Four Parting Gifts, Don Falcone

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took a bullet. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again. Chapter 1 When I found out my secret husband, Don Vittorio, was sleeping with my best friend, Carina, I decided to leave him. I pushed open the door to his study, divorce papers clutched in my hand. Vittorio was there, gently polishing a Padparadscha sapphire. The tenderness in his eyes was a look he’d never once given me. It was hard to breathe. Vittorio was never the romantic type. Two years ago, at an auction, he’d mocked some tech billionaire for bidding on a diamond necklace for his wife. "Stones like this are assets," he'd scoffed. "A currency. But a gift for a woman? Pointless." Now, he was treating that stone like the most precious thing in the world. What really choked me was a memory. Carina’s latest Instagram post: Whoever gives me a Padparadscha sapphire, I’ll marry him without a second thought. It was a punch to the gut. Three years. He’d never bought me so much as a cheap trinket. I’d even bought our wedding rings myself. In secret. Seeing me, Vittorio stood up, placing the gem gently on a velvet cloth. "About three months ago..." Vittorio finally turned to me, his tone infuriatingly casual. "I didn't know how bad it was. Carina... she's fragile. She was crying. I panicked." My fingers started to tremble. "Besides, you always handle yourself," he added with a shrug. "You're tough. A girl from the slums is used to a little blood." The slums. The bitterness was a taste in my mouth. What if he knew I was a princess of the Rossi family, the oldest outfit in Chicago? What if he knew the status, the safety, the honor I gave up for him? Would he still talk to me like this? But he would never know. He never cared about my past, my feelings, or anything about me. He believed what I told him because I wasn't worth the effort to learn more. "Hey, check out this design." Vittorio pushed a sketch in front of me, his voice full of pride. "I’ve been working with a jeweler. This is his masterpiece." I looked down. The world went silent. To my sweetest Carina. Her name was written in elegant script at the top. Every letter mocked my foolishness. So this is what love looked like. Careful. Full of anticipation. He even had to approve the design himself. And me? In three years, he couldn't even remember my birthday. A splitting pain shot through my head. The aftershocks from the gunshot. I stumbled back, lost my balance, and slammed hard against the corner of the desk. The barely-healed wound on my side ripped open. A sharp, searing pain made my face go white. "Dammit!" Vittorio took a step toward me, a flash of real panic in his eyes. But his gaze was immediately drawn to the design sketch sliding off the desk. He spun around and snatched it from the air just before it hit the floor. He checked it frantically, then let out a long breath. "Thank God, it's fine..." Only after placing the sketch safely back on the desk did he turn to me, his brow furrowed. His voice was impatient, covering his brief moment of panic. "Why can't you be more careful? You knocked over my coffee." I just stood there, watching him, feeling my heart die piece by piece. Blood was seeping from my wound, staining the rug. But he was worried about a piece of paper. This was the man I gave up everything for. "Sign it." I pulled a stack of papers from my folder and put them in front of him. On top were urgent shipping approvals for the docks. Vittorio frowned, as if he finally sensed something was wrong. "That gunshot was pretty bad. You can take a break. You don't have to focus so much on family business." His words sounded like concern, but they were cold. Like a routine question to a wounded soldier. He bent down to look at the papers, but his phone rang. Cara Mia. The name on the screen twisted the knife in my heart. I knew my contact name in his phone. "Consigliere." Cold. Professional. Nothing personal. "Vittorio?" Carina's soft voice purred through the phone, a playful tremor in it. "When are you coming over? I want you to see me try on the necklace..." "Soon, baby. I'm on my way." Vittorio's voice was so gentle it was like honey. He listened, absently flipping through the stack of documents. He saw my familiar handwriting, the usual formatting. Without a second thought, he scrawled his signature at the bottom of each page. Including the divorce papers I'd slipped in the middle. "I won't be home for dinner tonight," he said, finishing the last signature and heading for the door. He paused at the doorway, looking back at me, still standing there. He sounded annoyed. "Is there anything else?" "No," I heard myself say, my voice hollow, like an echo. "From now on... there will be nothing else." Vittorio frowned, clearly thinking I was being strange. "Fine. While you're in here, organize my files. The classified ledgers. You're the only one I trust with them." The door clicked shut. I stood alone in the empty room, listening to the sound of my own heart breaking. That was the only time I felt "special." When I was handling his secrets. What a pathetic kind of special. I walked to his safe and entered the