Three days later, I returned to the Russo estate.

The mansion was silent, a mausoleum built of marble and gold. I walked through the grand hallway, my footsteps echoing against the cold stone. I was still weak, my body struggling to recover from the infection, but I had nowhere else to go. Not yet.

Needing air, I went to the backyard, drawn by the rhythmic sound of splashing water.

The pool was an Olympic-sized monstrosity of turquoise tile, heated to a perfect eighty degrees. It had been built for me when I was twelve, back when the doctor said swimming would help my asthma.

Sofia was there.

She was lounging on a chaise, draped in a white bikini that likely cost more than most people's cars. She saw me and smiled—a sharp, predatory expression that didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh, look who's back," she called out, sipping a bright orange cocktail. "The accountant."

I ignored her, turning on my heel to go back inside.

"Wait!" she shouted, standing up abruptly. She held up a key card. "Luca gave me the key to your office. He said I'm the Lead Accountant now. He slept at my apartment last night, by the way. He said I have nightmares, so he had to stay."

I stopped. I didn't turn around.

"Keep the key, Sofia. You'll need it when the IRS audits the shell companies."

I heard her footsteps slap against the concrete behind me.

"You think you're so smart," she hissed. "But you're just a thief. This pool? It's mine now. Everything here is mine."

I turned to face her. She was standing dangerously close to the edge of the deep end.

"Then enjoy it," I said flatly.

Suddenly, Sofia let out a piercing shriek. She raked her own fingernails down her arm, leaving three angry red welts, and threw herself backward.

She hit the water with a massive splash.

"Help! She tried to kill me!" she screamed, thrashing in the water as if she couldn't swim.

The patio doors burst open instantly. Frank and Maria Russo—my adoptive parents—rushed out, followed by Luca.

"Sofia!" Maria screamed, running to the edge.

"She pushed me!" Sofia wailed, coughing up water. "Elena pushed me!"

Frank Russo didn't ask a question. He didn't even look at me. He charged like a bull.

Before I could speak, before I could raise my hands, Frank’s heavy boot slammed into my chest.

The air left my lungs in a painful whoosh. I flew backward, tumbling into the deep end of the pool.

The water swallowed me. I sank, the cold shock stunning my system. I couldn't swim well—my asthma had never really gone away—and the heavy wool coat I was wearing dragged me down like an anchor.

I thrashed, fighting for the surface. I broke the water, gasping.

"Dad!" I choked out. "I didn't—"

"Liar!" Maria shrieked from the deck. "Look at her arm! You vicious little brat!"

Frank stood by the edge, watching me struggle. "You want to drown my daughter? Then you can see how it feels."

I went under again. My lungs burned. I kicked, fighting the crushing weight of my clothes.

Suddenly, a splash. Strong arms wrapped around my waist. Luca.

He hauled me to the surface and dragged me toward the stairs. I coughed, retching up chlorinated water, clinging to him. For a second, I thought he had saved me because he cared.

He hauled me onto the concrete and immediately released me. My head cracked against the hard tile with a sickening thud.

"Are you insane?" Luca shouted, standing over me, water dripping from his suit. "Look at what you did to her!"

I lay there, gasping, looking up at them. Sofia was wrapped in a towel in Maria's arms, sobbing fake tears. Frank looked at me with pure hatred. And Luca... Luca looked disgusted.

"I didn't touch her," I whispered, my voice broken.

"Stop lying!" Luca roared. "You are incorrigible, Elena. Always causing drama. Always hurting her because you're jealous."

He walked over to Sofia and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Touch her again, Elena," Luca said, his voice dropping to a lethal calm. "Touch her again, and I will forget who you are. I will forget the last eleven years."

He turned his back on me.

"Come on, Sofia. Let's get you inside."

They walked away, leaving me coughing up water on the cold concrete, shivering as the sun began to set.

Twenty minutes later, I dragged myself into the living room, leaving a glistening trail of water on the Persian rugs. My jaw ached from the violence of my chattering teeth; I thought they might crack.

The family was gathered by the fireplace, bathed in warmth. They were laughing. Sofia cradled a mug of hot cocoa, looking perfectly pristine.

When I entered, the laughter died.

"My ring!" Sofia gasped, clutching her chest the moment she saw me. "My diamond ring! It's gone!"

She looked at me, her eyes widening in mock horror. "It must have fallen off in the pool when she pushed me!"

Frank Russo stood up, his face darkening to a dangerous shade of purple. "That ring is a family heirloom. It’s worth fifty grand."

"I didn't push her," I said, my voice reduced to a hoarse croak. "And I don't have the ring."

"You threw it in there, didn't you?" Maria accused, stepping forward. "You spiteful little thief."

"I didn't!"

"Go get it," Frank ordered.

I looked at him, trembling uncontrollably. "I’m hypothermic, Frank," I managed, my lips numb and blue. "I can't go back in there."

"I said get it!"

Frank grabbed me by my wet hair and dragged me toward the patio doors. I screamed, clawing at his hand, but he was too strong.

He threw me out the door. I stumbled and fell hard onto the cold patio stones.

"Find the ring, Elena. Or don't come back inside."

I looked through the glass doors. I looked at Luca. He was standing by the fireplace, watching. He could stop this. He was the Underboss. One word from him, and Frank would back down.

