I took a drugged drink for Moretti, the Don I had loved for seven years.

He helped Bella, my frightened sister, to her feet first.

"Bella is fragile. I'll get her to the car."

"Iris, wait here. I'll come back for you soon."

My stomach burned like fire, but my fingers were turning cold.

I stood there frozen for a long moment before a bitter laugh slipped out.

It was the ninety-ninth time he had chosen Bella.

In college, I once waited for him in the library with a fever, expecting him to take me home.

Then Bella called and said her panic attack was back, so he told me to wait.

Years later, I entered the Valtieri family and became his underboss.

I balanced his books, negotiated his deals, took bullets for him.

He still believed I would always wait.

I bit my tongue and forced myself to stay clear-headed while I handled another round of probing from the rival family.

At one in the morning, Moretti still had not come back.

Bella's post appeared first.

In the photo, Moretti was making her a late-night meal.

That was when I understood.

This time, too, he would not come back for me.

And I no longer wanted to wait.

I opened my phone and bought a ticket to Sicily three days later.

Moretti, goodbye.

The wine in the banquet hall had gone cold.

The rival family men were still seated at the far end of the long table, watching me with thin smiles.

"Still no Moretti?"

"Looks like he really did forget his underboss here."

The burn in my stomach had not faded, but my mind was painfully clear.

I ignored the mockery in their voices and set my empty glass down.

"A man can fail to show up."

"Business still has to be finished."

"Gentlemen, let's talk."

For the next few hours, I forced myself through the drug haze and deflected every trap they had buried in the conversation.

Only after I saw off the last car did I brace one hand against the doorframe and let myself breathe.

By the time I returned to the manor, dawn had already begun to pale the sky.

I took off my coat, still heavy with the smell of alcohol, and sat alone at my desk.

The port ledger I had not finished was open in front of me.

One page was circled in red.

It marked the shipping window the rival family had been trying to confirm all night.

If I had collapsed at that table, the cargo would have been intercepted before sunrise.

Moretti would never know what I had stopped for him during the hours he promised to come back.

The security system in my room was still broken.

I had told him about it a month ago.

He said he would send someone after the port accounts were settled.

Bella's fireplace broke once.

He went there himself and had it replaced that same night.

I looked at the unfinished work on my screen and almost laughed.

That was what seven years as his underboss had trained into me.

Secure the room first.

Put myself last.

But not this time.

I opened the safe and took out several contact lists only the underboss was supposed to know.

I could not take them with me.

I could not leave them loose either.

Before I left, I had to return every piece of the family to the system.

My phone went dark, then lit up again.

No call from Moretti.

Only another message from Bella.

【Iris, you weren't angry later, were you? Moretti said you're always the sensible one.】

I did not answer.

I deleted the message and went back to the ledger.

Three days.

Three days until I left the Valtieri family.

The next morning, Moretti pushed open the study door while I was still sorting through the port books.

He had not changed out of last night's suit.

There were faint red veins in his eyes.

"Nothing happened last night, did it?"

He came to stand in front of me, his voice lower than usual.

"Bella was shaking in the car. I took her home and called a doctor. That's why I couldn't get back to the banquet hall."

Then he lifted a hand toward my forehead.

"Why do you look so pale?"

I tilted my head away.

"I'm fine."

Moretti frowned.

"I'll look into that drink."

"They dared to touch you at my banquet. I won't let that slide."

Once, those words would have softened me.

But I had waited until one in the morning for the man who said he would be right back.

His guilt was real.

So was his absence.

Moretti sat across from me, as if trying to ease the tension between us.

His phone lit up then.

On the screen was an emerald necklace from a private auction house, expensive enough that the price barely looked real.

He slid the phone toward me.

"What do you think of this for a birthday gift?"

My fingers stilled.

My birthday was the day after tomorrow.

For years, Bella and I had celebrated together.

Her name always came first on the cake.

Guests always wished her happy birthday first.

I rarely said anything.

Moretti always said Bella was younger and liked a little fuss.

So for one foolish second, I misunderstood.

I thought he had finally remembered that my birthday was coming too.

Then he muttered to himself.

"Would it be too much for Bella?"

I went still.

Then I let out a small, bitter laugh.

How stupid of me.

I looked up at him.

"Do you remember my birthday?"

Moretti paused.

"A few days after Bella's?"

The second he said it, he seemed to realize his mistake. Embarrassment flickered across his face.

"I prepared something for you too."

