St. Mariah Church was packed. Black suits filled every pew.

I sat in the front row in a faded black mourning dress, my fingers locked tight around Natalia's small hand.

Her palm felt slick with cold sweat. Her other hand clutched my sleeve like a lifeline. She kept darting glances around the church, all nerves and wide eyes, like a startled animal bracing for a blow.

The church doors opened.

Giovanni entered and cradled Katrina as if she might shatter. She wore an off-white lace dress, with one hand resting lightly on her slightly rounded belly.

"Katrina's pregnant. She can't handle too much strain." Giovanni guided her into the empty seat beside me. His voice sounded soft, and indulgence filled his eyes. "Sorry to make you sit so long, sweetheart."

My stomach rolled. I dug my nails into my palm until the nausea eased.

Katrina spoke first. "Rina, Giovanni passed so suddenly. You're a woman alone now, with a child. That isn't easy."

Her tone stayed gentle, almost kind. "Leaving his money with you isn't safe. Why don't you let me keep it for now? When Natalia grows up, I'll return every cent to her."

I did not answer. My gaze stayed fixed on the portrait at the altar, as if her words had never reached me.

Giovanni followed smoothly. "Katrina's right. A widow guarding money with a child only invites trouble. Worse, it could bring problems to the family. Hand it over. It's for your own good."

For my own good? That money was the only way out for Natalia and me, our only road forward. And he dared to reach for it in the open.

Something snapped.

I lifted my head. "Giovanni is dead. His estate belongs to me and Natalia."

My voice rang through the church. "You're his brother. If you won't protect a widow and a child, fine. But standing over a corpse and grabbing what he left behind?"

I sneered, "Do you have no shame at all? Or are you not afraid he'll come looking for you at night to collect what you stole?"

Giovanni's face hardened. "Watch your mouth."

"Am I wrong?" I laughed coldly and stood. I turned and walked toward the corner of the church.

Several battered wooden crates stood stacked there. I had hidden them ahead of time. I dragged out the bottom one and flipped the lid open.

Inside lay Giovanni's initiation certificate, fragments of his smuggling ledgers, and the token he had once given me when we were young, a cheap silver ring.

"This is what your brother left me." I seized the certificate and stepped toward the fireplace.

Flames licked along the paper's edge. "If you don't want it, fine. It's useless anyway. I might as well burn it and let it follow him."

The paper hissed as it curled and blackened. I fed the ledger scraps into the fire, then the silver ring. The flames leaped higher and painted my face in flickering light.

My voice broke just enough to sound real. "When he was alive, none of you remembered his worth. He's barely cold, and you're already fighting over what he left behind…"

"Rina! Don't you dare!" Giovanni roared and lunged forward.

A white-haired elder, Alessandro Lo Russo, raised one hand and stopped him cold. He stood as one of the family's old pillars. His glance at Giovanni felt icy and final.

Giovanni froze. The color drained from his face as he watched the last proof tying him to the name Giovanni burn down to ash.

I watched the fire die and leave nothing but black dust.

Relief washed through me.

Without those records, Giovanni could never truly be Giovanni again. He would exist only as Marco, the insignificant twin who had never touched the family's inner circle.

The identity he had stolen with such care had just become his prison.

After the funeral, Natalia tugged at my sleeve. Her voice dropped to a whisper, sharp with a child's instincts. "Mama, when Uncle Marco touched his nose just now, it was exactly like Papa. And the way he talks, too. It feels the same."

My chest tightened. I crouched and wrapped her in my arms, pressing my mouth to her ear.

My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. "That's because they were twins, sweetheart. Papa's already in heaven. He won't be coming back. From now on, I will do everything I can to protect you."

She nodded without fully understanding and buried her face against me.

I looked up. Across the crowd, my eyes met Giovanni's. He stood at the church doors with his black suit collar loosened. The mask was gone. Naked hatred stared back at me. It was dark and poisonous, waiting to strike.

After the funeral, I went straight to Don Vincenzo Angelis' estate.

Cigar smoke hung low in his study and settled in heavy layers. He leaned back on a leather sofa and tapped one finger against the desk in a slow, measured rhythm.

"Sit, Rina." He tipped his chin. "What happened to Giovanni has already been handled by the family. The consigliere will deliver compensation. It will be enough for you and Natalia to live on."

I did not sit. I kept my back straight, and my fingers turned white as I clenched them together. "Don Angelis, I do not want compensation."

His brows rose a fraction, and surprise flashed across his face. "Oh? Then what do you want?"

"A job." I met his gaze without flinching. "I can keep books. I can handle paperwork. I can run errands with the shipping crews if needed. I want to support Natalia myself. I do not want to rely on the Rossini family anymore. I do not want to survive by reading other people's faces."

"Women do not belong out front," he said evenly as he raised his whiskey and took a sip. "A Rossini widow should live quietly and raise her child."

"I am only asking for the chance to earn my own living." My voice stayed level. "I will not cause trouble for the family. I will do whatever I am told, clean and careful."

He studied me in silence. Smoke curled between us and obscured his expression.

At last, he nodded once. "You are tougher than the rumors suggest. Ventusa's shipping branch needs a bookkeeper. You will go there, far from the mess here."

He paused. "The paperwork removing your status as a Rossini family dependent will arrive tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Don Angelis." I bowed deeply, and the weight on my chest eased a little.

