Serena POV

Rosa's hands—scarred across the knuckles from years of combat training—shook me awake with surprising gentleness.

My limbs felt like they'd been filled with wet cement. The Somnus Decay was accelerating.

I forced a smile and blamed fatigue. Before she could retreat to the kitchen, I caught her wrist and ran my thumb over the ridges of her calluses.

"Thank you," I said. "For everything, Rosa. For spending your whole life standing between me and the blood."

She blinked, and a flicker of something—guilt, maybe—passed through her dark eyes before she squeezed my hand.

"You're my sister, Serena. You're the only good thing I have left."

An hour later, Dominic arrived.

He moved through the penthouse like a shifting weather system, his presence sucking the warmth from the air. His tailored suit emphasized the lethal geometry of his frame—broad shoulders, narrow waist, hands that had ended lives without a second thought.

He handed a large string-tied box to one of his trailing guards. Without a word, Rosa went to the vestibule to take his coat.

When she returned, her lipstick was smeared and her lips were swollen.

I felt my airway seal shut. But I kept my expression perfectly, naively blank—the face of the sheltered girl they both believed me to be.

Dominic presented the box. Inside was a custom cake from the Family's front bakery.

It was identical to the one Rosa had ordered for me last week.

"Wow," I said, forcing brightness into my voice. "You two really do have a telepathic connection. This is exactly what Rosa likes."

A muscle in Dominic's jaw tightened before he masked it with a smooth expression.

We sat at the long mahogany table. I talked lightly about old times—how Dominic used to shield me during the turf wars, how he'd spent years making me believe I was his chosen Queen. But I watched the way his entire body angled toward Rosa even when he was speaking to me.

I was his alibi. A convenient, fragile piece he used to stay close to the woman he actually wanted.

I chose to keep their secret. I would shoulder this weight alone, play the oblivious ornament, and let them have each other.

Rosa leaned over to light the candles. As she settled back, the flickering light caught Dominic's hand resting on the back of her chair, his thumb tracing slow circles against the fabric of her shoulder.

I reached under the table and dug my nails into my thigh until I felt the skin break.

Then I sat up and smiled.

"Presents," I demanded, becoming the spoiled girl they expected. "And I already know Rosa's will be better than yours, Dom."

Dominic's dark eyes locked onto mine. His hand slid slowly into his jacket pocket, and something unreadable passed across his face.

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Serena POV

The tension in the dining room thickened until the air felt like glass about to shatter.

Dominic had been drinking. The whiskey had stripped the edges from his composure, and he leaned back in his chair, tracking Rosa's every movement as she circled the table to clear the plates.

"Who wouldn't be obsessed with you?" he murmured. "I certainly am."

The hum of the crystal chandelier was the only sound.

Rosa froze. Her training kicked in—her posture went rigid, her hand drifting instinctively toward the knife on the table.

"What the hell are you saying?" she hissed.

I forced a light laugh. "Dom's just talking about your work ethic. I didn't hear anything scandalous."

Rosa exhaled. Her fingers trembled as she grabbed a steak knife, and in her distraction, the blade slipped across her palm. A line of red bloomed against her skin.

"I'll get the first-aid kit," I said.

Before I could rise, Dominic shoved his chair back. He crossed the room and seized Rosa's wrist, inspecting the wound himself—his possessive protectiveness on full display.

"Let go," Rosa whispered, her eyes darting toward me.

Dominic didn't move. He stared down at her until her shoulders dropped in surrender.

I walked to the bathroom and retrieved the heavy trauma kit the Syndicate kept stocked for gunshot wounds. When I returned, Dominic finally released her and stepped back, his expression hardening into ice.

I sat on the Persian rug and pulled Rosa's hand into my lap. I cleaned the cut, applied antiseptic, wrapped it in gauze. I acted as though I hadn't seen a thing.

"The rest of the dinner passed in suffocating silence."

They both piled delicacies onto my plate, driven by a guilt they couldn't voice. They drank glass after glass of whiskey in grim silence until Dominic pushed himself away from the table and relocated to the leather sofa, where he finally passed out.

Rosa hoisted his arm over her shoulder and escorted the Don to his waiting armored SUV.

I stayed behind in the quiet penthouse, mechanically picking up empty glasses and wiping down the table. When I bent to retrieve a napkin near the sofa, my fingers brushed against something cold tangled in the rug fibers.

A diamond necklace. Heavy. The Falcone crest in the center, surrounded by precisely cut stones.

I carried it to my bedroom and pulled out the velvet box Dominic had given me hours earlier. Diamond earrings. I held them side by side.

A flawless match.

I stared at the glittering stones, and the truth settled over me in the dead silence.

I was never his partner. I was an accessory he'd picked up to complete the set he intended for her.

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