combination. My fingers trembled, but I forced myself to be steady. Inside, there was supposed to be a photo of us, taken in secret after we got married. A drunken night when I’d found the courage to ask him to keep it here. I thought it would secure a place in his heart. I thought one day, he would love me. But the photo was gone. In its place was a solo picture of Carina. She was in a white dress, smiling like an angel. Like the eternal light of his life. I found our photo shoved in a dark corner, the edges bent and yellowed. Three years of marriage, tossed in a corner. I tore the photo in two, then into pieces. The scraps fluttered down, like the shattered pieces of my heart. Back in my bedroom, I dialed an encrypted number. "I never thought the little princess of the Rossi family would call me herself." On the other end, Don Orion's voice was low and dangerous, but I could hear the concern underneath. "What happened?" I looked at myself in the mirror. Bloodstains bloomed like dark flowers on my white shirt. My face was as pale as a ghost. "You once told me you wanted to marry me, Orion. My divorce is final in thirty days. The offer is yours." Chapter 2 The line went silent. I could hear muffled voices in Orion's office, the scrape of a chair. He was clearly in a meeting. My call had interrupted something important. "Meeting's over," Orion’s voice cut through, low and commanding. "Everyone out." Footsteps faded. A door closed. Now, it was just the two of us. "Three years, Aurelia," Orion's voice went ice-cold. "Three years since you made an enemy of the Morettis to protect that bastard. And now you call? You only remember my name when the world is burning down around you?" I closed my eyes, the memories flooding back. We grew up together. Orion was always trailing behind me, a loyal knight protecting his princess. He even turned down Harvard Business School to follow me to the same university. But all I wanted then was to escape my family, to escape a fate that had already been written for me. I fell for Vittorio, the man who made my heart race. The night we graduated, Orion confessed his love. "Aurelia, marry me. You know it's all I've ever wanted... I'm willing to—" But I cut him off. I was ruthless. "I will never marry you, Orion. Never." I heard he drank himself blind that night. They said he walked the streets of Chicago until the sun came up. "Yes," I admitted quietly, my voice flat. "I'm in trouble." "Ha," Orion scoffed. "The Rossi princess finally admits she picked the wrong man?" "I gambled on a stray and thought he was a king," I said, my voice hollow. "I was wrong." The line was quiet for a few seconds. I could feel his shock. His… hurt? "But…" I continued, a wave of exhaustion hitting me. "If you're not interested, just forget I said anything. The marriage proposal was just a crazy idea." I moved to hang up. "Don't you dare hang up on me," Orion's voice snapped, an order that left no room for argument. "Re-open our secure channels. All of them. Now." I froze. "Send me your location. In a month, I'll come get you myself." His voice softened, but the threat was still there. "Aurelia. You don't get to back out. Not this time." He hung up. I sat on the edge of the bed, the phone slipping from my fingers. I went to my vanity and opened the bottom drawer. Inside were the secret photos I'd taken of Vittorio, and the journals I'd filled while I was in love with him. Three years of one-sided love, three years of wishful thinking. I took them all out and walked into the garden. Flames ate the pictures, ate my foolish words. The orange glow was a funeral pyre for the girl I used to be. "What are you burning?" Vittorio's voice came from behind me. I didn't turn around. "Some old letters." "What kind of letters need to be burned?" He stepped closer, trying to see what was in the fire. Just then, a woman's crying voice cut through the air. "Vittorio!" Carina cried, rushing toward us with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I'm so sorry! It was an accident!" Vittorio immediately forgot about me and rushed to Carina. "What happened?" "I... I accidentally bumped into that painting," Carina sobbed, pointing to the stairwell. "The red wine spilled on it. It stained Aurelia's face. I really didn't mean to!" My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I painted that portrait myself. It took me three months. Since Vittorio refused to take wedding photos, it was the only way I could capture a memory of us together. It was the only thing in the entire house that proved our marriage was real. "The painting... it's in such an awkward spot," Carina sobbed. "I tripped, and the wine... My ankle is already swelling." I wanted to defend the painting, to say it had been there for three years without a problem. But Vittorio was already lifting Carina into his arms. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just a painting," he murmured, pulling her close. "Forget the painting. Is your ankle alright? We'll get a doctor." He turned to one of his men standing nearby. "Burn it," he ordered the guard, his voice pure ice. "It's in the way." Chapter 3 The flames ate my painting. Three months of work, three years of proof, turned to ash. I stood there, watching the orange fire lick the canvas, consuming the image of us holding each other. My heart ached with a dull pain, but I didn't cry. I knew this was how it would be. This was always Vittorio’s choice. "Aurelia..." Vittorio said, pausing as he carried Carina past me. