“We’ve arranged a wedding for you with the mafia don of the Steel Serpent,” her father Carlo, underboss of Silver Bullets said, his voice heavy as he sat behind his grand desk.

Camilla’s breath caught in her throat. Of all the things she thought she’d hear today, this wasn’t on the list. "The Steel Serpent?" she repeated, her voice faltering.

She had heard the rumors—everyone had. Their boss, Colen Armand, was infamous for his cruelty. They said he killed with no mercy, as easily as one might swat a fly, and his appearance matched the fear he instilled. People whispered he was disfigured, an ugliness that ran as deep as his malice. No one knows his real identity yet everyone already feared just his name.

Carlo noticed her hesitation, guilt flickering in his eyes. He leaned forward, his tone softening. “Camilla, if you don’t want the marriage, I can speak to our Boss Victorio. Perhaps we can think of another way to handle this.”

Her stomach churned. “To handle what?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“To save our group,” Carlo admitted, the weight of his words sinking into the air between them. “The Steel Serpent is pressuring us. We’re on the brink of war, and we don’t have the manpower or resources to win. He requested a marriage alliance with Victorio’s daughter to settle the matter peacefully, but…” He hesitated, rubbing a hand over his face. “Victorio doesn’t have a daughter. Instead, he demanded you.”

Camilla stared at him, processing his words. Her life, her freedom, had been reduced to a bargaining chip in a dangerous game she had no control over. Yet, when she looked at her father, she saw the weariness etched into his features. She knew what this alliance meant. Without it, their family—and the entire Silver Bullets—would crumble.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, her decision clear. “Then prepare for the wedding.”

Carlo blinked, caught off guard. “Are you sure, Camilla? I can try—”

“There’s no other choice,” she said firmly. “If this will protect the family, then I’ll do it. You’d sacrifice a lot, Dad. If this is my way of helping, then be it.”

He studied her for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. “Alright. I’ll make the arrangements.” His voice was low, almost regretful.

Camilla straightened her shoulders, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. This wasn’t how she envisioned her life, but she had been born into the mafia. Sacrifice was in her blood. If marrying a man like Colen could prevent the war, then she would face him, no matter how ruthless he was rumored to be.

As Camilla left her father’s office, the thrum of music and chatter from the ballroom caught her attention. She paused briefly, recognizing the sound of Katie’s birthday celebration. The newly appointed lieutenant, who had joined their mafia group just last year, had managed to charm her way into everyone’s favor—especially Jackson and Ridge, the sons of their mafia boss Victorio and Camilla’s childhood friends.

Katie, standing at the center of the party in a stunning dress, spotted Camilla lingering near the door. With a bright smile, she waved her over. “Camilla! You made it!” she called out, her voice filled with cheerful enthusiasm.

Camilla hesitated. She wasn’t in the mood for a party, especially not one where Katie seemed to revel in the attention she used to share with Jackson and Ridge. “I’m just passing through,” she replied, offering a faint smile.

Katie wouldn’t let her go that easily. She approached with a glass of wine in hand. “Come on, it’s my birthday! At least have a drink with me,” she said, holding the glass out toward her.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Camilla said, shaking her head. “I really can’t stay.”

Katie tilted her head, her smile unwavering but a hint of something sharper flashing in her eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s just one drink. Or…” She paused, her tone playful but edged with something that almost sounded like a challenge. “…are you too busy for me now?”

Sighing, Camilla reached out to push the glass away, but Katie shifted suddenly. The wine tipped over, splashing onto her dress. Katie gasped dramatically, looking down at the dark red stain spreading across the fabric. “Oh no! My dress!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying just enough distress to draw the attention of the crowd.

Camilla froze. “I didn’t even touch you!”

Katie blinked at her, wide-eyed and innocent. “It was an accident, I’m sure. I mean… you didn’t mean to, right?” Her tone was light, but the hint of sarcasm beneath it made Camilla’s stomach twist.

Before Camilla could respond, Jackson and Ridge entered the room. Their eyes immediately went to Katie’s wine-stained dress, then to Camilla.

“What happened?” Jackson asked, his tone sharp as he approached.

Katie turned to them, looking both embarrassed and apologetic. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she said softly. “Camilla was just… I don’t know, upset maybe? She accidentally knocked the wine over. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Camilla’s eyes widened. “I didn’t do anything!” she said firmly. “She’s twisting—”

“Camilla, seriously?” Jackson snapped, cutting her off. “You couldn’t even let her have one nice moment?”

