Chapter 3

When the moment came for the new associate's daughter to address the gathering,

Bianca stepped forward into the center of the courtyard, the microphone in her manicured hand, her gaze sharp and piercing as it landed on me like the tip of a stiletto.

"Today," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "my words are about self-respect. About what a woman owes to her own name. And now, I'd like the Family to witness something."

The moment her words fell, my scream tore through the courtyard.

On the tall screen mounted along the old stone wall, paid for by Salvatore himself as a gift to the neighborhood, the footage began to play.

It was that recording. The one that should have stayed buried, the one that should never have seen the light of day.

My naked body lay on a filthy bed, writhing under the lash of three long whips.

Welts and bite marks littered my skin.

Blood seeped into the once-clean sheets, turning them into a sickening shade of red.

Pain surged again, not from my body but from my soul, as if a thousand insects crawled beneath my skin, gnawing away.

Before I could even react, a harsh slap struck my cheek.

A woman beside me pointed at my face, shrieking, "How dare a creature like you sit among honest wives? You shameless whore! It's revolting!"

Another hand yanked my hair, dragging me from my chair and throwing me to the ground.

Voices thundered above me, raining down curses like stones.

"Your father was a made man! He gave up everything, took the disgrace, and let them break him because of filth like this! Your mother died with his memory denied a proper burial! And you? You still have the audacity to breathe? You should have been buried beside them!"

"You slut! A disgrace to every bloodline in this territory! You deserved every second of that torture!"

I curled up, numb, as fists and feet landed again and again.

Compared to the night the recording was made, this was nothing.

Then Bianca stumbled forward, her hand pressing flat to her belly, her voice trembling with false concern.

"Adriana, I... I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. Someone must have switched the reel..."

She reached to shield me from the blows, muttering apology after apology.

But in her tear-glossed eyes, pride sparkled like glass shards.

She wasn't sorry.

She was victorious.

As a daughter of the Marchetti bloodline, no one would question her. No one in this territory would dare.

A commotion behind me.

Salvatore came through the crowd, panic written across his face as he pulled me into his arms. The men nearest him stepped back, heads dipping, the way soldiers move when the Don moves.

"Adriana! Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to stay at the house? It's over now, I'm here..."

His performance was perfect.

If I hadn't heard everything with my own ears, in that car, through the walls,

I might've believed him again.

Might've melted into that familiar, deceiving embrace.

But the shaming staged before the whole neighborhood shattered me all over again.

My mind broke. I screamed at the sight of any man who came near. I thrashed, cried, cowered from invisible terrors.

Salvatore held me tightly, tears streaking his face, his voice raw with heartbreak.

But even his sorrow felt like a lie.

Eventually a needle slid into my arm, and I was carried away in an ambulance.

When I opened my eyes, everything was dark. The bitter smell of antiseptic stung my nose.

I understood I was still in the hospital, my wrists and ankles restrained tightly to the bed. Beyond the door of the ward, muffled voices floated in.

Salvatore's voice.

"Bianca. Are you satisfied now that Adriana is like this?"

Another voice, low and sweet. Bianca.

"Of course. Nico courted her for eight years. I had to be certain there was nothing left between them, nothing that could come back on us. If I hadn't done this, who knows what might've happened?"

She sighed.

"It's hard on you too, living under the same roof with a woman like her. It sits wrong with me every time I think of it. But because of the two Families, because of what our blood demands, we can't have each other in this life. In the next, I'll repay you. Whatever it costs. Even if I have to come back as your horse or your ox."

Through the fogged glass of the door, I watched them laugh and lean into each other.