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," my voice was so calm it surprised me. "Carina's ankle is more important." He stared at me, clearly not expecting me to be so quiet. "By the way, since Carina's back from Europe, she should stay here for a while," I said, turning to face them. "I'll put her in the guest room next to yours. I'll move downstairs." In Vittorio's arms, Carina lifted her head. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes before it was replaced by gratitude. "Aurelia, you're so kind... I won't stay long. I'll move out as soon as I find a place." Vittorio stared at me, his expression complicated. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure." I turned and walked downstairs. I heard Carina's hushed voice behind me. "Vittorio, I don't think Aurelia is happy..." "She'll understand," Vittorio's voice sounded tired. An hour later, I was packing in the small downstairs room when the door opened. Vittorio stood in the doorway, his face a grim mask. "Enough with the act, Aurelia," he finally said. "If you're jealous, just say it. Stop torturing yourself with this martyr routine." I kept folding my clothes, not stopping. "I know you hate sleeping alone," his voice softened, laced with a flicker of guilt. "You don't have to do this. We're still married, Aurelia. This is still your room." My hands paused. It was true. For three years, Vittorio had given me the respect a wife deserved. He'd climb into my bed after a drunken night and wake me with kisses full of what felt like love. In those moments, I thought we could last forever. But the second Carina appeared, I was always second choice. "I'm sorry about the painting," Vittorio said, stepping closer, reaching to hug me. "I was in a hurry. I wasn't thinking about your feelings." I sidestepped his embrace. "I'm not jealous, Vittorio," I said softly. "I just think I need a break. Especially after getting shot. It's time to hand off some of my duties." Vittorio's face went cold. "Suit yourself." He turned to leave, then remembered something. "By the way, what were those documents you had me sign this afternoon?" A small smile touched my lips. "Just a small gift. For our third anniversary." Vittorio’s expression softened. He came over and stroked my cheek. "Bella," he murmured. "I know her being here is hard on you. But you are my wife. A good wife. I won't let you down." His voice was gentle, but I heard what he really meant. Carina was temporary. Once he settled his debt to her, he would make it up to me. Too bad I didn't want any of it anymore. "I understand," I nodded. Vittorio let out a breath of relief, kissed my forehead, and left the room. It was midnight when I was violently dragged out of bed. Vittorio’s face was a storm cloud, his anger simmering with murder. "Get upstairs. Now." He dragged me up the stairs and threw open the door to his bedroom. On the bed, Carina was flushed, breathing heavily. Her hair was stuck to her sweaty skin, her eyes were hazy, and her body was trembling uncontrollably. When she saw us, she curled into a ball like a frightened deer. "Vittorio... I feel so strange... so hot..." her voice was a breathy whisper, laced with a desperate, animal need. Vittorio turned to me, his eyes blazing. "What did you give her to drink?" "I didn't give her anything," I answered calmly. "She's the one who wanted to open that bottle of Romanée-Conti. I drank some too. Why am I fine?" "Because this is your specialty, isn't it?" Vittorio snarled, grabbing my shoulders. "Dirty little tricks. It's how you ended up in my bed in the first place!" Those words were a knife, straight to my heart. I remembered that night three years ago. I got intel that someone was going to make a move on Vittorio at a private casino. I couldn't reach my men. I couldn't reach him. No one knew the panic I felt as I raced there, only to find him drugged with an aphrodisiac. In his desperation, I gave myself to him. I cried when he entered me. I don't know if it was because my dream had come true, or because I was terrified of what would come next. I never imagined he'd wake up and look at me with so much hate. Just like now. He always believed I was the one who set it all up. That he was the victim. "Vittorio, please don't blame her..." Carina said weakly, but her body writhed, a soft moan escaping her lips. She suddenly grabbed a lighter from the nightstand, her hand shaking as she flicked it on. "I can't take this feeling..." she sobbed, holding the flickering flame to her own skin. "I won't be a burden... I won't let you sacrifice your honor for me..." The smell of burning skin filled the room. Carina screamed in pain, but her eyes held a twisted look of relief. "Carina!" Vittorio lunged, snatching the lighter away. He stared at the red, angry mark on her arm, and his face hardened with decision. "I'll help you." Chapter 4 "She did this to