To end the war between our families, I married the Don of the Caldwell family, Julian Caldwell.

The fire in his eyes when he took my hand convinced me he actually loved me.

Two years later, Julian betrayed our pact. I was forced to watch as he led his men in a bloody slaughter of my family, his eyes glinting with vengeful triumph.

"Cassie, when your father framed mine, did he ever show mercy? Did you really think you alone were enough to atone for a sea of blood?"

Julian ascended to the pinnacle of New York's underworld, and Vanessa Shaw, his new wife, stood by his side as his Donna.

I was imprisoned in the manor's cold, damp basement, a ghost barely clinging to life. If I so much as attempted suicide, Julian would retrieve my family's ashes and threaten to scatter them before my very eyes, his own eyes bloodshot as he snarled, "You don't get to die without my permission, Cassie!"

After that, I gave up all resistance.

Because years ago, during a shootout at the docks, I had found a dying Julian and brought him to an underground doctor. I had begged the doctor, trading one of my kidneys to save his life.

Now, the complications are finally devouring me. I have three days to live.

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1

For Vanessa Shaw's birthday party, Julian Caldwell granted me a rare reprieve from the basement.

I lifted my head and saw Vanessa on the platform above, her smile a slash of arrogance across her face. My heart felt like it was being methodically filleted.

"Bow to the Don and Donna!" a bodyguard snarled, shoving me so hard I stumbled. I fell to my knees, a marionette with cut strings.

Julian didn't allow me to rise. He merely gazed down at me, his indifference a physical blow. "The walk from the basement takes thirty minutes. Why were you two hours late? Unwilling to grace Vanessa's party with your presence?"

I offered no defense. The basement was a damp, wintry hell. Frostbite had long ago settled into my legs, turning the flesh necrotic. Every step was agony, like walking on shattered glass. I simply lowered my head and murmured an apology.

Julian seemed to flinch for a split second before a sarcastic sneer twisted his lips. "You're so much more obedient now, Cassie. Broken."

I was indeed broken. My last act of defiance earned me a night in a cage, where he had me whipped until I was slick with my own blood. The next day, with my back a canvas of open wounds, he summoned the best doctors to pump me full of expensive drugs, refusing to let me die.

"You should get up, Cassie. You were the beloved Principessa of the Argento family, after all. You shouldn't lower yourself to the role of a common servant, even if your family is gone," Vanessa purred, extending a hand as if to help me. Her words were honey-laced poison.

Vanessa's gaze suddenly dropped to Julian's arm, a flash of triumphant pride in her eyes. She linked her arm through his, showing off the tattoo to the crowd. "Look, everyone. Julian even altered the tattoo on his arm for me."

It had once been a silver lily, my family's crest. Now, a thorny vine was coiled around it, its thorns digging into the petals, forming a garish letter "V."

I risked a glance at Julian. His expression was icy and unreadable, a perfect mask hiding whatever he might be feeling.

That tattoo had been our engagement vow, one Julian had etched into his skin under the moonlight by the Hudson River.

He had told me it symbolized eternal protection, that he would guard me with his life.

It means nothing now, I told myself, stamping down the memory. I looked up, forcing a smile onto my face. "It's beautiful, Donna Vanessa. Congratulations."

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Julian's shoulders tense. I quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light.

Vanessa gestured for a maid to approach with a tray. "As a thank you for your blessing, Cassie," she said, gesturing to the drink, "you must finish this. Every last drop." She smiled sweetly, but a sharp, calculating glint flashed in her eyes.

Vanessa had been there, lurking outside the clinic when I had the surgery. She knew perfectly well that I only had one kidney. She knew this alcohol would poison me, causing irreversible damage. And still, she insisted.

Sensing my hesitation, Vanessa’s expression crumpled into a tearful mask. "If you refuse my gratitude, Cassie, then I can't possibly accept your blessing."

She was about to signal the maid away when Julian's hand stopped hers. "An offer of gratitude can't be rescinded," Julian said, his voice low. "You are my wife. Cassie owes you this blessing, and it will be sincere. You're simply taking what's yours, Vanessa."

He then rounded on me, his gaze dripping with contempt. "How dare you disrespect Vanessa's kindness?" he snarled.

"Please, don't make this hard for me," the maid pleaded, hastily handing me the glass. "Just take it." But the moment my fingers brushed the crystal, she let go.

The scalding liquor splashed across my numb fingers, searing the cold skin and raising instant blisters. A cry of pain escaped me as the glass crashed to the floor, shattering.

Julian shot to his feet, a flicker of something—concern?—in his eyes as he instinctively moved closer.

But Vanessa was faster. She stepped in front of him, her face a mask of wounded innocence.