Luca walked to the glass door. With a fluid motion, he opened it and stepped out into the cold.

I looked up at him, hope flaring in my chest. "Please, Luca."

He reached down. When he straightened, in his hand was a diving mask.

"You owe her this, Elena," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "If you find it quickly, you can come in and warm up."

He dropped the mask on the ground next to me.

I stared at the mask, then at him. The man I had loved for a decade. The man I had planned to marry.

He wasn't saving me. He was handing me the tool for my own torture.

Frank shoved me toward the water. "Get in!"

I put the mask on. I slid into the freezing water.

For five hours, I dove.

The pool lights were off. It was pitch black underwater. I had to feel the bottom with my numb fingers, inch by inch. Every time I surfaced for air, I saw them sitting on the heated patio, drinking wine, watching me.

Once, when I stayed on the surface too long to catch my breath, Dante poked me with the pool skimmer, pushing my head back under.

"Dive, rat," he laughed.

Somewhere around the third hour, my body stopped shivering. That was bad. That meant my core temperature was dropping dangerously low. My movements became sluggish, as if I was moving through gelatin.

I found it near the drain in the deep end. The glint of gold.

I grabbed it. I kicked to the surface, my lungs screaming. I swam to the edge and tossed the ring onto the concrete.

"Found it," I whispered.

Sofia squealed and ran over, snatching the ring. "Oh, thank God! It was my only comfort when I was kidnapped!"

She didn't look at me. She put the ring on and sauntered back to the warmth of the house.

Frank and Maria followed her.

I tried to pull myself out of the pool, but my arms wouldn't work. I had no strength left. I hooked my chin over the edge of the pool to keep from drowning.

Luca walked over. He looked down at me, his face unreadable in the shadows.

He didn't offer me a hand.

"Behave yourself from now on, Elena," he said quietly.

Then he turned and walked inside, locking the sliding glass door behind him.

I hung there in the water, alone in the dark, and felt the final thread connecting me to him snap. It didn't hurt. It was just... silence.

It took me two days to recover enough to walk without stumbling. I spent those days barricaded in the guest room, locked away, consuming nothing but tap water and stale protein bars I had stashed in my bag.

The fever had incinerated the last of my delusions. The cold of the pool had frozen my heart into something solid, jagged, and sharp.

I wasn't a daughter. I wasn't a fiancée. I was a loose end.

On the third morning, I dressed in a nondescript grey suit. I applied heavy makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes and the deathly pale tint of my skin.

I drove to the US Consulate.

The meeting had been arranged through encrypted channels months ago—a fail-safe I had hoped never to use. But the Moretti family had powerful connections, and I was finally calling in a favor.

The consular officer handed me a thick envelope. Inside was a passport. The photo was mine, but the name was different.

*Elena Moretti.*

"It’s done," the officer said, his voice low. "Your flight is scheduled for Friday night. The extraction team will meet you at the hangar."

"Thank you," I said, tucking the envelope into my inner jacket pocket. It sat against my ribs like a second heart, beating with the promise of freedom.

I drove back to the estate. As I approached the gates, a convoy of black SUVs passed me, heading out. Luca’s convoy.

I tensed, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Through the tinted window of the lead car, I saw his profile. He was looking at his phone, frowning. He didn't even glance at my car.

He didn't care where I had been. He was so arrogant, so sure of his ownership over me, that the idea of me leaving didn't even register as a possibility in his mind.

That night, Luca returned home unexpectedly.

I was in the kitchen, drinking tea, staring at the blank wall.

"Where were you today?" he asked, tossing his keys on the counter. The metal clattered loudly in the silence. "The tracker on your car showed you went downtown."

"Forensic accounting seminar," I lied smoothly. The lie tasted sweet on my tongue. "Updating my certification."

He nodded, accepting it instantly. "Of course. Always working."

He walked over and stood behind me. His hands came up to rest on my shoulders. I forced myself not to flinch. His touch, once the only thing I craved, now felt like a brand.

"I missed you," he murmured, burying his face in my hair.

I froze. He missed me? After watching me drown for five hours?

"Let's watch a movie," he suggested, pulling away and heading to the living room. "Like old times. Before all this stress with Sofia."

I followed him like a ghost. We sat on the couch. He put on some action movie. He put his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

I sat there, rigid. Tears began to stream down my face, silent and hot.

I wasn't crying because I loved him. I was crying for the girl who used to love him. I was mourning her. She had died in that pool.

Luca glanced at me. He saw the tears. He sighed, checking his Rolex.

"You're so emotional lately, Elena. It’s exhausting."

He stood up, turning off the TV.

"By the way, tomorrow is Sofia's 'Welcome to the Family' gala. I need you to buy her a gift. Something expensive. Put it on your card; I’ll reimburse you."

He didn't wait for an answer. He walked toward the stairs.

"Make sure it’s wrapped nicely," he called back. "She likes shiny things."

I sat in the dark living room, the silence pressing in on me.

I would give her a gift, alright. I would give them all a gift.

I stood up and walked to my office. I opened the safe and took out the black ledger. The real one. Not the decoy I had shown Luca.

This was the gift. The ruin of the Russo empire, wrapped in numbers and ink.

I went upstairs, packing a single bag. I didn't need clothes. I didn't need jewelry.

I just needed to survive until Friday.