you," Vittorio said, his voice dangerously low. "As her husband, it's my debt to pay." His words hit me like lightning. He was really going to "help" Carina? I couldn't believe it. The man I loved, the man I called my husband, was saying something so degrading, so humiliating. My voice trembled. "So you think I drugged her... just to watch you fuck her?" "Enough!" Vittorio roared. "Don't use that filthy language!" On the bed, Carina reached out a trembling hand and touched Vittorio's chest. His body tensed at her touch. "Vittorio... please don't... I can't let you betray your family," Carina's voice was weak but seductive. "You should go... I can get through this alone..." Her fingers trailed down his chest. Vittorio's breathing grew ragged. "No. I'm not leaving you," Vittorio said, grabbing her hand, his eyes full of pity. "This is her fault. She should face the consequences." Carina pretended to push him away, but her body instinctively moved closer. "Aurelia... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to take Vittorio from you... but I feel so awful..." While she apologized, she guided Vittorio's hand to her own hot skin. Something in my head snapped. I couldn't believe they were doing this, in my home, shaming me so openly. "Enough, Carina Romano!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Stop the act! You destroy my home, you seduce my husband, and now you stage this whole show to get him into your bed! How disgusting can you be?" The second the words left my mouth, Vittorio exploded. Crack. The sound of the slap echoed in the room. My left cheek burned, and I could taste blood. "How dare you say that about Carina!" Vittorio grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "She's kind. She never says a bad word about you! But you, you've been nothing but hostile!" "So all that understanding you showed today was an act!" His eyes were full of disappointment and disgust. Carina sobbed on the bed. "Vittorio, don't blame Aurelia... It's my fault... I shouldn't have come back..." Vittorio turned and gently stroked her face. "No. You're not the one who's wrong." He pulled a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand drawer and looked at me, his eyes cold. "You love these little drug games so much," he hissed. "Fine. You can listen to me help Carina with her 'problem.'" He dragged me downstairs and cuffed my wrist to the iron gate of the wine cellar. Cold metal bit into my skin. The pain was a brutal, clarifying shock. "Vittorio, you can't do this to me!" I struggled, but the cuffs only tightened. "Listen," he said, his voice trembling with a rage he couldn't control. "You brought this on yourself, Aurelia. Now you get to hear the consequences of your 'masterpiece.'" He turned and went back upstairs without a second glance. The door slammed shut. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face. Soon, I heard Carina's muffled moans from upstairs. I tried to block it out, but I couldn't even cover my ears. "Vittorio... please, be gentle..." "I know. Just hold on." Then came the rhythmic creak of the headboard, and her moans growing louder, bolder. "Ah... Vittorio... right there... harder..." Every sound was a knife in my heart. I curled up on the cold floor, the world spinning. The old gunshot wound began to ache, and a vicious cramp seized my abdomen. But my heart hurt the most, like it was being ripped to shreds. The sounds from upstairs went on all night. Vittorio's heavy breathing, Carina's breathless cries, their shouts as they came. I shivered on the floor, my clothes soaked with cold sweat. A vicious cramp seized my abdomen. Then I felt it. A slow, warm trickle of blood down my thigh. A weak sob escaped my lips, but it was drowned out by the noise from above. By dawn, everything was quiet. I had no more tears left. I was just curled up in a pool of my own blood, like a dying animal. Footsteps on the stairs. Vittorio opened the cellar door. He started to say something mocking, but his face froze when he saw me. "Aurelia?!" His voice was filled with a panic I'd never heard before. He rushed over, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the cuffs. "Jesus Christ, you're bleeding so much..." I lifted my head and used all my strength to look at him. "Let go of me..." I collapsed. The fever made everything blurry. He scooped me up, his hands touching my cold, wet clothes. He roared, "I'm taking you to the hospital!" Just then, Carina's voice drifted down from the bedroom, thick with lazy satisfaction. "Vittorio... you were too rough. I don't think I can walk..." "Besides," she added, her voice full of fake concern, "if you take Aurelia to the family hospital, everyone will know about us. It'll be bad for the family's reputation." Vittorio's arms tightened around me, then went still. I could feel him fighting with himself. He looked at my pale face, his eyes filled with pain and guilt. But in the end, he turned to the guard at the door, his voice a low growl. "Get a street doc. The back-alley clinic. Now." In the end, he chose to hide his affair with Carina over saving my life. The bleeding seemed to stop. I couldn't hold on any longer. I sank into darkness. A few hours