Sienna Vitiello POV

I didn't go home to cry.

I went straight to my office and packed a single box.

My degree. A framed photo of my parents. The small, resilient cactus Giulia had given me.

I left the files. I left the contact lists. I left the solutions to the problems I knew Valeria would create within the week.

I typed my formal resignation letter on my phone while waiting for the elevator.

It was two sentences long.

With the digital trail established, I marched back to Dante’s office.

His secretary tried to stop me, half-rising from her chair.

"He is in a meeting with Ms. Rossi," she stammered.

I pushed past her and shoved the door open.

Valeria was perched on the edge of his desk, laughing.

They stopped the moment I entered.

Dante looked annoyed, irritation flickering across his features.

"We are discussing strategy, Sienna."

I walked up to the desk and placed my phone down, showing him the email I had just sent.

"I resign."

Dante rolled his eyes. He picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers, bored.

"Stop the drama, Sienna. You’re upset about the promotion. Take a week off. Go to the spa."

He didn't believe me.

He thought I was a fixture. A lamp that could be moved but never removed.

"I’m not upset," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I’m done."

I pulled the hard copy I had prepared earlier from my pocket.

"Sign it."

He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time that day.

He saw the lack of emotion in my eyes. He saw the void where his loyal assistant used to be.

He snatched the paper, signed it with a sharp, angry scrawl, and shoved it back across the mahogany.

"Fine," he snapped. "If you want to throw a tantrum, go ahead. You’ll be back begging for your job in a month."

I took the paper.

"Thank you," I said.

I turned to leave.

"Oh, and Sienna?" Valeria called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Leave your key card on the desk."

I dropped the plastic card on the carpet.

I didn't look back.

I took a cab straight to the penthouse.

I called a real estate agent who specialized in discreet, cash-only transactions for the underworld.

"I want it sold," I told him. "Today."

"But Ms. Vitiello, the market is—"

"I don't care about the price," I interrupted, cutting him off. "I want it gone."

Two hours later, a shell company owned by the Russian Bratva bought it.

They paid twenty percent under market value.

I didn't care.

I packed one suitcase.

Clothes. My passport. The cash from the sale.

My phone buzzed against the countertop.

It was a text from Giulia.

Sienna, please come to the Gala tonight. It’s my birthday. I know you hate him right now, but do it for me. Please.

I looked at the suitcase.

I looked at the empty apartment, stripped of its soul.

One last night.

One last performance.

I would go. I would say goodbye to the only Moretti who had ever treated me like a human being.

And then, I would vanish.

Sienna Vitiello POV

The Moretti Estate blazed against the night sky, a fortress bracing for a coronation.

A parade of luxury cars lined the driveway. The air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and roasted meat.

I entered through the servant’s entrance.

I wasn't the future Mrs. Moretti anymore. I was a ghost.

I wore a black dress with long sleeves, a high neck, and a plunging open back.

It looked like mourning attire.

I slipped into the ballroom, sticking to the shadows that clung to the perimeter.

I saw them immediately.

Dante and Valeria.

They were standing near the orchestra, holding court.

Valeria was wearing a red dress that demanded attention. She was laughing, her hand resting possessively on Dante’s chest.

He looked... content.

He looked like a man who had everything he wanted.

My father was there, talking to the Don. They were laughing.

They didn't know yet.

They didn't know the alliance was dead.

I found Giulia near the chocolate fountain.

"Sienna!" she squealed, nearly tackling me in a tight hug. "You came!"

"Happy birthday, G," I whispered, pressing a small velvet box into her hand.

It was a pair of diamond earrings I had designed myself. The last thing I created before I lost my memory.

She opened it and gasped.

"They’re beautiful. But... why do you look like you’re saying goodbye?"

"Because I am."

Her face fell.

"Sienna, don't. Dante is just being an idiot. He’ll come around."

"He won't," I said, my voice hollow. "And I don't want him to."

The noise of the party began to swell, suffocating me.

"I need air," I told her.

I retreated to one of the guest rooms on the second floor. It was quiet here.

I sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the muffled thrum of music from below.

The door creaked open.

I expected Giulia.

It was Valeria.

She slipped inside and turned the lock with a sharp click.

"Hiding?" she asked, her voice mocking.

I stood up.

"Get out, Valeria."

She walked toward me, running her hand along the antique dresser.

"You know," she said, picking up a heavy silver candelabra. "I always hated you. Even when my husband was alive."

"Why?" I asked. "I never did anything to you."

"Because you were perfect," she spat. "The perfect Vitiello princess. And I was just a soldier’s wife."

She stepped closer.

"But now? Now I have everything. I have your job. I have your man."

