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."