later, I woke up in a small, dingy clinic. It wasn't one of ours. The doctor was a middle-aged woman with a grim face. "You were pregnant," she said, her face grim. "About three months along. Between the blood loss and the trauma... you lost it." Tears rolled silently down my cheeks. Did it hurt? I felt numb. "We need to do a D&C as soon as possible, or it could affect your ability to have children in the future." I closed my eyes. "Do it." Better to get it over with. Since I couldn't keep the child, it was time to end everything. As the cold surgical instrument entered my body, the last of my love for Vittorio seemed to drain away. All I wanted now was to escape this hell. After the surgery, I lay in the hospital bed, took out my encrypted phone, and sent a new message to Orion with a trembling hand. [A month is too long. I need you in three days. Get me out.] Chapter 5 My phone lit up instantly. Orion's reply was immediate: [Done. Three days. I'll be there.] I finally let out a breath. At least someone was willing to get me out of this hell. I stayed in the clinic for three days. In those three days, Vittorio never called. Not once. He finally showed up on the day I was discharged. "Sorry I'm late," Vittorio said, pushing the door open, his face tired. "Carina's been emotional. She needed me." I looked at him, feeling nothing but irony. Three days ago, he was having sex with another woman in front of me. Now he was acting like nothing happened. "Aurelia, about that night..." Vittorio came closer, reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you." I pulled my hand away. "It's fine," my voice was as still as dead water. "It's over." Vittorio frowned. "I know you're still angry, but you have to believe me. It's you I care about. Carina is just..." "Just what?" I stared at him coldly. "The one you were willing to 'detox' with your own body?" Vittorio's face changed. "That was different. I had no choice..." "Enough," I said, standing up and grabbing my bag. "Let's go." Vittorio wanted to say more, but the doctor came in. "Mr. Falcone, about your wife's procedure, there are a few things you need to..." "Doctor," I cut her off. "I'll take the medicine I need to. Don't worry about it." The doctor looked from me to Vittorio, then said nothing more. Back at the villa, Vittorio took a family call in the driveway. I walked inside alone. The first thing I saw was Carina, sitting on the living room sofa, a glass of red wine in her hand. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," Carina drawled, looking up from her wine glass, a smirk playing on her lips. "Finished with your little pity party?" I stared at her and said nothing. "Vittorio was so worried you were gone for three days," Carina said, getting up and walking gracefully toward me. "But he was more worried about whether I was traumatized by that night." She stopped in front of me, her voice suddenly cold and sinister. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You want to know a secret, Aurelia? I was the one who drugged Vittorio that night." My body went rigid. "I even sent you that message on purpose, telling you he was in danger at the casino," Carina smiled like a demon. "I wanted you to go to him. I wanted you to give yourself to him when he was at his weakest." "Why?" My voice trembled. "Because I knew he could never love you," she purred, her eyes glinting with pure venom. "I wanted him shackled to a woman who would always be second best. A constant reminder of the guilt he felt for letting me go." The room started to spin. "Now I'm back, Aurelia," Carina caressed my cheek. "It's time for you to leave. Don't make me say it again." Rage boiled in my chest like lava. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and threw it in her face. I got in her face, my voice a low snarl. "Listen to me, Carina Romano. As long as I am the woman with his ring and his name, you will be nothing more than the whore he fucks in the shadows." Carina froze for a second, then laughed. She looked toward the front door, then immediately dropped to her knees, sobbing into her hands. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come back!" She cried, tears streaming down her face. "Aurelia, I really didn't mean to ruin your marriage!" I turned. Vittorio was standing in the doorway. His face was dark. "Aurelia!" Vittorio rushed past me, pushing me aside to help Carina up. "Are you crazy?" I stumbled back and hit the wall. The wound on my back throbbed with a fresh wave of pain. "Carina, are you okay?" Vittorio gently wiped the whiskey from her face. "I'm fine..." Carina sobbed. "Aurelia's right. I shouldn't have come back and disturbed your lives." "Nonsense," Vittorio said, holding her. "You're not the one who's wrong." He turned to me, his eyes full of fire. "Apologize to Carina. Now." "Why should I apologize?" I sneered. "Did I say something that wasn't true?" "Aurelia, that's enough!" Vittorio stood up, towering over me. "Carina already forgave you for drugging her. What more tricks are you trying to pull?" Tears streamed down my face. "So in your mind, I'm that evil?" My voice choked. "All these years we've been together, isn't that enough for you to trust