We were ambushed—me, my fiancé Cole Griffin, a few of his family's Made Men, and a woman named Bianca Carden.

It happened at an estate deep in the Alps during a secret transaction. The firefight erupted without warning, and I took a bullet for Cole.

The estate was completely cut off by a blizzard; not just the roads, but the signal tower had collapsed under the weight of the snow. And my wound was festering at an alarming rate.

Late at night, I awoke from a raging fever, my body ice-cold to the touch. Shivering, I reached for the first-aid kit, only to find the last of the life-saving, high-potency antibiotics gone. In its place were a few cheap painkillers.

Bianca was nestled in a warm cashmere blanket, completely unscathed, while Cole whispered reassurances to her, clutching the vial of medicine that was supposed to be mine.

I propped myself against the wall and dragged my numb leg toward them, my voice hoarse. "My medicine. Why does she have it?"

He pulled me aside, his eyes cold. "Keep your voice down. Bianca's family is crucial to our alliance. You're a Valeriano; act like one. Don't be so fragile."

I pointed to the wound on my leg, which was starting to turn black. "So because her family is 'crucial,' I'm supposed to rot and die here for the sake of your alliance?"

His brow furrowed. "Cassandra, don't be unreasonable. It's one vial of antibiotics. Try to see the bigger picture."

I laughed, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. This was the man I had loved for three years, the future Don of the Griffin Family.

I didn't say another word. I just crawled back to my corner, grabbed the encrypted satellite phone, and dialed the number I had sworn I would never use again—my brother, Zander, the Don of the Valeriano Family.

"Zander, come get me. The coordinates are… Bring the Cerberus Unit. And remember: other than me, kill everyone."

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1

Before long, the wind outside began to howl like a banshee.

Cole burst in and snatched the encrypted satellite phone from my hand, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You contacted the outside?" he roared. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Our entire alliance could be ruined! I've bet the Griffin Family's future on this deal!"

He didn't even glance at me—didn't see my fever-flushed face or my uncontrollable shivering.

"Are you trying to ruin me?" he yelled. "Make me a laughingstock? Let the whole world know Cole Griffin can't even control his own fiancée?"

He grabbed me, slamming my weakened body against the cold stone wall and shattering the last of my warmth.

I curled up, trying to dull the searing pain from my wound. My voice was faint, but it held the unyielding pride of a Valeriano. "The storm is getting worse. We could be trapped here and die at any moment. This place isn't safe anymore. I'm infected. What's wrong with calling for help?"

Before Cole could answer, Bianca, who was lying on the sofa, lifted her head. Her voice was as delicate as silk, but her eyes held a needle-like sharpness. "No offense, Cassandra, but aren't you the one who's been trained since childhood? You can't handle one little injury without crying for help?"

She sighed softly, toying with the medicine vial in her hand. "If word of this gets out, the Griffin Family will be a laughingstock. They'll say we can't even protect one woman and need outsiders to bail us out."

"And you know how important this alliance is to Cole. This is the last step before he takes over as Don. Do you really want to destroy his future?"

"Are you really going to fall apart over something so small? Or does his future mean nothing to you?"

Her voice was sickly sweet, but every word was a poisoned dagger aimed at the heart of Cole's pride.

Cole's men, the same Soldatos who were supposedly here to "witness his success," all turned on me.

"Cassandra, you're being too selfish, only thinking of yourself."

"Exactly. We're a family. Cole is doing this for all of us. You're trained; your body is tougher than Bianca's."

The cold burned my lungs, but their words were colder still.

I ripped off the makeshift bandage, revealing my wound, which had turned black and was beginning to ooze pus.

"Are you all blind? My wound is festering. Do you still think I'm exaggerating?"

An unnerving silence fell over the room. Only Bianca remained composed, even covering her nose in disgust.

"So what if it's getting worse?" Cole's voice went cold, all pretense gone. "Is the future of our family supposed to die with you?"

Cole took a step closer, his expression a mask of disgust and calculation.

"Why is it that no one else has a problem, but you're the one who gets infected? You just love being the center of attention, don't you? Insisting on jumping out to take a bullet for me, just so I'd owe you. And now that something's gone wrong, you're blaming us?"

I wanted to argue—that I was protecting him, that his men were too slow—but the fever had drained all my strength.

My body was shutting down. The world was spinning, my vision blurring.

If I hadn't called Zander in time, I would have died here—silently consumed by the infection, just another nameless skeleton under the foundation of the estate.

I thought Cole would at least order the estate to be fortified to wait out the storm.

But instead, he yelled, "Pack your things! We're evacuating through the secret tunnel while the blizzard covers our tracks. We can't let anyone see us in this pathetic state, and they certainly can't find out Bianca was here."

I swayed, forcing myself to stand, my vision blackening. "Are you insane? Now?"

That cold sneer returned to his face. "I'm the future Don. I make the decisions. I won't let a selfish woman ruin my future."

His eyes were manic, blinded by his lust for power.

"You're in a hurry to leave, fine. But I'm seriously injured. I can't move. I'll wait for rescue."

