The entire time I was locked in that basement, I refused to apologize.

The sealed space made it hard to breathe. All I could do was curl into myself as tightly as possible, searching for some small scrap of comfort. The walls were raw concrete, the kind they poured for wine cellars in the old compound but never finished. Somewhere above me, floorboards creaked under the weight of soldiers doing their rounds.

Then a pair of leather shoes appeared in front of me. Vittorio stood over me, looking down. "Ready to admit you were wrong?"

I thought of the graves, leveled to nothing, and the stubbornness in me held. "I wasn't wrong. Vittorio, you know that plot of land—"

He cut me off before I could finish. "I know."

"Serafina wanted it. So I gave it to her."

I stared up at him, eyes wide. "You gave it to her?"

In that moment, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. Not the Don of the Falcone Family. Not the man whose name made soldiers stand straighter in every borough of Crestfall. A stranger. Someone whose face I recognized but whose soul I no longer did.

Vittorio shrugged it off. "Serafina is beautiful and kind. If she hadn't carried me out of those mountains, I probably wouldn't be alive today."

"Bianca, all you have to do is admit you were wrong, and I'll let you out."

The mountains? Serafina saved him?

Three years ago, when Vittorio was stranded in the mountains after a deal gone wrong near the border, I was the one who hauled him out. Step by step, his weight on my back, through the snow. The blood from his side had soaked through my coat by the time we reached the road. He survived. I ended up in the hospital for two weeks. When I finally woke up, the first thing I learned was that he'd been carrying on with Serafina behind my back the entire time. That was what ended our marriage.

But how had the person who saved him become Serafina?

I opened my mouth. "Vittorio, maybe you should look into—"

"Don Falcone, please don't be hard on her. It's all my fault. I lost my footing and fell on my own. She absolutely did not push me…"

Serafina clicked over in her heels and positioned herself at Vittorio's side, instantly pulling every ounce of his attention. The basement door was still open behind her, and for one breath I could see the hallway light and the shadow of a soldier stepping aside to let her pass. Even in this house, she moved as if she owned it.

The moment I met her eyes, full of calculation and triumph, I understood. Serafina had stolen credit for what I'd done.

Vittorio wrapped his arm around Serafina's slim waist, his voice tender. "What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you need rest."

Serafina leaned into him, her voice a syrupy whine. "I missed you. And it looks like she still hasn't realized what she did wrong. Maybe you should toss something in there with her. I hear people confess to anything when they're scared enough."

Vittorio gave her an approving glance, then turned to the soldiers by the door. "You two. Go put my pets in there."

The word pets sent ice through my veins.

Vittorio had a particular hobby. He kept centipedes, spiders, and snakes. Cold-blooded creatures, all of them. Other men in the Family kept guard dogs or fighting breeds. Vittorio kept things that moved in silence and struck without warning. It said everything about him that I had been too blind to read.

The first time I'd seen them, I'd asked him, "They won't bite me, will they?"

Back then, Vittorio had looked me in the eye and promised, with every appearance of sincerity: "Don't worry. As long as I'm here, I will never let them hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

I never imagined this day would come so soon.

When the centipedes and spiders were released into the basement, my scalp went numb. They moved as if drawn to me, locking onto my position with terrible precision, swarming up my body in a crawling, writhing mass. Tiny, sharp stabs of pain, over and over, until I could barely think. My thumb pressed hard against the bare inside of my ring finger, but even that small anchor was disappearing under the crawling weight of them.

Vittorio's expression wavered.

Serafina pressed her fingertips to her temple, her voice going faint. "Oh no, Don Falcone, I think I'm feeling a little unwell…"

Without a word, Vittorio scooped her into his arms and walked away. His signet ring caught the light from the hallway, perfectly still on his knuckle. He did not look back.

I lifted my head just in time to catch Serafina peering back over his shoulder. Our eyes met. She mouthed the words silently: You deserve this, you worthless tramp.

I clenched my jaw and slammed my hands down on the insects, crushing every one I could reach.

Only one thought kept me alive: I am not dying here.

When I came to again, the sharp sting of antiseptic filled my nostrils. I frowned, the smell alone enough to make my stomach turn.

I struggled to sit up, but Vittorio's voice cut through the silence before I could manage it. "You're hurt. Rest. What are you squirming around for?" A pause, then a sigh heavy with irritation. "You never make anything easy."

I clenched my fingers into the bedsheet. "And whose fault is it that I ended up like this?"

Vittorio's expression froze for a split second before hardening over. His signet ring was still against his knuckle, not turning, not moving at all. "You brought this on yourself. Don't blame anyone else."

His words drove through my chest like a blade, buried themselves deep in my heart. The pain stole every word I might have said.

When I stayed silent, he opened his mouth to speak again, but a shrill ringtone cut him off.

He answered, and just like that, his voice softened without him even seeming to notice.

"Serafina... yeah... I'll pick some up for you on my way over..."

He hung up and the warmth vanished, replaced by ice. "Serafina is being generous this time. She's not pressing charges. Her birthday is in two days. Don't show your face there."

Two days. That was exactly when I'd planned to leave.

I lowered my gaze and said nothing.

The moment Vittorio walked out, the soldier stationed in the corridor pulling the door shut behind him, my phone buzzed with a text from Serafina.

Don't kid yourself into thinking Vittorio actually cares about you. He's planning to propose to me at my birthday gala. You're welcome to come watch, of course, but he'd really rather you didn't.

I turned off the phone and stared out the window at the blue sky and drifting clouds. My mind pulled me back to the day Vittorio had proposed to me.

