My breath hitched violently. My hand flew to my mouth, but it did nothing to stop the sob that tore out of me.

Then I saw the note.

Written in messy, childish handwriting.

"We told you to leave. Next time, it won't just be a photo."

My fingers curled tightly around the torn pieces, crushing them in my fist as my entire body shook uncontrollably.

Why?

Why this?

That picture… it was all I had left. Of my parents. Of my past. Of the life I used to have before everything fell apart.

I pressed the broken pieces against my chest, as if I could somehow hold them together, as if I could stop the pain from spreading any further.

Memories flooded in without warning.

Gianna climbing into my bed in the middle of the night when she had nightmares, her tiny hands clutching my sleeve. Matteo holding onto my fingers tightly when he stuttered in front of others, looking to me for reassurance. Lucia hiding behind me whenever she was scared, peeking out from my back like I was her shield.

All those nights I stayed awake for them.

All those tears I wiped away.

All those lullabies I sang until my voice went hoarse.

And yet…

Not once. Not even for a second. Did they ever see me as their mother.

And now… they wanted me gone. Like I had never mattered at all. Like I was nothing.

I forced myself to stand, my legs unsteady beneath me. I wiped my face roughly, smearing away the tears, and began to pack.

Only the essentials. My wallet. My phone. And my mother's old scarf.

At the very back of the closet, tucked away where I hadn't looked in years, I found a small velvet box. My heart clenched.

The bracelet. My mother's bracelet.

I opened it slowly, almost afraid of what I would find.

And then I saw it. Crushed. Broken clean in two.

Another piece of me… destroyed.

For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind blank, my heart too numb to even react properly. My left hand drifted to my bare wrist and pressed hard against the skin where the bracelet had sat for years, the emptiness there worse than any wound on my body.

Then, carefully, I picked up the broken bracelet and placed it into my bag.

No tears came this time. I had none left to give.

Downstairs, the celebration was already in full swing. Laughter echoed through the halls of the Montecarlo estate. Glasses clinked. Voices blended into a cheerful hum. I could hear soldiers and capos and their wives all performing their loyalty, the way they did at every gathering the Old Don hosted.

Enzo was down there too. Smiling. Talking. Playing his role perfectly. As if I had never existed.

I pulled my sleeves down tightly, trying to cover the angry red bites that still burned across my skin. My hand throbbed painfully, swollen and tender, but there was nothing I could do about it.

Taking a steadying breath, I opened the door and stepped out.

I heard them before I saw them. Lined up along the corridor like a receiving line of small, well-dressed judges. The hall sconces caught the silk of their clothes, the sheen of their hair, and the flatness behind their eyes.

"Wicked witch changed her dress," Gianna snickered.

"Doesn't fix her face," Nico added with a laugh, one shoulder lifting in that careless shrug.

"Shhh," Alessia said with a smirk. "She still has to play the piano. Let's not ruin Grandpa's party… yet."

Each word struck like a blade.

But I kept walking. Step by step. Face composed. Smile forced.

The grand room opened around me, heavy with cigar smoke and the low murmur of men who understood that the Old Don's birthday was as much a summit as a celebration. I sat down at the piano, my hands trembling as I placed them on the keys. The familiar melody began to flow, even as pain shot through my fingers with every movement. I had practiced this piece for weeks.

Now, I played it like a ghost.

All eyes were on me. I could feel them. The whispers. The curious stares. The quiet gasps at my appearance. Wives leaning toward each other. A soldier near the doorway shifting his weight, uncomfortable with something he couldn't name.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

When the final note faded into silence, I stood immediately and slipped away before anyone could approach me.

I needed air. I needed space. I needed to breathe.

And I needed Miso.

But before I could take more than a few steps into the garden, a voice stopped me.

"Seraphina."

I turned slowly, blinking back tears as I faced him. The only person in this house who had ever shown me even a fraction of kindness. He stood beneath the garden pergola, both hands resting on the silver head of his cane, watching me with eyes that had judged men for half a century and never once been fooled.

"Happy Birthday, Grandpa," I said softly.

He frowned deeply, his eyes scanning my face, taking in every bruise, every mark. "On my happiest day, you look the saddest. What happened?"

Before I could answer—

They appeared.

All six of them.

And Enzo.

My heart sank instantly.

Don Montecarlo's gaze shifted to them, sharp and questioning. "Did you attack Seraphina?"

Enzo sighed, already looking annoyed. "Seraphina, not tonight. I told you, we'd talk later."

The Old Don raised his hand, silencing him without even looking his way. "Kids?"

"It was just a prank," Nico said smoothly, without hesitation.

"Apologize," Don Montecarlo ordered firmly.

Gianna stepped forward, her expression shifting instantly into innocence, her eyes wide and soft. "We're sorry, Aunty Seraphina. We didn't mean it."

