The night before I was to be formally introduced as the future matriarch of the Costello family, I received a frantic call from my fiancé Cian's adopted sister, Liliana.

Her voice trembling, she claimed she had been drugged at our rival family's club.

I suggested Cian take her to the family doctor.

Instead, Cian slapped me across the face. The fire in his eyes could have burned me to ashes as he berated me for being cold and heartless, for thinking about family protocol at a time like this.

He roared that Liliana was family, someone he would protect with his life, and he had to help her in his own way.

I watched, frozen, as he loosened the tie of his bespoke suit and strode toward a flushed Liliana.

Liliana wound herself around him like a vine.

The heavy, soundproof door slammed shut in my face. The muffled moans and rhythmic thuds from within crushed my five years of love and devotion to dust.

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1

My left cheek still throbbed as the faint sounds of Cian's and Liliana's panting seeped through the door.

The sickening sound of skin slapping against skin and the dull thud of bodies mingled with the feigned ignorance of the Soldati standing guard. The sounds slithered into my ears like vipers.

"Never took the heir for being so... 'attentive' to his sister."

"Some sister. Looks more like his favorite whore, if you ask me."

"With his status? Who's going to say a damn thing, even if she was his real sister?"

I sat alone in the car, mechanically gulping down glass after glass of ice water. The chill burned my throat, a dull ache that was nothing compared to the agony crushing my chest.

The safe house door was suddenly thrown open.

Cian emerged, his clothes in disarray.

His shirt was wide open, revealing a chest raked with scratches. Fresh, crimson kiss marks stood stark against his neck.

Liliana hung on him as if boneless, draped only in his suit jacket. Dark, tell-tale stains smeared the inside of her thighs.

"Cian, you were incredible," she purred, deliberately smearing her lipstick on his collarbone. "Candace, you're so lucky."

The Soldati around us collectively lowered their heads.

Cian noticed me and reached out a hand, but the cloying scent of sex clung to him, thick and nauseating.

I recoiled violently, my head cracking against the car window.

The dull thud broke the silence in the parking lot, and everything went quiet.

"Disgusting," I spat, the word slicing through the silence.

A frosty mask fell over Cian's face. "Do you have to be like this? You know Liliana's situation is special."

I scoffed, pointing at the fresh love bite on her neck. "Special? So you had to personally be the one to fuck her? Cian, that 'protecting the women of the family' line of yours is such noble bullshit."

"Candace, if you hadn't dragged your feet, none of this would have happened," he said sharply. "I did what I had to do to protect her. Don't throw our future away over this."

I clapped slowly, raising my water bottle. "Congratulations, Mr. Costello, on a job well done. Here's to your profound 'brother-sisterly love'."

Cian's patience finally snapped. "Candace, have you made enough of a scene? Liliana is just my sister!"

Liliana suddenly whimpered weakly. "Cian, I don't feel well again..."

He immediately turned to her. As he walked away, he flicked a credit card at my face. "Candace, go buy the best morning-after pill money can buy. And supplements. Get it done. Fast."

He put his arm around Liliana and walked toward his car, adding, "And get some fever reducers. Liliana's temperature is a little high. Also, don't say things like that anymore. Liliana doesn't like it."

I grabbed a water bottle and hurled it against the wall. The plastic crumpled, and water splashed across the back of my hand.

The icy water dripped down my wrist, but I felt nothing.

When you’ve hit the bottom, even pain goes numb.

I stumbled out of the parking lot.

...

It was midnight when I returned to his penthouse apartment.

I was vomiting violently in the bathroom when a sharp ring broke the silence.

The name "Isadora Costello" flashed on the screen, blindingly bright.

It was only then that I realized, after throwing up, I had collapsed on the bathroom floor.

"Candace! The introduction ceremony is about to start! Where in the hell are you?" Isadora's shrill voice screeched from the phone. "I knew it. You're nothing but a nameless orphan he dragged in from the gutter. If Cian hadn't thrown a fit, you'd never be marrying into this family!"

"Mrs. Costello, have Cian and Liliana arrived?" I asked softly. The shouting on the other end paused. "Aren't you the future matriarch? Shouldn't you be getting ready? Cian is exhausted. He pulled several all-nighters just for you, persuading the family's Capos. Isn't it normal for him to get a little extra sleep?"

"Your son is busy fucking his adopted sister," I interjected, my voice a raw rasp. "Care for the details?"

There was dead silence on the other end, followed by an even more piercing shriek. "What nonsense are you spouting? Liliana and Cian are innocent—"

I hung up and stared at the portrait on the easel, the one I had spent three months painting for him.

The colors I had so carefully mixed were dazzling in the morning sun, mocking my foolishness.

My fingers brushed across his face on the canvas. A fine crack suddenly spiderwebbed across his painted face. Even the canvas couldn't bear it.

