Chapter 2

Cassiel set the thermal jacket at my feet.

It was tailored to my measurements. The collar even had a soft windproof lining.

The day I left the compound, Mother had packed six suitcases for Viola—medicine, winter clothes, everything. Someone tossed me a worn-out windbreaker.

I'd assumed no one in the Moretti family even knew my size.

Cassiel crouched down and reached for the strap behind my neck, the one that had rubbed my skin raw.

"Don't move. The steel's fused into the wound."

His hands were gentle.

The first time I stepped through the doors of the Moretti compound, I tripped on the front steps.

Every underboss in the room was watching. Father's smile froze on his face.

Only Cassiel bent down, picked up my fallen shoe, and knelt in front of everyone to retie my laces.

He'd said the Moretti daughter would never have to wear broken shoes again. Never have to walk alone.

One month later, those same hands pressed my thumb onto the Council's transfer papers.

I pulled away from his touch.

"Let me see the confession first."

Cassiel's hand hung in the air, then slowly withdrew.

The confession was already written.

It stated that I deliberately set the fire at the Hall of Saint Oren. That no one else was involved.

That I'd framed Viola out of jealousy—jealous she had the Moretti family's love—and falsely accused her of meeting the Belrandi heir. Therefore, I voluntarily renounced my family membership and accepted a lifetime ban from Five Families territory.

"Sign it, and the Council will reduce the sentence from life to three years of supervised custody." Cassiel kept his voice low. "The Greybay warden owes the Morettis a favor. You won't have to work the mines. Once things blow over, I'll come get you myself."

I stared at the words deliberately set the fire.

"Change the arsonist's name to Viola."

"Elaia, if you put her name on this, the confession becomes worthless."

"Then write the truth." I pushed the tablet back. "The night of the fire, Viola and Nicolò Belrandi were in the archive room. I was never anywhere near the Hall."

Cassiel slammed his hand over the screen.

"You promised not to drag Viola into this."

"I already walked here in her place. I won't sign a statement saying I started that fire."

The room went silent.

He nudged the thermal jacket closer to me.

"You've already come this far. Why fight over one line? If Viola gets taken by the Council, the Moretti-Belrandi alliance collapses overnight. The ports go to war. Father loses the shipping lanes. Mother can't handle it. And I—"

He stopped.

"You're stronger than her. Just get through this. We won't actually abandon you."

The jacket sat right there at my feet.

All I had to do was sign. At least the last five miles wouldn't cost me another frozen toe.

Cassiel even promised he'd come back for me.

When he said it, he couldn't even look at the raw flesh on the back of my neck.

I almost believed him again.

Until the bodyguard outside called in.

"Sir, Miss Viola is waiting for news. She says once the confession is delivered, the Belrandi family will reinstate the engagement announcement."

Cassiel's face went dark.

"Get out."

After the bodyguard left, he added a line at the bottom of the confession and signed it with his own clearance.

In three years, Cassiel Moretti will personally retrieve Elaia.

"Is that enough?"

I looked at his electronic signature.

"Authenticate it with Don Vittorio's family seal ring."

"Father would never hand me his highest clearance."

"Then wait until he comes to confirm it in person."

Cassiel finally lost his patience.

"You won't be satisfied until you've dragged this entire family into a war?"

I pushed the thermal jacket back toward him.

"The one standing at the edge of a cliff is me. Not any of you back at the compound."

He stared at my split-open feet. His jaw clenched white.

He turned to leave, took two steps, then came back. He shoved the jacket into my backpack.

"Keep the coat. I'll ask about the confession again tomorrow."

Ronan opened the evidence case and set Viola's filed report on the table.

"Mr. Moretti, Miss Viola has reported that the detainee is planning an escape. Under the Council's Northern Line regulations, additional restraints are required tonight."

Cassiel glanced at me.

He started to raise his hand—like he wanted to argue on my behalf—but his fingers brushed the supplemental confession in his pocket, and he stopped.

"She refused to sign. We really can't afford not to take precautions."

Ronan frowned.

"Her feet are frostbitten."

Cassiel bent down, picked up the thermal jacket, and stuffed it back into my pack himself.

"Pad the lining thicker. Add the leg irons. She moves at dawn."

When the iron lock clicked shut around my ankle, I called his name.

"Cassiel."

He turned.

"Save your promises for God."

"Don't bother coming to get me."