"Yeah, sorry," Matteo added quickly. "We even brought you a gift."

My body went rigid.

A gift.

Gianna held out a neatly wrapped red box, her smile sweet and harmless. "You'll love it," she said.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me not to take it.

Not to touch it.

But Enzo's gaze hardened, warning, pressuring. "They apologized, Seraphina. Don't be petty."

Don Montecarlo nodded gently. "Accept their apology. Children make mistakes."

My hands trembled as I reached out, slowly peeling back the ribbon. My breathing grew shallow, uneven.

The moment I lifted the lid—

The world tilted.

A scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it.

Inside the box—

Miso.

My puppy.

Lying completely still. Lifeless.

His soft white fur… soaked in red.

And beneath his small, fragile body—

Another note.

"You'll be next if you don't leave."

The box slipped from my hands, crashing to the ground.

Everything spun.

Enzo froze. Don Montecarlo murmured something in shock.

And the children…

They simply smirked.

Then turned away.

As if none of it mattered.

As if he had never mattered.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't see.

All I could see…

Was Miso's lifeless eyes staring back at me.

Don Montecarlo's cane slammed against the marble floor with a sharp, bone-rattling crack as he stepped forward, the sound echoing through the hall and silencing everything in an instant. Two soldiers by the far door straightened. A conversation across the room died mid-word.

"Who did this?" His voice carried no trace of weakness. It was cold, commanding, and filled with restrained fury.

No one answered.

The six children stood there with their heads lowered, shoulders tense, putting on the perfect act of innocence. Anyone else might have believed them.

But I saw it.

I saw Gianna's lips twitch slightly, the faintest hint of a cruel smile before she quickly hid it. Her chin tilted up and to the left, just barely, the same angle I'd seen when she delivered her worst words. Then she caught herself and let it drop.

Enzo looked pale, his composure cracking. "I… I didn't know. I swear."

Don Montecarlo turned to him slowly, his gaze cutting like a blade. "Do not swear, Enzo. Your ignorance is your shame."

I held Miso closer, his small body limp in my arms. His white fur was soaked red, sticky against my skin. My tears fell onto his face, but he did not move. He never would again. My left hand found my wrist, fingers pressing down hard against the bare skin where my mother's bracelet once sat, pressing until the pressure burned, until it was the only thing I could feel besides the grief.

"He was just a puppy," I whispered, my voice breaking apart. "He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't deserve this."

Don Montecarlo's cane struck the ground again, louder this time, filled with anger. He gripped the silver head with both hands and rested his chin on his knuckles, and the room went still in a way that had nothing to do with the hour and everything to do with what that posture meant. Every man in the family who had seen it before felt their mouths go dry.

"You think this is a joke?" he thundered, his voice echoing across the hall. "You think harming the innocent is something to laugh about?"

The children flinched.

"You will each receive twenty lashes tonight," he continued without hesitation. "For one full month, you will have no outings, no toys, no entertainment of any kind. You will rise at dawn and scrub this entire estate until your hands bleed."

Gianna gasped, lifting her head. "But Grandpa—"

"Silence," he snapped.

"But it was just a prank—"

"A prank?" Don Montecarlo's voice rose, filled with disbelief and rage. "You call this a prank? Taking the life of a helpless creature? Shame on all of you."

Enzo tried to say something, but the Old Don silenced him with a single look. The same look that had once stripped a capo of his territory in front of twenty men without a word being spoken.

"This is my house," Don Montecarlo said firmly. "And Seraphina is still family under this roof. If she wishes it, I will throw every one of you out myself."

Enzo froze, clearly shaken.

For a fleeting moment, something stirred inside me. A faint sense of protection.

But it came far too late.

Nothing could undo what had already happened.

I stood up slowly and walked past them, ignoring their whispers, ignoring the hatred in their eyes. I did not look back.

In the garden, beneath the dim night sky, I knelt down and began digging with my bare hands.

The soil was cold and damp. It clung to my fingers, filled my nails, scraped my skin raw. I did not stop. I could not stop. My tears fell into the dirt as I carved out a small grave behind the garden wall, where the security lights didn't reach and the soldiers on night rotation never patrolled.

"I'm sorry, Miso," I sobbed quietly.

He had been my only comfort in this place. The only one who loved me without conditions. The only one who stayed by my side.

And now he was gone.

Just like that.

Something inside me broke completely.

Later that night, I walked through the east corridor of the Montecarlo estate, my body heavy and numb. The hallway was lined with portraits of dead men in dark suits, their painted eyes following anyone who passed.

Then I heard them.

Soft whispers.

Low giggles.

I turned slowly.

They stood there, all six of them, each holding a candle. The flickering flames cast strange shadows across their faces, making their smiles look twisted and unnatural.