I did not ask what.

Truthfully, I had stopped expecting gifts from him long ago.

I only wanted to know whether I still had a date of my own in his mind, or whether I would always come after Bella.

Before the meeting, Bella walked in holding Moretti's arm.

She wore a white dress, her throat bare, as if she had already made room for the emerald necklace.

The elders took their seats.

I placed the port deal I had spent three months securing on the table.

Moretti read through the file.

Then he pushed it toward Bella.

"Put this route under her name."

The room went quiet.

Bella widened her eyes.

"But Iris worked on it for so long."

Moretti's tone stayed calm.

"She's the underboss. She doesn't need one more achievement."

"You need something to help you stand."

I sat at his right hand as the taste of last night's wine rose in my throat again.

Bella asked carefully,

"Iris won't be upset, will she?"

Moretti looked at me too.

There was no question in his eyes.

Only habit.

He knew I would nod.

So I did.

In the Valtieri family, the underboss did not embarrass the Don in front of the elders.

Even if that Don had just handed three months of my work to my sister with a few careless words.

That night, the port partner hosted dinner.

Bella was there at first.

After too much wine, the partner let his hand brush over hers.

Bella's eyes reddened immediately, and she stepped behind Moretti.

Moretti's expression cooled, but he did not start a war at the table.

He only called me over.

"Iris, you take the second half."

I looked at him.

"If she can't handle it, I can?"

Moretti frowned.

"I'll have men posted outside."

"Half an hour. I'll come back for you."

He sounded serious.

But I thought of the night before, when he had also promised to come back soon.

Once the private room emptied, the partner finally dropped the act.

"Moretti really does trust you, Miss Underboss."

He poured me a drink.

The rim of the glass clicked against the table.

I did not touch it.

Still, a few minutes later, my head began to sink.

There was a faint sweetness in the air.

I stood at once.

He blocked the door, his smile filthy and open.

"Why pretend to be sober?"

"Your Don left you here. We both know what that means."

My limbs were already going weak when I reached for my phone and called Moretti.

He answered quickly.

"Iris?"

I leaned against the wall. My voice shook so badly I barely recognized it.

"Moretti, it happened again."

"Come get me."

Something crashed on his end, like a chair knocked hard against the floor.

His voice went ice-cold.

"How dare they?"

"Where are you? I'm coming now."

For one brief second, warmth rose in my chest.

This time, at least, he was not making me wait.

Then Bella cried out on the other end.

"Moretti, I can't breathe. My medicine. I need my medicine."

Moretti's breathing changed at once.

I held the phone and could almost hear the struggle in his silence.

"Iris."

His voice dropped.

"I need to take Bella to the hospital first."

"I'll send Luca for you."

The warmth that had just risen in me went cold.

So it was the same after all.

As long as Bella needed him, I could always be handed to someone else.

The call ended.

Footsteps approached behind me.

I bit my tongue hard.

Blood filled my mouth, and the pain gave me just enough strength to move.

I grabbed the bottle on the table, smashed it toward him, and ran for the hallway while he dodged.

When Luca arrived with men, I was already curled in the corner of the elevator, my palms slick with cold sweat.

When I returned to the manor, Moretti still was not back.

Bella's message came first.

【Iris, are you all right? That man wouldn't really have touched you. Are you still mad that Moretti took me to the hospital first?】

I did not reply.

Near dawn, Moretti finally returned.

His face was dark.

"Bella said you were emotional tonight."

I lifted my eyes.

"What else did she say?"

Moretti was silent for a moment.

"She said you've been upset because I took her to the hospital first."

"Iris, I know you were wronged."

"But you know how serious her panic attacks are. She's your sister. You can't possibly be jealous of her."

I could not even laugh.

When I first met Moretti, he was not New York's youngest Don.

Back then, he was only an heir the Valtieri family did not believe in.

I was the one who fought through the worst ports with him until he stood where he stood today.

When the elders tried to corner him, I stayed up all night combing through ledgers until I found the flaw that saved him.

When he was ambushed at the docks, I took a bullet for him, and the scar on my shoulder still aches.

He once held my hand and said,

"Iris, once I secure this seat, I won't let anyone wrong you again."

Then Bella came.

All she had to do was tear up, and the scales in his heart tipped toward her without hesitation.

This Moretti was no longer the man who had promised to protect me.

I went upstairs.

In my drawer, my resignation as underboss lay waiting.

I picked up a pen and signed the last line.