster.

I walked to the fireplace.

I threw the pendant into the dancing flames.

I watched the metal blacken and melt, the ruby cracking under the heat.

"Goodbye, Kael," I whispered, using his real name. "Don Dante killed you long ago."

I picked up my tablet.

I put on my headphones.

I activated the bug in Livia's room.

The audio crackled to life.

Livia was on the phone.

She wasn't sick.

She was laughing.

"He's such an idiot," Livia's voice came through, clear as a bell. "I told him I had a migraine. He's running over here with soup."

She paused, listening to the other end.

"No, I don't love him," she said to whoever was on the line. "I love the power. Once I get the ring, I'll control everything. The Princess is already broken. She's pathetic."

My hand tightened on the tablet until my knuckles turned white.

"I'll have her gone by the end of the month," Livia bragged. "Accidents happen, right?"

I pressed the record button.

The red light blinked.

Recording Saved.

I took off the headphones.

A cold smile spread across my face.

"You think I'm broken, Livia?" I whispered to the empty room.

I looked at the file labeled Evidence.

"I'm just reloading."