Chapter 2

I stood frozen, and the truth of it landed in my chest like a knife between the ribs. This was the night before the initiation trial.

I pinched myself. It hurt. Tears fell instantly.

I had really been reborn.

The laughter around me faded. The young hopefuls who had just mocked me now fell silent, the way a room of made men goes quiet when the Don crosses the threshold.

"Did we go too far? She's only doing this for our own good," someone murmured.

Bianca's eyes turned red as she choked out, "Adriana, I didn't know you hated me so much that you'd curse all of us to fail the trial. We're the Family's inner circle. How could we stumble just for celebrating my birthday?"

Lorenzo stepped up, shielding her the way a soldier plants himself in front of what the boss values, his eyes full of disdain.

"Don't worry," he sneered. "We're not like you. So scared of the trial you run to the toilet a dozen times, and then still fall short because of it."

"It's just the initiation. Naturals like us walk through it."

The crew burst into laughter.

I clenched my fists. My chest tightened.

During the placement trial in our second year, the pressure wrecked my stomach. I kept needing the bathroom, breaking my concentration again and again. I didn't clear the cut to be groomed with the inner circle.

After that trial, I hid in the storeroom behind the club, silently crying.

Back then, Lorenzo had found me. He gently wiped away my tears, concern written all over his face.

"I asked your mother's cook to make you some broth. I know you're hurting. But if you didn't do well this time, you'll do better next time. I'll help you catch up. We'll be made together, side by side."

I truly believed our quiet thing between us would lead to something beautiful.

Then Bianca came into the Russo fold. Everything changed.

I took a deep breath and relaxed my hands, my fingers grazing the little saint's medallion at my throat before they stilled.

Ignoring their laughter, I calmly packed my bag.

"You're right," I said quietly. "In that case, I hope you all have fun."

They were stunned. I didn't scream or weep the way they'd expected.

The laughter froze. The room was quiet.

Some of the young soldiers shrugged awkwardly and changed the subject, arguing over what to pour.

"The fruit wine's only three percent. No way that touches us before the trial."

I scoffed to myself.

That club's "fruit wine" could drop a grown enforcer with a single glass.

The Family's infirmary front had taken in more than a few of these young hopefuls, half-dead from poison, most of them from that same back room.

In my last life, I'd tried to stop them because of it.

In this one, I wouldn't waste my breath.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to go.

To my surprise, Lorenzo didn't look pleased. He frowned.

As I turned to leave, he suddenly seized my wrist.

"No. You're coming with us."

The room went still. Every eye turned.

"Why would she come?" someone asked in disbelief. "She'll poison the whole night."

Bianca chimed in softly, eyes wide, voice full of gentle concern.

"What if Adriana comes tonight and fails the trial tomorrow, then blames me? That would be so unfair."

Her tone was sweet, but her eyes betrayed her fear. And the hand not raised to her cheek had drawn into a fist at her side, white at the knuckle.

She was afraid I'd actually leave with Lorenzo.

If I were there, how could she pour enough wine into him to blame her condition on him?

Lorenzo scoffed.

"Don't forget who she is. Remember the feast day? The instructor forgot to set our drills, and she just had to go asking for the practice papers, then went down the line messaging every one of us, ruining the holiday."

The room went completely silent.

Several of them glanced at me with mixed expressions: disdain, irritation, discomfort.

I smiled bitterly at myself.

Those had been drills copied from an enemy Family's top grooming circle. The year before, half of what they contained had shown up in the real trial.

Our instructor had gone out of her way to bring them to us, to sharpen us.

I was afraid no one else would know, so I reached each of them one by one.

What I thought was duty, they saw as meddling.

What I thought was helping, they took as a nuisance.

I understood then how little they grasped, how easily they twisted a thing into its opposite.

This time, I wouldn't try to play the hero.

Let them drink.

Let them celebrate.

Let them meet the consequences they were so eager to invite.

I would choose myself.

This life, I would not spend it on people who never truly saw me.