Before he could speak, Bianca shrieked, "No!"

She glared at me viciously, then turned to the others. "Cole, if we leave her here, she'll tell everyone about the antibiotic. If we want to wash our hands of this, we have to take her with us. If she dies on the way… we'll just say it was the severity of her injuries, or that she was hallucinating and wandered off on her own."

The rest of the Soldatos, swayed by Cole and Bianca's false narrative of "family interests," nodded like sheep.

I stared at Cole's cold expression, my heart sinking bit by bit.

But I made one last appeal. "Cole, this is the third time I've taken a bullet for you."

"Remember the docks in Chicago? You were ambushed, and I was the one who dragged you out of the line of fire, stopped the bleeding, and stayed with you until the Consigliere arrived with backup. You cried then, clinging to my hand like I was your savior, and you swore you would never betray me."

"I know I'm nothing to you now… but please, for the sake of what we had, just let me live."

For a fleeting moment, a flicker of guilt crossed Cole's eyes. He almost looked human again.

Then Bianca pinched his arm and hissed in his ear, "Don't go soft. The Valeriano Family won't let us off. If we leave her here and she survives, you're finished. All she has to do is tell the truth, and your alliance with the Carden family is toast. Your father will strip you of your inheritance."

That last shred of his conscience vanished. He glared at me, his face a cold mask.

"Don't try to guilt me with the past. We have to move forward. You're the only one who knows the complete route through the tunnel. If you don't lead the way, we'll all die in this godforsaken place."

Bianca chimed in, "That's right. And don't even think about faking it, Cassandra."

Watching their pathetic performance, I knew appealing to the past was useless. It was time to play my last card.

"Don't push me. Zander Valeriano—he's not just my brother. He's the mad dog the entire underworld fears. If you dare lay a finger on me, he will wipe you and your family off the map."

Bianca laughed, a theatrical sound meant to hide the fear in her eyes. "Oh, please. You're invoking Don Valeriano just to get out of walking? You think he's your personal bodyguard? Not even God himself could fly in through a blizzard like this."

The others joined in the jeering, trying to mask their instinctual fear of that name with mockery.

"Yeah, right. Don Valeriano is going to risk his neck for one sister?"

Then, Cole slapped me—hard. The sharp crack echoed through the room.

"You're a disgrace," he snarled. "Don't you feel pathetic, lying like that? Say one more word, and I'll throw you in the cellar myself and leave you to rot."

He yanked my arm, as if to drag me out.

I knew they wouldn't back down—they wanted me to lead the way. Fine. I stopped arguing and made one last request.

"I'll go," I rasped, "but Bianca has to give me back my antibiotic. I'm infected… I won't make it otherwise."

"Shut up," Cole barked. "You're infected, which means you're a liability. Why should the most valuable medicine be wasted on you? Bianca is our future ally—she's far more important than you are."

He said it so casually, with a coldness that surpassed the blizzard outside.

I never thought the man who once swore to protect me would trade my life for another woman's without a second thought.

Cole had changed ever since Bianca Carden appeared by his side.

I thought he was just trying to secure a new ally. I mean, after everything we'd been through, we were engaged; he couldn't possibly throw it all away.

Right. How stupid of me. I shouldn't have believed in true love in the mafia. Outside of blood ties, everything is a transaction.

Seeing that I wasn't moving, Cole stormed over, hauled me up from the floor, and roughly shoved me toward the door.

"Don't think I won't do it myself. Get up. Lead the way."

With no other choice, I braced myself against the cold wall and forced my trembling legs to hold me.

Bianca walked over, feigning concern. "Let me help you, Cassandra."

Before I could refuse, her fingers dug viciously into my wound.

A wave of agony shot through me. My eyes burned with tears.

Instinctively, I shoved her away. "Get off me!"

She let out a dramatic shriek and fell to the floor, her eyes instantly welling up.

Cole didn't even blink—he gave me a hard shove, nearly sending me into the fireplace. "What is wrong with you? She was helping you! Why did you push her?"

Bianca interjected with a sickly sweet malevolence, "Don't blame Cassandra, Cole. She's probably just upset that I used her medicine. I don't mind her tantrums. As long as she can get us out of here safely, that's what's most important."

Her words hit their mark. Cole rushed over and slapped me twice more, hard.

"Don't think you can push Bianca around just because she's nice. You touch her again, and you'll see what happens."

My ears were ringing. My cheeks throbbed, already swollen and red.

But even that pain was nothing compared to the ache spreading through my chest.

I gave up trying to explain. In the world of the mafia, the weak have no voice.

"I can walk. I don't need her help."

Bianca gave me a look of feigned innocence. "It's not that you don't need help—you're just waiting for a chance to slip away, aren't you?"

Cole glared at me. "Don't try any tricks, Cassandra. If you slow us down, I'll make you pay."

Then he turned to a Soldato named Nico. "Nico, watch her. If she tries anything, break her other leg. If there's an 'accident' in the tunnel, we can always blame it on the storm and a cave-in."