"He’s not a prize, Valeria," I said calmly. "He’s a job. And you’re welcome to him."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You think you’re better than me?"

"I think I’m free," I said.

She laughed, a harsh, brittle sound.

"You’re nothing. You’re just a failed investment."

She shoved me.

I stumbled back, hitting the heavy curtains.

"Don't touch me," I warned.

She shoved me again, harder.

I grabbed her wrist.

She shrieked and swung the candelabra.

It hit my shoulder with a dull thud of pain.

I pushed her back.

She stumbled, her heels catching on the rug.

She flailed, losing her grip on the heavy silver.

It crashed onto the floor.

The lit candles rolled onto the heavy velvet drapes.

With a terrifying whoosh, the fabric caught fire instantly. The flames licked up the dry material, hungry and fast.

"Fire!" Valeria screamed.

She scrambled toward the door.

It was locked. She fumbled with the latch, panic making her clumsy.

The room filled with acrid smoke.

I coughed, my eyes stinging.

I moved to help her with the door.

She looked at me, her eyes wide with malice.

She shoved me backward, toward the burning curtains.

"Stay there!" she screamed.

She got the door open and slipped through.

Before I could follow, the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked into place.

"Dante!"

Sienna Vitiello POV

The heat was a physical weight, suffocating and absolute.

The fire had jumped from the curtains to the canopy bed, transforming the room into a roaring inferno.

I was on the floor, coughing, the smoke filling my lungs like hot black tar.

I heard shouting in the hallway.

"Dante!" Valeria screamed again.

He appeared in the doorway.

He looked like a warrior forged in hellfire, his face illuminated by the orange glow of the flames.

He saw us both.

Valeria was by the door, untouched, staging a fit of fake-coughing.

I was near the window, trapped behind a wall of fire, my dress already singed.

"Dante, help me!" I croaked.

He looked at me.

For a split second, I saw hesitation.

Then Valeria whimpered.

"My leg! I can't walk!"

It was a lie. I had seen her run to the door.

Dante didn't check.

He didn't think.

Without a second thought, he scooped Valeria up into his arms.

"I’ll get you out, Val," he said, his voice thick with that savior complex that was going to kill me.

He turned his back on me.

"Dante!" I screamed.

He didn't turn around.

He walked out of the room, carrying the woman who started the fire, leaving me to burn.

I watched his silhouette disappear into the smoke.

And that was the moment Sienna Vitiello died.

The heat seared my skin.

I crawled toward the bathroom. Water. I needed water.

The ceiling groaned. A beam crashed down, blocking the door.

I curled into a ball on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, pressing a wet towel to my face.

I closed my eyes and waited for the end.

I didn't pray to God. I cursed Dante Moretti.

Time blurred.

Then, a crash.

Strong arms lifted me. Not Dante.

A firefighter.

I woke up in the hospital. Again.

The rhythmic beep of the monitor was the soundtrack of my life lately.

Giulia was there, holding my hand. She was crying.

"You’re alive," she sobbed.

I sat up. My throat was raw as sandpaper. My arm was bandaged where the burns had licked my skin.

"Where is he?" I rasped.

Giulia looked away.

"He’s... with the police. Giving a statement."

The door banged open.

Dante marched in.

He smelled of smoke and ruin. His suit was destroyed.

He looked furious.

"Are you insane?" he shouted.

Giulia stood up. "Dante, stop!"

"You tried to kill her!" he accused, pointing a finger at me. "Valeria told me everything. You locked the door. You set the curtains on fire."

I stared at him.

The audacity was breathtaking.

"Is that what she said?" I whispered.

"She said you went crazy with jealousy," he spat. "You’re lucky she’s generous enough not to press charges."

I laughed. It hurt my throat, but I couldn't stop.

"Get out," I said.

"I’m not done—"

"I said get out!" I screamed, my voice cracking.

Giulia stepped between us.

"There are cameras in the hallway, Dante!" she yelled. "We can prove who entered the room first!"

Dante paused. Doubt flickered in his eyes.

I ripped the IV out of my arm. Blood dripped onto the white sheets.

"I’m leaving," I said, sliding off the bed.

"Sienna, you need treatment," Giulia pleaded.

"I’m going to New York," I said, walking past Dante.

He grabbed my arm. Not the burned one.

"You can't just leave. The contract—"

"Burn it," I said, looking him in the eye. "Just like you left me to burn."

He flinched.

I pulled my arm free.

I walked out of the hospital in a stolen gown and a pair of slippers.

I took a cab to O'Hare.

I bought a ticket to JFK.

As the plane took off, I looked down at the city of Chicago.

It looked small.

I blocked Dante’s number.

I blocked Giulia’s number.

I closed my eyes.

I was alone. I was burned. I was broken.

But I was free.