me?" Vittorio's expression was pained. He clenched his fists. He seemed to be struggling with himself. But in the end, his voice was cold. "I only trust what I see and what I feel." I was completely hopeless. I wiped my tears, lifted my chin, and smiled with pride. "Then I'm sorry, Vittorio. I refuse to apologize," I said, each word deliberate. "Because you two are the ones who are wrong. Not me." Vittorio's face twisted with rage. The last traces of guilt were gone. "Fine," he said, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. "Marco, bring a few men over." Soon, several men in black suits walked in. "Family law," Vittorio said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Thirteen lashes." Carina pretended to plead for me. "Vittorio, let it go, don't hurt Aurelia..." A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Thirteen lashes. The Falcone family's signature punishment. Reserved for traitors and rats. He was really going to do this to me. I straightened my back and met his gaze, my head held high. "Vittorio. You lay one hand on me, and you will spend the rest of your life regretting it." Chapter 6 Vittorio stared at me, his eyes empty of any warmth. "Do it." Before I could react, a rough rope was wrapped around my wrists, and I was dragged to the backyard. "Vittorio!" I struggled. "You'll regret this!" But he had already turned away, holding Carina as he walked back inside, never looking back. The whip cracked. The first lash split the skin on my back open. I bit down on my lip, hard, tasting blood. I refused to scream. The second lash landed. Then the third. Blood ran down my back, soaking my white shirt. By the tenth lash, I was numb. After the thirteenth, my back was a shredded mess of flesh and blood. My legs gave out. I collapsed in a pool of my own making. Right before I passed out, I saw Carina standing at a window on the second floor, a triumphant smile on her face. She had won. Three days later, the sharp ring of my phone woke me. I struggled to sit up, my back screaming in protest. "Aurelia?" Orion's voice was worried. "Are you okay? I couldn't reach you for three days." "I'm fine," my voice was hoarse. "I'll be at the rendezvous point in three hours," Orion's tone became gentle. "Are you ready?" "Yeah." I hung up and forced myself to the closet. I only needed to take one thing. I picked up the antique dagger from my vanity, the only memento I had from the Rossi family. Everything else could stay in this hell. My phone rang. "Aurelia!" It was Luca, my protégé. He was practically screaming into the phone. "That bitch Carina—she tanked the port authority deal! Fifty million dollars, gone! She went in as a 'temporary consultant' and burned the whole thing to the ground!" I remembered when I first joined the family. I mixed up the location of one dock deal, and Vittorio yelled at me all night. Now Carina had blown a much bigger deal, and Vittorio had nothing to say. "What did the Don say?" I asked, not really caring. "He said it's fine, we can always make more money," Luca's voice was full of disbelief. "Miss Aurelia, you have to come back and take charge! The family can't survive without you!" "Sorry, Luca," I said calmly. "The Falcone family is no longer my concern." "What?!" Luca yelled. "You can't—" I hung up. Immediately, a few of the family's old guard started calling. "Aurelia, what the hell is this?" Old man Matteo roared through the phone. "The family is a mess and you're playing games?" "I quit," I said flatly. "You quit? You think this is a game?" another elder took the phone. "Get your ass back here and clean up this mess! Now!" "If you've got a problem, take it to your Don," I sneered. "Don't pull that tough-guy shit with me. I'm not the one you should be afraid of." I hung up on them, one by one, then blocked every number associated with the Falcone family. Finally, I walked to Vittorio's study and opened his safe. I took out a blank SIM card and copied all the evidence onto it. The proof of my miscarriage. The security footage from the villa. The audio file of Carina's confession. And the divorce papers he signed with his own hand. I put the SIM card back in the safe with the other documents and locked it. These were my parting gifts for Vittorio. Four of them. One day, he would open this safe. And on that day, he would know exactly what he had lost. I was about to leave when my phone buzzed again. Vittorio's name on the screen. I glanced at it and blocked the number. But then the texts started flooding in. All from him. [Aurelia, Carina messed up the port authority deal. Get back here and fix it.] [I know you're mad, but the family needs you.] [Answer me!] [Aurelia, stop being childish.] I deleted every single one. Then I blocked his number. An hour later, I was at the rendezvous point. A private jet sat on the runway. A tall figure stood beside it. Orion stood there in a flawless black suit. In his hand, he held a single, perfect black rose. It was crafted from velvet, a flower that could never wilt or die. He saw me and slowly looked up. He stepped forward, his dark green eyes locking onto mine. "Aurelia," he said, his voice a low, soothing balm. "I'm here to take you home."