As one of the top negotiators in the family, I led my team to Chicago and defused a dispute with a rival outfit, pulling us back from the brink of a bloody war.

However, on the way back to New York City, I was ambushed and kidnapped by a group of masked thugs.

My fiancé, Marco, arrived with his men, but he only stood in the shadows, watching as the thugs shattered my right hand with an iron rod and slashed a knife across my face. He didn't move a muscle.

Bleeding out, I overheard a conversation between Marco and his second-in-command.

"Marco, if we don't save Sienna now, her hand might be ruined for good."

But Marco was unmoved, his voice cold. "I have to ruin her hand so Carla can get that Chief Advisor position. Sienna crushed it in Chicago; her star is rising too fast. This is the only way Carla stands a chance."

"It's just a little pain. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her."

In that moment, something inside me didn't just break—it shattered. I went limp, all the fight draining out of me.

I never imagined that the man I loved most would be the one to cast me into this hell himself.

————————

1

When I saw Marco appear with his men, a spark of hope ignited within me. I screamed for him with every ounce of strength I had, praying he would pull me from this hell.

But he stopped a good thirty feet away.

"Sienna, these guys are pros. This smells like a trap. Just hang on. We're working on a plan to get you out."

I stared at him, despair washing over me. In that instant, an iron rod slammed onto my right hand, and the world went black.

When I woke up again, I was locked in a cold, damp warehouse at an abandoned pier. Outside, I could hear the voice of his second-in-command, Frank.

"Marco, we have to go in now. The longer we wait, the worse her injuries get. She could die in there."

Marco shook his head. "No, not yet. She's tough. I need to make sure her hand is ruined for good. Only then can I be sure she won't be competing with Carla for the Chief Advisor position."

Frank's voice was strained. "No matter what, Sienna is the Principessa of the Costello family. If she finds out you crippled her hand for Carla, she'll hate you for the rest of her life."

Marco sighed, a helpless sound. "I have no choice. Carla is just a junior analyst; she needs this position. But Sienna still has me. I'll take care of her."

Their voices faded into the distance, and an icy dread filled my chest.

The physical agony was nothing compared to the sharp, bitter sting of his betrayal.

I couldn't believe that the man who had once sworn to love me forever was the very one who had destroyed my future and nearly cost me my life.

I remembered how, before I left for Chicago, Marco had tried to persuade me to let Carla take the lead on the job. So, he’d known all along: whoever solved the Chicago problem would be named the next Chief Advisor. He had wanted to send his mistress, but Carla thought it was too risky and refused. So Marco cooked up this vicious scheme instead.

My heart turned to ice as the truth settled in. Marco didn't love me. He never had.

Tears streamed down my face. In that filthy, foul-smelling warehouse, it felt as if I cried out a lifetime's worth of grief.

I don't know how much time passed before Marco returned with his men. This time, gunfire erupted between them and the thugs. The scene was intense, but I knew it was all a show, staged for my benefit.

Marco brandished his pistol, firing at the thugs while shouting, "Sienna, hold on! I'm coming to save you!"

I had no fight left. I let the thugs do their worst. To anyone else, the sight of Marco fighting so desperately would have looked like proof of his love. To me, it was just nauseating. The man who orchestrated my agony was now playing the part of my savior.

Frank couldn't bear to watch any longer. "We can't drag this out anymore, Marco. Sienna is barely holding on."

Before he could finish, Marco shot him a harsh glare, and Frank immediately fell silent.

I closed my eyes in despair, ready for death to take me.

In a daze, I relived the nightmare of my torture. I was on my knees, begging through my tears, "I'll give you any amount of money you want. Please, just let me go."

But the thugs were unmoved, one of them viciously slashing my cheek with a knife.

"What a shame. Such a pretty face, about to be ruined."

Their mocking laughter, the feeling of the blade tearing through my skin, the sharp crack of bone under the iron rod, and their snarling faces were burned into my memory.

I woke up with a start, gasping for air.

Once I calmed down, I realized I was in the family's private clinic. Outside the empty room, I could hear the doctor talking to Marco.

"She was brought in too late. There’s severe nerve damage in her right hand. Even if she recovers, she’ll never be able to write for long periods or do any fine, detailed work again. She also has three broken ribs and a deep laceration on her face. It will almost certainly scar."