Ridge shook his head, his disappointment clear. “This isn’t like you.”

Katie let out a soft laugh, brushing at her dress. “Don’t be mad at her. It’s just wine. I’ll manage.”

Her words were kind on the surface, but the smug glint in her eyes as Jackson and Ridge glared at Camilla spoke volumes.

Camilla clenched her fists, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Arguing would only make things worse. Without another word, she turned and walked away, Katie’s light laughter echoing behind her.

As she left, memories of Jackson and Ridge crept in. They’d been her closest friends once—laughing, sparring, always by her side. Now, their loyalty belonged to Katie. It stung to realize she’d been replaced so easily, their history cast aside like it meant nothing.

The marriage her father arranged wasn’t just about saving their group anymore. It was a way out—for her. Staying meant enduring the pain of watching the people she trusted treat her like a stranger. At least this marriage would give her a fresh start.

She took a deep breath and kept walking, letting the noise of the party fade behind her.

Camilla shut her bedroom door, silencing the noise of Katie’s birthday celebration echoing from downstairs. She leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Her decision was final—she would go through with the arranged marriage to the mafia boss, no matter how ruthless or ugly he might be. Staying here felt impossible now.

Katie’s arrival had only made things worse. Once, this place had felt like home, and Jackson and Ridge had been her closest allies. Now, she was nothing more than a shadow in their lives, cast aside the moment Katie had stepped in. The thought stung, but Camilla refused to let herself dwell on it any longer.

She crossed the room, pulled out her suitcase, and began packing her belongings. One item after another disappeared into the bag—clothes, a few personal mementos, and the pieces of her old life she could still stand to look at. If she was leaving, she’d make sure it was for good.

As she zipped up her bag, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She hesitated before picking it up. The message was from Katie: “Look at us. We’re so happy.”

Attached was a photo of Katie smiling between Jackson and Ridge, their arms draped around her like she belonged there. She stared at the screen, her chest tightening with a mix of anger and hurt.

A second message followed almost immediately: “Oops, wrong person. Don’t mind it! But wish you were here with us!”

Camilla scoffed, tossing the phone aside. Wrong person? Katie’s smugness was obvious. Camilla clenched her jaw, trying to swallow the bitterness creeping up her throat. But something compelled her to open Katie’s social feed.

The images there made her even more hurt. Katie flaunted gifts from Jackson and Ridge. Jackson had given her a sleek silk dress, and Ridge a bracelet inlaid with gold and diamonds—bearing the group’s symbol, something only insiders ever received. Camilla stared at the photos, unable to stop herself. They laughed with Katie, surrounded her, doted on her.

Her childhood friends weren’t hers anymore. She’d been replaced completely, and for the first time, she truly felt it. It wasn’t anger she felt as much as an overwhelming sadness.

The next morning, after wrapping up her training and duties, Camilla returned to her room, the weight of the previous night still pressing on her. Her decision to leave was final, and there was no room for hesitation. As she resumed packing, she opened a drawer she had ignored for years. Inside were old photos and letters—remnants of her childhood with Jackson and Ridge.

She stared at them for a moment, memories flickering like a reel of bittersweet moments. But those days were gone, buried under betrayal and distance. She gathered the stack, walked out to the garden, and struck a match. The flames flickered to life, quickly devouring the pieces of her past.

The heat was still warm on her skin when Jackson’s voice cut through the silence. “What the hell are you doing?”

Camilla glanced up to see him and Ridge standing a few feet away, their expressions a mix of shock and anger.

“Burning old things,” she said simply, tossing the last letter into the fire.

Jackson’s jaw tightened. “Old things? What do you mean? You’re burning our photos, our letters!”

Camilla let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Exactly. Old things.”

Ridge stepped forward, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Camilla, why?”

She met their eyes, her voice steady but distant. “Because it’s time to let go.”

For a moment, her gaze flicked to the flames, and a memory surfaced—one she hadn’t allowed herself to revisit in years. She could still see the three of them as children, sitting under the old oak tree behind the family’s estate. Their laughter had echoed in the summer air as they made a promise, one sealed with clasped hands and naive determination.

“No secrets,” Jackson had said, his voice full of boyish confidence.

“No one will ever come between us,” Ridge added, grinning as if their words were absolute truth.

Camilla had nodded eagerly, her heart filled with trust and certainty. “We’ll always be together.”

