So he turned his attention to me.

He deliberately let the other families discover my true identity as the Ferro heir, then rallied every crew, every capo, every soldier in the three tiers of the underworld under the banner of justice to pin me down. They called it a cleansing. They called it restoring order. What it was, was a hit sanctioned by every man who owed Aldric Valente a favor.

I was already pregnant by then. My body had weakened, and I had no strength left to fight back.

I begged him to spare me. Begged until my voice broke. But all he left me with was a single, weightless phrase: The family cannot harbor what threatens it. Then he tore the Ferro Ledger from my hands, stripped me of every alliance, every debt, every ounce of leverage I had ever held, and put a bullet through the life I'd built.

Even Mietitore was snapped in half and ground under his heel.

It was the child in my womb who saved me.

He sacrificed his own life to keep my shattered body from giving out completely, his tiny heartbeat holding mine together just long enough.

After a long silence, I reformed into a physical body, but only that of a two-year-old child. A girl with no name, no family, no blood anyone would claim.

My heart was full of hatred. I knew I was no match for Aldric, yet I still set out on the road to the Commission's stronghold to take my revenge.

But my bones had barely knit and my leverage had yet to coalesce. I couldn't even fend off a street thug looking for an easy mark.

Just as a man with a knife was about to finish what Aldric had started, a pair of large hands scooped me into a warm embrace.

The old man whose eyes already creased with wrinkles looked down at me, heartache plain on his face. "How's a little thing like you out here all alone with nobody looking after you?"

"Don't be scared, sweetheart. This old man will keep you safe."

I assumed his kindness was a passing impulse. I never imagined he would go on protecting me for years.

The year I pieced Mietitore back together, I was nine. I reforged the broken blade myself, heating the steel over a gas burner in the back of Massimo's shop, working the metal with hands too small for the hammer. Tore found me there at three in the morning and said nothing. He simply sat down, took the hammer from me, and held the blade steady while I shaped it.

I planned to make one last trip to the Commission's stronghold and drag Aldric down with me, even if it killed us both.

But the night before I meant to leave, my master brought me a beggar's chicken. It wasn't particularly good.

He had no idea I was planning to go. He just scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, and said, "Nara, you haven't been eating well lately. You're getting too thin. I went all the way across town to learn this recipe from a famous cook on Mulberry Street."

"Go on, try it. If it's no good, I'll go back and learn again."

"And if you like it, I'll make it for you every single day."

I blinked, caught off guard. Suspicion crept in before I could stop it. "Why are you so good to me?"

My master stroked his chin and smiled. "Because I think of you as my own daughter."

"If my little girl starved, what kind of father would I be? I'd be heartbroken."

"I'm already old. I don't want to spend whatever years I have left crying my eyes out."

In that moment, looking at the white hairs that had grown in from worrying over me, I felt the walls around my heart crack for the first time in years.

So there was someone in this world who loved me after all.

All at once, I didn't want revenge anymore.

I buried Mietitore beneath the fig tree in the courtyard and buried all my hatred along with it.

But Aldric shattered my hard-won peace with his own hands, all over again, and dug my hatred back up from the roots.

I lifted my gaze toward the balcony where his voice had come from and spoke, each word deliberate and distinct. "Aldric. It's been a long time."

Before the last syllable faded, the heavy doors of the Commission chamber swung open.

In the space of a breath, Aldric Valente descended the marble stairs with Elara Abbiati on his arm.

He looked exactly the same as before. That face, carved clean and cold enough to ruin empires, hadn't aged a single day. The suit was different. The ring on his left hand was not. I knew that ring. I had placed it there myself.

The woman cradled against him glowed with the same vitality.

Aldric looked me up and down, his brow furrowing. "I have never laid eyes on you. What do you mean, 'a long time'?"

Oh. I had almost forgotten. After my body reformed, my appearance had changed completely.

No wonder he didn't recognize me.

But my attention wasn't on him. Every ounce of it was fixed on Elara, and I had no patience to spare for Aldric.

I stared at Elara, unblinking. "You're looking well. Rosy cheeks, bright eyes. My master's bones must be serving you nicely."

Back then, the Ferro Ledger had only granted Elara passage in and out of the Valente compound, a guest pass to the world she craved. Without the Original Oaths, she still could not be elevated. She could attend, but she could not rule.

Aldric had once considered taking my own leverage instead, but the full weight of the Ferro dynasty's accumulated debts and blood oaths was far more than a civilian woman like Elara could wield. The network would have crushed her. He'd been forced to abandon the idea.

It had taken him all these years of searching to finally find my master's Original Oaths, the perfect instrument for Elara's ascension. A neutral elder's custody documents, clean enough for her hands, powerful enough to legitimize her permanently.

My words landed, and understanding dawned across Aldric's face.

"Ah, so it's the Castellano old man's little protégée. I was wondering who had the nerve."

"I understand you're grieving, but there's no need to forge a fake blade and impersonate the Ferro heir just to cause a scene."

He waved his hand with casual dismissal, his tone edged with impatience. "Enough. Considering your filial devotion, I'll let today's antics slide."

"Toss that counterfeit stiletto into the furnace."

"Then go find Capo Yunhe, pick whatever post catches your fancy in the organization, and stay out of trouble from now on."

With that, Aldric wrapped his arm around Elara's shoulders and turned to leave.

I reached out and locked my fingers around Elara's wrist. My voice was ice. "What's the rush?"

"I don't want your post. I want you to return my master's bones and sinews."

"Then come back with me and keep him company in his grave."

Both Aldric and Elara froze.

Rosalia was the first to recover.

Eager to prove herself, she charged over and slapped me across the face, snarling, "Nara, you ungrateful wretch!"

"The Boss lets you off and you push your luck?!"

"Apologize to the Boss and his wife this instant, or I'll deal with you myself!"

She flipped her hair over her left shoulder as the last word left her mouth, already coiling for something crueler.

I looked at Rosalia, cold and unblinking, and let my voice drop lower.

"Senior Sister. Everyone who has ever laid a hand on me is dead. My husband is the only exception."

Rosalia's brow furrowed. She spat, "Nara, have you lost your mind?"

"You've never even been betrothed. Where did this 'husband' come from?"

"That's enough. Apologize now and stop this lunatic act!"

But before the last word left her lips, Rosalia crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. The bones in all four of her limbs snapped at once, twisting her arms and legs at grotesque angles.

The soldiers flanking the corridor stiffened. Not one of them moved. The sound of it — four wet, percussive cracks in rapid succession — hung in the marble hallway like an echo that refused to die.

She stared up at me in horror. "Nara, what kind of trick is this?"

"Let me go! You're crippling a made woman in front of the Boss himself. Do you have a death wish?!"

I didn't spare her another glance. My grip tightened on Elara's wrist, and my voice stayed flat. "Are you going to pull the Original Oaths out yourself and hand them over, or do you need me to do it for you?"

Elara's face went white as parchment. Her hand drifted to the hollow of her throat, fingers closing around the pendant that hung there — the one that had belonged to me in another life. She turned instinctively to Aldric for help.

Only then did Aldric snap out of his stupor.

His expression hardened. Killing intent flooded his gaze.

"Girl. Crippling someone without lifting a finger. Your reach is impressive, I'll grant you that."

"But no matter how convincing the act, you are not the Ferro heir."

"You don't have the power to face me."

"So I'll give you two choices. End your own life, or wait for me to put you so far in the ground no one will ever find you."

I looked at Aldric with something close to pity, and let every syllable land.

"Husband. You've already buried me once."

"Do you really think it would work a second time?"