In a daze, I picked up a palette knife and slashed wildly at the canvas, not realizing tears were already streaming down my face.

Because I was an orphan, Isadora had always despised me. Nothing I did could win her favor. Back then, Cian would pull me into his arms and tell me it was okay. As long as he loved me, that was enough.

I was such a fool.

I'd been so blind. I never saw that Cian's obsession with Liliana was something far darker and more twisted than brotherly affection. The man I thought was my salvation had, right before my eyes, defiled everything we had with his adopted sister.

My phone buzzed incessantly, a flood of discreet notifications about the cancellation of the introduction ceremony pouring in.

On autopilot, I replied to the hypocritical messages of concern, telling them I was fine. I also prepared to return every single congratulatory gift I had received, one by one.

Just then, a new notification popped up on a private, high-society social media feed.

Liliana had posted a photo. She was lounging on rumpled silk sheets, naked except for the Costello family signet ring on her finger. The caption read: 'Cian's scent is the most reassuring thing in the world.'

Cian had replied with a hug emoji underneath.

I stared at the bruises on her wrist in the photo and suddenly burst out laughing.

How ironic.

The ring I designed myself, a symbol of our future, was now sparkling on someone else's finger.

I left a comment on the post. Liliana's video call came almost instantly.

On the screen, Cian's bare chest was covered in scratches. Liliana curled up next to him like a cat, deliberately revealing a bite mark on her shoulder.

"Candace." Her voice was sickly sweet. She traced a finger over Cian's abs as if showing off. "Cian's exhausted, still asleep. He worked so hard to help me last night..."

I watched her performance with a blank expression.

"Oh, by the way," she added suddenly, covering her mouth in feigned surprise and shaking her head. "Isn't today your formal introduction? It's all my fault. If I hadn't been drugged... Candace, you're not mad at me, are you?"

The camera panned to Cian's sleeping face. His neck was littered with hickeys, and there was a very distinct bite mark on his collarbone.

"Liliana, drop the act. You know perfectly well who drugged whom," I cut her off coldly, having no interest in watching her charade.

"Candace," she sneered, her mask falling away, "Cian and I have known each other for over ten years. Did you really think you could compete with me? We're not related by blood. He was always meant to be mine. What are you? A charity case. A poor little artist with a bit of talent and nothing to your name. What makes you think you ever deserved him?"

I laughed.

When we were together, Cian had mentioned this "sister" countless times. He always said she was fragile and that I had to treat her well in the future. I once teased him for being so doting on his sister at his age. I never imagined this was the truth between them.

She smiled smugly, then instantly switched to a pitiful expression. "Cian, Candace is bullying me..."

He woke up in a daze. When he saw me on the screen, he froze. "Candace..."

"Cian, don't you think this whole devoted brother-sister act of yours is disgusting?"

Liliana burst into tears. "It's all my fault! Cian, please don't fight with Candace. I'll just leave..."

The moment she started crying, Cian exploded. "That's enough, Candace! If you have a problem, take it out on me! Don't take it out on Liliana! She's already been through so much, and you want to push her even more? It's just a ceremony! What's the big deal if we postpone it? Do you have to be so malicious?"

"We haven't even been officially recognized by the family yet. Who I sleep with is my business. You have no say in it!"

I watched Cian shield Liliana and let out a hollow laugh. "You're right. We're not family yet. Your body, your choice."

My unnervingly calm tone seemed to placate him. "Good. Don't be angry with Liliana anymore. As long as you treat her well, we'll have the ceremony in a few days."

I nodded calmly. He clearly took this as a compromise and hung up, satisfied.

From that moment on, I would no longer care about anything related to Cian.

...

At three in the afternoon, I heard the front door unlock.

Cian walked in with his arm around Liliana's waist, dragging two oversized suitcases behind him.

"The doctor said she needs to rest," Cian said casually, as if discussing what to have for dinner. "After all, this mess happened because of you. Liliana will stay in the master bedroom."

Liliana tilted her head and smiled sweetly at me. Her slender fingers deliberately tugged at Cian's collar, revealing the raw, red marks underneath.

"You don't mind, do you, Candace?"

I said nothing, watching her survey our penthouse as if she were its mistress.

She suddenly stopped in front of my most treasured possession, my parents' only memento—a miniature portrait in a silver locket. "Wow, are these Candace's parents?"

Before I could react, the silver locket crashed onto the marble floor.

Glass shards scattered, scratching across the smiling faces of my parents in the photo.

"Candace, I didn't mean to."

I stared at the shattered image, the only likeness I had of my parents, and a wave of fury washed over me. I raised my hand.

Before I could touch her, Cian stepped in front of Liliana and slapped me hard across the face.