I dragged myself toward the gate, every inch a fresh agony.

My vision was swimming in a haze of gray.

I heard shouting behind me.

"Stop!"

It was Marco.

He was sprinting toward me, shouldering past the guards who tried to block him.

He reached me just as I collapsed against the iron bars of the gate.

He didn't try to bring me back inside.

He saw the look in my eyes.

He knew.

He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around me in one fluid motion.

"I have a car," he whispered, his voice urgent. "Around the corner."

"Marco," I rasped. "They'll kill you."

"Let them try."

He helped me stand.

I leaned all my weight on him, my legs threatening to give out.

We stumbled through the gate.

Just as we reached his old sedan, Dante materialized at the top of the steps.

"Marco!" he roared. "Step away from her!"

Marco froze.

He turned to face his Don.

"No," Marco said.

The word hung in the air, heavy and impossible.

No one said no to Dante.

Dante marched down the steps.

He looked like a gathering storm.

"She is a traitor," Dante said, his voice vibrating with rage. "She attacked my fiancée."

"She saved your life!" Marco yelled back. "For ten years, she has bled for you. She has killed for you. And you treat her like a dog!"

"She is my property!" Dante shouted. "I decide what happens to her!"

"She is a human being!" Marco stepped in front of me, shielding me with his own body. "And she is the only one in this godforsaken family who ever actually loved you."

Dante stopped.

That hit him like a physical blow.

I saw the flinch.

But his pride was too big.

His ego was too fragile.

"She is nothing," Dante spat. "She is a burden. She is a clingy, desperate child who doesn't know when to let go."

I heard the words.

Strangely, they didn't hurt anymore.

They just confirmed what I already knew.

"Move, Marco," Dante warned, his hand drifting to his holster. "Or I will move you."

Marco didn't budge.

Dante pulled his gun.

He aimed it squarely at Marco's chest.

"Don't," I whispered.

I pushed myself off the car.

I stepped in front of Marco.

I stood swaying on my feet, the world tilting on its axis.

I looked at the gun.

Then I looked at Dante.

"You want to shoot someone?" I asked, my voice hollow. "Shoot me."

Dante's hand wavered.

"Get out of my way, Elena."

"No."

I took a shaky step toward him.

"Do it. Finish what you started in the fountain."

He looked at me.

He looked at the blood soaking through the coat Marco had draped over my shoulders.

He looked at the dark bruises on my neck where his hand had been only moments before.

He lowered the gun.

He couldn't do it.

Not while looking me in the eye.

"Get out," he whispered.

"What?"

"Get out!" he screamed, the sound tearing from his throat. "Leave! If I see you on my land again, I will kill you. If I see you near Sofia, I will kill you. You are dead to this family. Do you hear me? You are dead!"

I looked at him one last time.

I memorized his face.

Not because I loved him.

But because I wanted to remember the face of the man who taught me that love is a weakness.

"I hear you," I said softly.

I turned to Marco.

"Let's go."

Marco helped me into the car.

He got in the driver's seat.

As we drove away, I watched Dante in the rearview mirror.

He was standing alone in the rain.

He looked small.

He looked miserable.

But I didn't feel sorry for him.

I felt light.

I was bleeding.

I was broken.

I had nothing but the clothes on my back.

But for the first time in three years, I could breathe.

"Where to?" Marco asked, his voice thick with emotion.

I looked at the road ahead.

It was dark and uncertain.

"Anywhere," I said. "Just drive."

Marco drove.

We passed the city limits.

We passed the state line.

I watched the sun come up over a landscape I didn't recognize.

I was in pain, but my mind was crystal clear.

I touched my neck.

The ring was gone.

The collar was gone.

I wasn't a canary anymore.

I wasn't a soldier.

I was just Elena.

And for now, that was going to have to be enough.

Dante POV

The air in the private infirmary was thick enough to choke on. It reeked of antiseptic and dread.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the edge of the steel table. Dr. Rossi stood over Isabella, his hands trembling violently inside his latex gloves.

"Well?" I demanded. The sound bounced off the sterile tiles, sharp as a gunshot. "She collapsed during the ceremony. Tell me the baby is safe."

Isabella lay on the gurney, her face pale, her eyes darting between me and the door. She looked like a trapped animal. A beautiful, lethal animal.

"Don Dante..." Dr. Rossi's voice cracked. He stepped back, clutching the ultrasound wand like a shield. He didn't look at me. He stared at the linoleum. "There is no heartbeat."

My world tilted on its axis. "Fix it."

"I cannot fix what was never there, sir."

I froze. The silence that followed was louder than any explosion I had ever heard on the streets.

Isabella sat up abruptly. "Dante, wait-"

Dr. Rossi moved faster than I expected. He reached out and tugged at the hem of her silk hospital gown. Isabella slapped his hand away, letting out a feral shriek, but the movement was enough.

It dislodged the lie.

A silicone pad.

It slid from her abdomen and hit the floor with a wet, pathetic thud.

I stared at the object. It was flesh-colored. Curved. Weighted to feel like life.

But it was just rubber.

"A lie," I whispered. The word tasted like ash and bile.

My gaze snapped up to Isabella. The fear in her eyes vanished, instantly replaced by a cold, hard defiance. She smoothed her gown, her chin lifting in that arrogant tilt I used to mistake for regal strength.

"It was necessary," she said. Her voice was unnervingly steady. "The alliance needed a catalyst. You needed a reason to finally push that little stray, Elena, out of the picture."

Blood roared in my ears.

Elena.

Elena had tried to tell me. Weeks ago, she had stood in my office, tears streaming down her face, holding a medical file she'd found in the trash. I had burned it. I had called her jealous. I had called her a burden.

"She's lying to you, Dante! She isn't carrying your heir!"

I had struck Elena for that.

The memory hit me with the force of a physical blow. I staggered back, my hip colliding with a tray of instruments. Metal clattered to the floor, echoing the chaos in my mind.

"You weren't protecting the bloodline," I said, my voice dangerously low. "You were securing your crown."

"I am the Queen you need!" Isabella screamed, sliding off the bed. She stepped over the silicone abomination on the floor. "Elena was weak. She was a servant, a doormat. I brought you the Rossi territory. I brought you power!"

"You brought me treason."

I grabbed a glass of water from the side table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, shards raining down like broken diamonds.

The doctor flinched. Isabella didn't.

"Get out," I told the doctor. He didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled out the door as if the devil himself were snapping at his heels.

I advanced on Isabella. She backed up until her spine hit the wall. I placed my hands on the plaster on either side of her head, trapping her.

"I prioritized you," I snarled, leaning in until I could smell her expensive perfume. It made me nauseous. "I let Elena walk into a firing line for you. I pushed her into the river for you. Because I thought you carried my child."

"I did it for us," she hissed.

"There is no us."

I reached for her neck. Not to choke her, but to grab the necklace hanging there. The Corleone crest. The symbol of the Don's wife.

I yanked it. The chain snapped, cutting into her skin. A thin line of red welled up.

"You are nothing," I said, dropping the gold into my pocket. "You are not my wife. You are a fraud."

"You can't do this," she laughed, a brittle, manic sound. "The wedding guests are waiting. My father is outside. If you humiliate me, you start a war."

"Then let it burn."

I turned my back on her. The trust I had built my empire on had crumbled in seconds, destroyed by a piece of silicone and my own blinding stupidity.

And the only person who had ever told me the truth was the one I had destroyed to keep this lie alive.