"You told on us," Alessia said sweetly, her voice filled with hidden venom.

Gianna stepped forward, her eyes gleaming. Her chin tilted up and to the left. "Nonno punished us because of you."

"I didn't tell," I said quietly, trying to walk past them.

Matteo stepped in front of me, blocking my way. "You cried like a baby. We saw you."

"Where's your puppy now?" Nico added with a sneer. One shoulder lifted in that careless shrug of his.

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Move."

"Or what?" Rocco smirked. "You'll run and complain again?"

"You're powerless now," Lucia said with a cold smile.

They began to circle me slowly.

Then they tilted their candles.

Hot wax dripped onto my skin.

I gasped as the burning drops hit my arms and neck, pain spreading instantly across my body.

Before I could react, a new voice echoed through the corridor.

"Children, that is not how we treat family."

I froze.

Valentina walked in calmly, as if she owned everything.

The woman they adored. The woman Enzo truly loved.

Her emerald satin robe shimmered under the corridor lights, her red hair flowing over her shoulders. She moved through the Montecarlo estate like a woman whose name was already on the deed.

"Mamma Valentina," the children cheered, running to her.

"My babies," she said gently, kissing their foreheads.

She finally looked at me, her smile soft but cold. "Oh. Seraphina. Still here?"

I clenched my fists. "What do you want, Valentina?"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I heard about the dog. Such a shame. But maybe now you can focus on yourself."

"Move," I said.

She did not move.

Instead, she leaned in closer. Her fingertips drifted to the hollow of her throat, lingering there for half a breath before dropping away. "You poor thing. No family. No friends. No place here."

Before I could react, she grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.

I tried to scream, but her hand covered my mouth and nose, cutting off my breath.

Panic surged through me.

I struggled, my body thrashing, my lungs burning for air.

Behind her, the children giggled and continued dripping hot wax onto my skin.

Darkness crept into my vision.

Then a voice called out.

"Is anyone here?"

Enzo.

The children stepped back immediately.

Valentina let go of me and shoved me aside.

I collapsed against the wall, gasping desperately, my chest heaving as I fought for air. My body trembled, covered in hardened wax and pain.

She had almost killed me.

"Enzo," Valentina called sweetly, wrapping her arms around him. "I was just comforting Seraphina. She has been overwhelmed."

Enzo frowned at me. "Seraphina, what is going on now?"

"She yelled at us," Matteo said quickly.

"She said she hated us," Rocco added.

"She scared Alessia," Gianna said softly.

"That is not true," I said, my voice shaking.

"She is just upset about the dog," Valentina said gently. "We should be patient."

Enzo's expression hardened. The way a man's face hardens when he has already chosen a side and resents being asked to justify it. "Seraphina, this is getting out of hand."

Something inside me shattered again.

I turned away.

They would never listen.

Never understand.

I went back to my room. The room they had given me at the far end of the east wing, where the walls were thin enough to hear the soldiers changing shifts outside and thick enough that no one heard what happened inside.

My suitcase was still there.

Waiting.

I checked my phone.

My flight confirmation had arrived.

The documents I requested would be ready in the morning.

I only needed to survive until then.

My fingers pressed hard against the inside of my left wrist, against the bare skin where my mother's bracelet once sat. I held them there until the shaking stopped.

The next morning, my phone buzzed urgently.

A message.

"Aunty Seraphina, help us. We have been kidnapped."

My heart stopped.

Another message followed.

"They took us to the forest behind the estate. Do not tell Nonno or Daddy. They will kill us if you do."

My hands trembled.

After everything they had done to me, after all the pain they caused, they were still children.

Six lives. Six heirs to the Montecarlo bloodline.

I could not ignore it.

I grabbed my keys and ran.

The forest beyond the estate's perimeter wall was dense and quiet. The path was unclear, the trees towering above me. The security cameras didn't reach this far. No one patrolled past the old stone boundary.

The location led me to a cliff.

"Kids?" I called out, breathless. "Gianna? Matteo?"

There was a rustling sound.

Then laughter.

Cold and cruel.

"You actually came," Gianna said, stepping out. Her chin was up, tilted to the left.

One by one, they appeared from behind the trees.

Dressed in black.

Holding crossbows.

My heart dropped.

They surrounded me from all sides.

Behind me was the cliff.

No way out.

"You should have left when we told you," Matteo said. His fingers were curled tight into his palms.

"You are ruining everything," Gianna shouted.

"You took Daddy," Alessia yelled.

"Now we take him back," Matteo said coldly.

"And avenge our mother," Lucia added.

They raised their crossbows together.

Six arrows aimed at me.

My head.

My heart.

My eyes.

My legs.

My temples.

My breath trembled. "No… please…"

In the next second, the arrows flew toward me from all directions.