After I'd said yes, he'd lifted me off my feet and spun me around, laughing, again and again. He'd even had fireworks set off over Crestfall for nine straight nights to celebrate. Every family in the territory had known what those lights meant. The Don was claiming his bride, and the sky itself was supposed to remember it.

Back then, he'd been so happy he wanted the whole world to know I was his.

But after that... everything changed. The estate was the same. The man was not.

The next day, I was discharged and went home. I punched in the door code at the front gate, and the screen flashed red. Incorrect password.

I tried again. And again. Each time the same cold rejection blinked back at me, until the lock froze me out entirely.

That code, the one my fingers had entered thousands upon thousands of times, now told me I didn't belong here.

I remembered the day I'd first moved into this house. Vittorio had taken my hand, and together we'd set the password.

"Just in case a certain someone forgets," he'd said with a grin, "I picked the day we got together."

That date was also my birthday. There was no way I'd gotten it wrong.

Yet the alarm kept blaring, each beep a slap across my face.

I was still standing there, frozen, when the door swung open from inside.

Serafina stood in the doorway wearing my silk nightgown. She yawned, slow and lazy, as if she'd just rolled out of bed. The faint scent of Vittorio's cologne clung to the fabric.

Then she swept her hair to one side, deliberately baring a neck mottled with hickeys. Her eyes glittered with satisfaction she didn't bother to hide.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie. Vittorio brought me home last night, and I threw a little fit, so he changed the code." She tilted her head, lips curling. "Guess he forgot to tell you."

My thumb brushed once over the bare inside of my ring finger. The gate sensor pulsed red behind me, patient and indifferent, waiting for a code that no longer existed.

There wasn't a shred of guilt on Serafina's face. If anything, she looked pleased with herself, watching me like she was waiting for me to lose it.

But I just stared at her, expressionless. I didn't say a word.

Serafina rolled her eyes, bored by my lack of reaction, and stepped aside to let me through. A nasty smile curled at the corner of her lips. "Watch your step, sis. Wouldn't want you to throw out your back."

My gaze dropped. I caught her foot sliding out to trip me.

Every humiliation, every degradation I'd swallowed over the past few days surged through me at once. I lifted my foot and brought it down hard.

"Ahhh!"

Serafina shrieked and crumpled to the marble floor, clutching her foot.

Vittorio came down the stairs from the upper landing, still fastening his cufflink. "What happened? Serafina, what's wrong—"

Before I could get a word out, Serafina beat me to it. "I was being nice and opened the door for her, and she didn't even appreciate it. She stomped on my foot on purpose!"

Vittorio's face went black. He didn't ask a single question. "Bianca. Apologize."

Again.

No questions asked. Just apologize.

I looked at Vittorio in silence.

It didn't matter what I said. He would never believe me. So I said nothing at all.

Vittorio's jaw tightened. "Looks like you don't need those legs of yours."

The words had barely left his mouth before two soldiers stepped forward, one on each side, pinning me in place.

A third raised a baton and brought it down on my kneecap. The pain was blinding. My legs buckled and I hit the floor, cold sweat pouring down my face. I bit down so hard my teeth nearly cracked, but I refused to make a sound.

Something in my silence set Vittorio off. His voice turned brutal. "Fine. You want to play tough? Let's see just how tough you really are."

He ordered the soldiers to throw me into the walk-in freezer off the estate's kitchen.

Vittorio stood at the freezer door, his eyes colder than anything inside it.

"Stay in there and cool off, Bianca. You can come out when you're ready to admit you were wrong."

The cold ate through my skin, my muscles, my bones. I could feel my body temperature dropping, degree by degree.

I didn't want to die in here.

I was so close. So close to getting out.

I tried to call for Vittorio, but my throat wouldn't produce a sound.

When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a bed.

Vittorio stood beside it in a black three-piece suit, his expression glacial. His signet ring sat perfectly still on his knuckle.

"Tonight is Serafina's birthday dinner. I won't let you ruin it."

"So your solution is to tie me up like a prisoner?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

A sharp, hollow ache bloomed behind my ribs.

Vittorio didn't deny it. All he said was, "Be good. Once tonight is over, I'll make it up to you."

He turned to leave. I called out before he reached the door.

"Vittorio. You promised me once that you'd give me a villa. Do you remember?"

His body went rigid for a split second. Then he turned back to face me. "I remember. Have you decided which one?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes. I already drafted the papers. They're in the second drawer of this nightstand."

"Just sign them, and I promise I won't cause any more trouble. Deal?"

Vittorio didn't think twice. He pulled the papers from the drawer, scrawled his signature, and set them back on the nightstand.

He never noticed the severance papers and the asset-transfer agreement tucked in with them.

He didn't even glance up. "Done. Remember what you said."

Then he turned and walked out.

Ten minutes after the door closed, I pulled out the razor blade I'd hidden and began sawing through the ropes, strand by strand.

The moment I was free, I called a moving crew and told them to pick up the boxes I'd packed days ago.

At the same time, I grabbed the signed dissolution papers and the other documents, tracked down Marco, collected every photograph he'd taken over the past few days, and went straight to Matteo. I handed over everything.

I booked a flight to Thornridge, climbed into a cab, and pulled the second SIM card out of my phone.

Vittorio had bought it for me.

Back when he wanted to make sure he could always reach me, that I'd never be out of contact, never beyond his hand.

I didn't need it anymore.

I snapped the card in half and tossed it out the window.

My thumb brushed once over the bare inside of my ring finger. The skin was smooth. Light.

Vittorio Falcone, I hope we never cross paths again.

Crestfall. I never wanted to come back.