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."

Elena POV

The Grand Ballroom was a sea of black tuxedos and designer gowns, a shark tank masquerading as a high-society gala.

I walked in on the arm of a wolf.

Luca Valenti wore his tuxedo like armor, the fabric tailored to conceal the holsters I knew were strapped tight against his ribs.

I wore the Heart of the North.

The diamond rested cold and heavy against my sternum, a blue fire that eclipsed every other jewel in the room. It was a Valenti heirloom, and wearing it tonight was nothing short of a declaration of war.

Silence rippled through the crowd as we descended the staircase. I watched the whispers forming on painted lips, saw the eyes of the Five Families darting between me and the far corner of the room.

Dante was there.

He gripped a glass of scotch, his knuckles white as he stared at Luca's hand possessively claiming my waist. Next to him stood Livia.

She was wearing the Blue Diamond he had bought at the auction, but the gem looked tacky against her pale skin, swallowing her whole. She looked small-like a child playing dress-up in her mother's jewelry.

We reached the floor, and a waiter immediately materialized with a tray of champagne.

"The necklace suits you, Signorina," he murmured, his eyes wide with awe. "It looks like freedom."

I took a glass.

"It feels like it," I said.

But the peace didn't last. Livia marched toward us, dragging Dante by the sleeve, her face twisted in a mask of counterfeit concern.

She stopped in front of me, reaching out to touch the diamond at my throat.

"Oh, Elena," she cooed. "Is this a loan? It must be terrifying to wear something you don't own."

Luca caught her wrist before she could make contact. He didn't squeeze; he simply held it there, suspended in the air like a caught fly.

"Do not touch what is mine," Luca growled.

His voice was low, a rumble of thunder that vibrated deep in my chest.

Livia yanked her hand back, looking immediately to Dante, waiting for him to defend her honor.

Dante stepped forward, his haunted eyes locked on mine.

"Take it off, Elena," he said. "You are making a scene."

"I am the scene," I replied.

Livia laughed-a brittle, sharp sound.

"You're just a political inconvenience," she whispered, stepping closer so only I could hear. "Dante sleeps in my bed. He laughs about you while he's inside me."

I felt the ghost of an old sting, but the wound had long since calloused over.

"Enjoy the leftovers, Livia," I said.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. She reached into her clutch and pulled out a small remote, pointing it at the massive projector screen behind the stage where a tribute to the families was looping.

"Let's see who the city really respects," she hissed.

She pressed the button.

The music cut out. The screen flickered, and a video began to play.

It was grainy footage, taken from a hidden camera in my old bedroom at the Moretti estate months ago.

I was crying. I was curled on the floor, sobbing Dante's name, begging the empty room for him to love me.

It was raw. It was pathetic. It was the most vulnerable moment of my life, broadcast to three hundred of the most dangerous people in the country.

Laughter rippled through the room.

"Look at her!" Livia shouted over the audio of my own weeping. "She's unstable! She's obsessed!"

My blood turned to ice.

Livia smiled at me, triumphant.

"Leave the city, Elena," she threatened. "Or I release the rest."

I looked at Dante.

He was watching the screen. He wasn't stopping it. He was letting it play. He was letting her strip me naked in front of the world.

Something inside me snapped. I didn't think; I moved.

I stepped forward and swung my hand.

My palm connected with Livia's cheek.

Crack.

The sound silenced the ballroom instantly.

Livia stumbled back, clutching her face.

"Dante!" she screamed.

Dante moved then, rushing to her side and turning on me with a snarl.

"You dare touch her?" he roared.

"She is humiliating me," I said, my voice deadly steady. "And you are watching."

"She is showing the truth!" Dante yelled. "You are weak!"

Luca didn't speak.

He simply picked up a heavy wooden chair from a nearby table and hurled it at the screen.

The chair smashed into the projector surface, tearing the fabric and shattering the image of my tears.

The room gasped.

Luca walked to the center of the floor. He pulled a gun from his jacket, holding it loosely at his side.

"Elena is under Valenti protection," Luca announced.

His voice carried to every corner of the room, leaving no room for argument.

"Anyone who insults her, insults me. Anyone who films her, dies."

He looked at Dante with cold, dead eyes.

"Control your whore, Moretti. Or I will put her down."

Dante stiffened.

Don Salvatore, who had been watching from the shadows, stepped forward, his face pale.

"This is a neutral zone!" Salvatore shouted.

"Not anymore," Luca said.

He offered me his arm.

"Shall we?" he asked.

I looked at Livia. Her cheek was blazing red. She was trembling, but her eyes were still full of hate.

"Now," I whispered to her. "Let's see if you survive the hand you've dealt."

I took Luca's arm.

We walked out, leaving the shattered screen and the shattered engagement behind us.