"Is there really no other way? She's a top negotiator—an advisor who can't even write? How will she command any respect?"

The doctor sighed and shook his head. "She was a top candidate for the Chief Advisor position, but now, that position is out of the question for her."

After the doctor left, Frank finally couldn't hold back. "Sienna can't be an advisor anymore. So that fake ledger—the one framing her for embezzling from the Chicago job—we don't need it now, right?"

Marco was silent for a long moment before his voice came out, hoarse.

"I know this will destroy her reputation, but I have to submit it. Just in case. Carla has no one to rely on in New York; this is the only way to secure her future. Sienna is different. She still has me. I'll be her rock."

I closed my eyes as a single tear slid down my cheek and soaked into the pillow.

The man who claimed he would be my rock was the one pushing me into the abyss.

The next morning, the family's Consigliere, Mr. Petrov, walked into my room with a grim expression and handed me a file folder. Since I’d joined the family business, Mr. Petrov had been a mentor to me. But now, I saw only cold disappointment in his eyes.

"Sienna, I am here to inform you that you are stripped of all your duties for betraying the family."

Seeing my bandaged hand, he took the evidence from the folder and laid it out in front of me.

"I know you are the Don's daughter, but embezzling funds from the Chicago project is a betrayal of the family. Not even the Principessa is above our laws. We’ve worked together for years, Sienna. I never thought you were capable of this."

"No…" I started to explain, but Marco cut in. "Mr. Petrov, could there be some misunderstanding? How could Sienna possibly betray the family?"

The Consigliere sighed. "I wish there were, but we received an anonymous tip last night, and the evidence is conclusive. I have no choice but to believe it."

I swallowed my words. No one here would believe me. The man who had mentored me now looked at me with resentment, and my chest ached as if I were suffocating. And the source of it all, the hypocrite himself, was standing right there.

After Mr. Petrov left, Marco gently hugged me, his voice a soft comfort. "Don't be afraid. I believe you. I'll have my men investigate and clear your name."

Though I couldn't see his face, I could imagine the smug look he was wearing. I said nothing, my stomach churning. I had never been so disgusted by another human being.

Marco did indeed send men to investigate, but since he was the one who orchestrated the frame-up, his so-called investigation predictably went nowhere. Everyone believed I had betrayed the family, subjecting me to endless questioning and ostracism. Some family members even stood outside the clinic, pointing fingers.

"We don't need a Principessa who betrays the family—get out!"

"He went through hell to get her back, and this is how she repays him? She should've died with those animals!"

Each time, Marco would appear to drive them away, then return to my room and embrace me as I huddled in the corner, a flicker of something unreadable—pity? guilt?—in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I will find out the truth for you. I'll bring in the best surgeons from Europe, and if that doesn't work, I'll find an underground miracle doctor. No matter the cost, I will heal you."

By now, I couldn't tell if a single one of his words was sincere.

Sure enough, that night I overheard a conversation between Marco and a doctor.

"Change her medication tomorrow. Switch it to one that will slow wound healing. We can't let her be discharged so quickly, at least not until the day Carla's appointment is officially announced."

I didn't cause a scene. I quietly returned to my room and dialed the only number in my contacts from a backup phone.

"Papa… I want to come home."

Marco came to see me at the clinic early the next morning, peeling an apple by my bedside.

"Sienna, I've already contacted the best surgeon in Europe. You'll be able to have surgery soon." He brought a slice of apple to my lips, a look of earnest concern on his face.

Thinking of what he'd said last night, I forced a smile and said nothing. My best friend had already booked a private jet to take me home tomorrow. I had no intention of sticking around for his so-called "surgery."

Just then, the door opened. Carla, dressed in a sharp power suit, glided to my bedside, a sickeningly sweet smile fixed on her face. "Sienna, I'm your acting advisor. I came to see how you are."

She placed a cold hand on my cheek. "You poor thing, how did you get so badly hurt?" Her words were dripping with mockery, her eyes gloating.

Carla was Marco's mistress and his first love. To solidify his position as heir and gain the support of my more powerful family, Marco had been forced to break up with her and enter a marriage alliance with me. As a result, Carla had despised me ever since.