She clutched her chest dramatically. "Do you hate me that much, Cassie? I remember how well you used to hold your liquor. This whiskey… it was a rare vintage my father left me. The only bottle in the world."

"I wanted to share it with you, using my most cherished crystal glass, and you smashed it."

I stared in disbelief as the lies poured from her lips. Julian knew. He knew I was allergic to alcohol; in the past, a single sip would put me in bed for a week.

Clutching my blistering hand, I looked at him. The flicker of concern was gone, replaced by a glacial cold. "You spit on Vanessa's generosity, Cassie!"

He barked an order. "Bring me a full bottle!"

I knew what it was: the Caldwell family's private reserve. It was a punishingly strong spirit, far more than my broken body could ever handle, especially a potent single malt like that.

Julian's voice was ice. "Will you drink it on your own, or shall I have someone pour it down your throat?"

I thought of his methods, the endless, inventive cruelty. A bitter, pained smile touched my lips. "If I finish it… can I leave?"

Julian nodded, his face impassive. "Oh, I'll let you go," he replied with a cold smile. "Just consider this a small performance for the Donna's birthday."

I said nothing more. I lifted the heavy bottle and began to drink. Fire tore through my throat. My body convulsed with dry heaves, fighting to expel the poison.

I fought back the nausea, forcing the burning liquid down relentlessly.

The guests watched the spectacle unfold, their eyes fixed on me, while Julian's expression grew thunderous.

When the bottle was half-empty, he finally exploded. "That's enough! Are you doing this to make me pity you, Cassie?"

"I wouldn't dare," I rasped, lowering my head. The words had barely left my lips before I coughed, a spray of blood staining the floor.

Julian surged forward, but Vanessa’s voice stopped him. "Why are you doing this again, Cassie? I'll have the doctor check on you immediately! You're always getting sick so suddenly; we simply must find out why!"

Hearing her, Julian’s fleeting concern curdled into pure contempt. He gave a sarcastic laugh. "You're always pulling stunts like this, aren't you? Such a brilliant actress. If Vanessa hadn't pointed it out, I might have actually fallen for your act again."

A dense, searing pain suddenly ripped through my side. I collapsed, curling into a ball as my body trembled and blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

Before the darkness swallowed me, I saw the suspicion in Julian's eyes melt into raw, unadulterated terror. I heard his voice, a distant roar growing clearer. "You don't get to die without my permission, Cassie! You will live to atone!"

I would never finish atoning for him. I had only two days left.

When I awoke, the burns on my hand had been treated. I wasn't in the basement. I was in a clean, sterile-smelling room.

"So, you're finally awake," Julian said, his voice flat as he strode into the room. He gripped my chin and forced a bowl of incredibly bitter medicine down my throat. His rough handling made me choke, tears streaming down my face.

He sneered. "Don't give me that pathetic look, Cassie. You may not have pulled the trigger, but your father and your family committed the atrocity. You will bear the weight of their debt."

On the day he stormed our estate, he had slaughtered every core member of the Argento family. He hadn't even spared the child I had just conceived—his own flesh and blood. And yet, he let me live.

I never understood why—love or hate. I had long since concluded it was hate.

I wiped the dregs of medicine from my lips. Before I could speak, an excited voice called from the doorway. "Don Julian! We've just received confirmation—the Donna is pregnant! You must come quickly!"

Julian froze for a heartbeat, then shot up, his face alight with a joy I had never seen. "Vanessa… she's really pregnant?"

I stared at him, at the genuine happiness of a father-to-be blooming on the face of my tormentor.

A sharp pain pierced my chest. My body was failing faster.

That afternoon, the excited chatter of maids and guards carried every detail of Julian and Vanessa's celebration to my ears. He lined the winter paths with out-of-season roses and set off fireworks that felt like petty insults. He had even arranged a new surprise for her every five minutes.

I was fading quickly, my only wish to be left to die in peace. But Julian granted me permission to leave my room on one condition: I was to serve as Vanessa's personal attendant. He always knew the cruelest way to twist the knife.

In Vanessa's bedroom, I held a bowl of medicine, my face a blank mask. I scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her lips.

She didn't move, just stared at me with pure, undisguised hostility, her mask of civility stripped away. "You must hate me, Cassie."

Vanessa had been a street orphan. My father found her on the streets, a bullied, starving girl, and took her in while inspecting his territory. When our enemies came for us, she was the first to turn traitor.

The first time he locked me in the basement, she had visited me. "Your brother brought this on himself," she'd hissed. "He dared to reject me—as if he were too good for me. Since he shattered my heart, I decided to shatter his entire world. Your family deserved everything they got."

So that was it. A petty, rejected heart had brought down a dynasty.