As I left the estate, the Soldati near the alley lowered their heads when they saw me.

For now, Giovanni's widowhood still served as a shield.

I hurried back to the Rossini house, my thoughts fixed on Natalia. I wanted only to pack our things and take her as far from this place as possible.

The front door creaked open. Darkness filled the courtyard, and a weak yellow light glowed from the living room.

I rushed inside and froze. A small figure lay curled against the wall.

Natalia clutched a tiny olive knife and struggled to peel olives into a basin. Swollen, raw blisters covered her hands. Some had burst and left faint streaks of blood. She flinched when I touched her.

"Natalia!" I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms.

"Mama!" She collapsed against me and sobbed, her voice hoarse and broken. "Grandma said I'm useless. She said if I don't work, I don't get to eat. I peeled for so long. My hands hurt. Mama, I'm so hungry."

Rage shot up my spine.

"Who told you to do this?" I snapped and looked toward the doorway.

Antonietta stepped out with her hands on her hips. She spat on the floor and sneered, "What's the problem? I made her do a little work. If you eat Rossini food, you earn it. Useless thing. She peels olives and still complains. Born trash, just like her mother."

"She's five years old." My voice shook as I stood and held Natalia tight. "She's Giovanni's daughter, not your servant. We're moving out today. We will not take another bite from this house."

"Moving out?" Antonietta laughed sharply and blocked the door. "You think a widow with a dead-weight child can survive out there? You'll be dead in a gutter within days."

Katrina stepped forward, one hand pressed to her lower back. A satisfied smile rested on her face.

"I'm carrying the Rossini future. This house will need people to serve it." Her eyes slid over me. "You can stay and take care of me. I'll make sure you and the girl get fed."

Giovanni followed her into the room.

"My mother is old. She can't be upset. Katrina is pregnant and needs rest." His tone turned calculating. "You stay and handle the housework. I won't treat you badly. At least you and Natalia won't starve."

"I don't need your charity." I turned and carried Natalia toward the bedroom. "The Rossini table means nothing to us."

At dawn, before the sky fully lightened, I led Natalia out the door. Two train tickets to Ventusa rested in my hand. I had arranged everything overnight.

Once we boarded that train, we would be free. We would have a clean break and a new life.

We reached the mouth of the alley. A shadow lunged forward and blocked our path.

Giovanni stood there in a black suit. His hair lay in disarray, and his eyes were bloodshot and wild. He had not slept. His gaze locked onto the tickets in my hand like a starving animal sighting meat.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"It has nothing to do with you, Marco." I used his given name on purpose, grinding the truth into him. "Giovanni is dead. I am no longer part of the Rossini family. Where I go is my business. You do not get to point fingers."

"Your business?" Giovanni scoffed. He lunged forward and ripped the train tickets from my hand.

Paper tore with a sharp, final sound.

"What are you doing?" I lashed out without thinking. My palm cracked across his face. "You monster."

His cheek flushed red at once. He stared at me as if he had never been touched, as if the very idea offended him.

"You dared to hit me?" he barked.

"So what if I did?" I lifted my chin. "You tore up our tickets. You cut off the only way out for me and Natalia. Consider it mercy that I did not kill you."

That was when Katrina appeared. She took in the scene and rushed forward, clawing at my clothes. Her voice rose, shrill and hysterical. "You slut! Stealing my man right in front of me? I am pregnant. Are you trying to kill me?"

I twisted aside and dodged her hands. I raised my voice so the entire alley could hear. "Marco tore up my tickets. He is trapping us here. He wants to keep me and my daughter where you can do whatever you like to us."

"Who would believe you?" Katrina screamed.

Then she slipped. She fell hard and clutched her stomach as she hit the ground.

"Ah! My baby!" she screamed as if she were being murdered. "Rina, you pushed me! You are trying to kill my child, you vicious bitch!"

Antonietta charged out like a bull. Rage burned across her face.

"You cursed thing!" she roared. "You killed my son, and now you want to hurt my grandchild? I will beat you to death!"

She lunged and yanked the travel bag from my shoulder.

The strap tore. Everything spilled onto the ground. Clothes, Natalia's toys, and the bundle of cash I had hidden deep inside.

Antonietta's eyes locked onto the money. Her fury twisted into naked greed. She scooped it up and stuffed it into her apron pocket.

"So that is why you are so bold," she sneered. "Hiding money, are you? This is my son's. You thief. How dare you steal his inheritance?"

"That is ours!" I scrambled forward. "That money is for me and Natalia. It is how we survive!"

She shoved me hard. I went down fast. My forehead slammed into the stone. White flashed across my vision. Something warm slid down my skin.

Natalia threw herself over me and sobbed. "Do not hit Mama! That is our money! Uncle Marco tore our tickets so we could not leave! He is bad. He is a bad man!"

Giovanni stepped closer slowly with an ugly smile.

"Rina, be good," he said softly. "Stay and serve Katrina. I will pretend none of this happened."

His hand reached toward my hair. "Otherwise, I do not mind letting you and Natalia experience—"

I shut my eyes. Was this happening again?

Heavy, disciplined footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley.

Engines idled, and car doors opened. A calm, lethal voice cut through the chaos and asked, "Who dares mistreat Giovanni's widow?"