But that promise belonged to another lifetime. Now, it felt like a cruel joke. The boys she had trusted with every part of herself were no longer the same. They were busy with Katie now, their loyalty shifted to someone who had effortlessly stepped into her place.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she forced herself back to the present. That promise was as much ash as the photos curling in the fire.

Jackson’s voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and accusing. “This isn’t like you, Camilla. You don’t just throw people away.”

Camilla turned to him, her frustration bubbling over. “Throw people away? You’re the ones who neglected me! You both replaced me the second she showed up.”

Jackson scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “If this is about Katie again, then you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Ridge nodded in agreement. “She hasn’t done anything to you, Camilla. Why are you always so bitter about her?”

Camilla let out a bitter laugh, shrugging as if their words didn’t sting. “You don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Jackson frowned, confusion replacing his anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I resigned,” she said flatly, meeting their startled gazes. “The job I fought tooth and nail for because no one wanted a woman in the intelligence group? It’s done. You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Ridge stepped forward, his voice tinged with concern. “Camilla, why would you—”

Before he could finish, Jackson’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting instantly. “It’s Katie,” he muttered, answering the call.

“Jackson,” Katie’s voice came through, laced with exaggerated pain. “I hurt myself during training. Can you come help? I think I twisted my ankle.”

Without hesitation, Jackson turned to Ridge. “We need to go.”

Ridge nodded, already moving. They both looked at Camilla briefly, as if expecting her to protest, but she just waved them off. “Go. She needs you.”

They left in a hurry, and Camilla watched them disappear without a second glance back at her. She stood there, the smoke from the fire curling lazily into the sky, her frustration giving way to quiet resignation.

She wondered, almost idly, what they’d think if they knew she was getting married. Would they even care? Would it matter to them that she was leaving for good?

On her way to Martin’s office, she passed the training grounds. Her steps faltered as she spotted Katie, seated on the edge of a bench, with Jackson and Ridge hovering over her. Jackson held her ankle, inspecting it, while Ridge handed her a bottle of water.

Katie caught sight of Camilla and smiled sweetly, a smug glint barely concealed in her expression. She raised a hand in a cheery wave, playing the part of innocent charm.

Camilla didn’t react, keeping her face blank as she looked away and kept walking.

Memories tugged at the edges of her mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Years ago, it had been her in that same spot. She could still feel the sting of a twisted ankle from a mistimed spar, Jackson and Ridge rushing to her side, their concern genuine. Back then, they had cared about her, protected her. The three of them had been inseparable—a team that promised to stick together through anything.

But time had passed, and things had changed. Promises faded, loyalties shifted, and now, she was just a shadow of what once was, watching from the sidelines as someone else took her place.

By the time she reached Martin’s office, the ache of old memories had settled deep, but she pushed it aside. Martin looked up from his desk, his usual calm presence grounding her.

In Martin’s office, Camilla sat across from him, steadying her nerves. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been like a father to me.”

Martin’s expression softened. “You’ve earned your place here, Camilla. I’ve seen you fight for it every step of the way, proving everyone wrong.” He leaned forward. “Do Jackson and Ridge know about your resignation—or the marriage?”

Camilla shook her head. “About the resignation, yes, but they didn’t care. And no, and I’d rather they didn’t know about the marriage. They’ve moved on. This is just how it has to be.”

Martin sighed, his gaze thoughtful. “You three used to be so close. Remember when Ridge set up that obstacle course? You fell in the mud, and Jackson laughed so hard he couldn’t even help you out.”

A small smile crossed her face. “I didn’t talk to them for a week after that.”

“They practically camped outside your door, begging you to forgive them,” Martin chuckled. Then his tone turned serious. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell them? At least say goodbye?”

Camilla’s smile faded. “It’s better this way. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“You know I always thought you’d marry one of them,” he said.

Camilla smiled a little. “I thought so, too, but I think we really don’t know what the future holds. Please, make sure they will not know… until I am gone here.”

Martin studied her for a moment before nodding. “I’ll respect your decision. As a token of appreciation, I’ve arranged for a crystal plaque to honor your service. It should be in your room by now.”

Camilla nodded, her voice quiet. “Thank you, Martin. For everything.”

She left his office, her thoughts swirling. As she approached her room, she froze. Katie stood there, holding the plaque, her fingers tracing the inscription.

“Nice gift,” Katie said, her voice sweet but to Camilla who could see behind those innocent facade of Katie, it felt like a mockery.