The Don’s Favorite Lover Vanished

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane. Chapter 1 I was Don Vincenzo’s secret for ten years. I was waiting for a ring. Instead, after fucking me, he told me he was marrying someone else. That's when I knew I was just a body for him to use. An hour ago. For the thousandth time, he fucked me, wild and furious. I came apart under him, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes… like that…” I gasped, feeling every one of his thrusts deep inside me. He kissed me hard, harder than ever before. When it was over, I curled up in his arms, tracing the scars on his chest with my finger. His voice cut through the dark. “Tomorrow night, you’re coming to the family dinner.” I looked up at him, my heart pounding. I’d slept with him for a decade. He’d never let me near a family dinner. “Vincenzo,” I sat up, my voice trembling. “Is this it? Are you finally making me yours?” He raised an eyebrow, giving me a sideways glance. “Official?” He blew a smoke ring, his tone sharp. “What’s to make official? The dinner is to welcome my fiancée. Katerina Petrov, the Russian Bratva princess.” Every word hit me like a sledgehammer. My heart stopped. My mind went blank. “You’re getting married? Then what the hell am I?” The smirk on Vincenzo’s face died. He leaned in close. “Don’t tell me, Chiara,” he purred, a finger tilting my chin up. “You didn’t really think you could be the lady of the Russo family, did you?” I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. "Her. When did you decide?" "Six months ago." He got up and walked to the bathroom, without a single glance back at the wreckage he’d made of my face. "It's for the alliance. For the family." Six months ago. I remembered all his business trips to Europe. Every time he came back, I was waiting for him in bed. And on those trips, he was getting engaged to another woman. I followed him into the bathroom. The mirror showed my pale face, my body covered in his marks. An hour ago, they were trophies. Now, they were just marks of shame. "Do you love her?" "Love?" He turned on the shower, steam quickly fogging the mirror. "Chiara, I thought you were smarter than that. This is business. Not a fairytale." He stepped out of the shower, water dripping down his perfect body. Ten minutes ago, that body drove me wild. Now, it just made me sick. "Katerina is young, beautiful, and useful. She brings the entire Eastern Bloc with her." He grabbed a towel. His eyes swept over my naked body. "And you… you have other uses." Other uses. A warm body in his bed. A loyal weapon. I just stood there, feeling his cum run down my leg. I had never felt so dirty. When I pulled myself together and walked back out, Vincenzo was already in a suit, sitting on the sofa, on the phone. “The Fabergé egg. Make sure it’s the ‘Winter Egg.’ It's Katerina’s favorite. The flowers have to be lilies of the valley, flown in from Russia. She loves the scent. And get a dozen haute couture gowns ready for her to try on. All white. She says it’s the color of angels.” Hearing that, my heart seized up. I couldn't help but look. And I saw it. A smile on his face I had never seen before. It was almost… sweet. The pain I’d just managed to push down came flooding back. Clatter. My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor. Vincenzo turned at the sound, still smiling. “All clean? Good. See yourself out. I’ll take care of the bill.” He grabbed his coat to leave, but stopped at the door and looked back at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Chiara, you’ve always been my best weapon. So lose that kicked-puppy look, Chiara. It makes you look pathetic. Like you’re reaching for something you could never have.” “I know you inside and out. I know what you’re thinking with just one look. Don’t you think that’s a little… predictable? If we were actually together, it’d be so damn boring.” His voice faded with his footsteps, but the words echoed in my head. I sat on the cold bed. I started to laugh. And then the laughter turned to tears. I sat there until late, then went back to my own studio. I walked to the safe and put in the code. Inside was a gold Desert Eagle. The grip was engraved with my initials. A “gift” from Vincenzo for my eighteenth birthday. There were also the jewels, the paintings, the antiques he’d given me over the years. Tonight, I threw them all into the incinerator, one by one. “Miss, all this good stuff… you’re really getting rid of it?” my assistant asked, his eyes full of regret as he watched the flames. I nodded slowly. My voice was quiet. “I don’t want them anymore.” Not just them. This relationship, this man… I didn’t want any of it. I dialed an encrypted number. “Papa. It’s me.” “Chiara? You finally decided to call.” “In seven days, I want the name Chiara Rossi to disappear from Chicago. Forever.” Chapter 2 I turned off my phone. Seventeen encrypted messages from Vincenzo. I didn't answer a single one. At two in the afternoon, the door to my studio was kicked open. Marco, Vincenzo’s right-hand man, stormed in with four of his goons. “Miss Chiara,” Marco’s voice was polite, but his hand was already on the butt of his gun. “The Boss wants to see you.” I didn’t look up. I kept working on the painting in front of me. “Tell your boss I’m busy.” “I’m afraid this isn’t a request.” I put down my brush and stood up. “So you’re dragging me back by force?” Marco didn’t deny it. “The Boss’s orders. Don’t make this ugly.” Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of the Russo family estate. This used to be my home. Now, it was just a cage. I was “escorted” to my old art studio. The moment the door opened, I froze. The room was empty. All my paintings, my easels, my paints, our only photo together… Every trace of me was gone. Cleaned out. In its place was opulent, Russian-style decor. And hanging in the center of the wall was a huge oil painting. It was Katerina, in a white dress, smiling like a saint. “Like it? Katerina picked it out herself.” Vincenzo’s voice came from behind me. He was wearing a custom Brioni suit. Flawless. Katerina was clinging to his side, blonde hair, blue eyes, an angel. “Katerina,” Vincenzo said, his tone flat, “this is Chiara Rossi. The family’s most… useful asset.” Katerina’s blue eyes flashed with innocence. Her voice was sweet. “It’s so nice to meet you. Vincenzo mentions you all the time. Says he doesn’t know who’d do all the family’s ‘dirty work’ if it weren’t for you. That must be so hard.” She stressed the words “dirty work,” but her face was a mask of sympathy. “It’s my honor to serve the family,” I replied, my face blank. Vincenzo nodded, satisfied. He turned to Katerina. “Darling, let me introduce you to the uncles.” He wrapped his arm around her and led her to the main hall. I followed like a shadow. The family elders were already waiting. One of them, Uncle Antonio, looked from me to Vincenzo and smiled. “Vincenzo, Chiara has been by your side for so many years. We all thought…” Vincenzo cut him off, his voice cold. “Uncle Antonio.” His face darkened. “Don’t say things that could be misunderstood.” His eyes cut to me, his voice low, but carrying across the silent room. “I would never dirty my hands with an underling.” I lowered my eyes to hide the pain. I forced a smile. “Uncle Antonio, you’ve misunderstood. The Boss and I have always had a purely professional relationship.” For a split second, Vincenzo’s expression froze. Then it was gone. The tension in the hall vanished. Katerina tightened her grip on Vincenzo’s arm and gave me a triumphant little smile. Vincenzo walked past me. He started to raise his hand, like he always did, to pat my head. But he stopped halfway. He fixed Katerina’s hair instead. He leaned in, his voice a low growl only I could hear. “Well done. Remember what you said tonight. Don’t disappoint me.” The dinner began. I sat alone at the far end of the long table, watching Vincenzo and Katerina at the head, accepting everyone’s congratulations. Vincenzo felt me looking. He turned and met my gaze. He raised his glass to me. His eyes were cold, full of approval. Like he was praising a well-trained hound. I raised my glass back, a perfect smile on my lips. I hope you’re still smiling in seven days, Vincenzo. When I’m gone for good. Chapter 3 The dinner ended. “Chiara, you’re coming too,” Vincenzo’s voice called from the top of the stairs. I looked up. He was helping Katerina into her coat, his movements gentle in a way they never were with me. It was like swallowing acid. “Of course,” he looked at me, his eyes like ice. “You’re my best intel specialist. Time to get familiar with your new boss.” The armored car was waiting outside. I instinctively moved toward the front passenger seat. A single look from Vincenzo stopped me. “In the back,” he said. Katerina took his arm and slid into the spacious middle row. I was stuffed into the corner of the back row. An afterthought. The car pulled away into the Chicago night. The first bullet shattered the windshield without warning. “Get down!” Marco yelled, wrenching the steering wheel. Gunfire erupted from all sides, bullets hammering the car like hail. “Shit!” Vincenzo pulled his gun. “It’s the Torrino family!” I drew my Glock and fired back through the rear window. Katerina screamed and curled up in Vincenzo’s arms. He returned fire while shielding her with his body. “It’s okay, baby, I’m here.” The back tires blew out. The car spun out of control, heading for a wall. Then I saw him. A hitter in a side tunnel, raising an RPG to his shoulder. “Rocket!” I screamed. Time slowed down. The rocket streaked toward us, trailing fire. In that split second, Vincenzo made his choice. He grabbed Katerina, pulling her under him, using his back as a shield. Then, he lifted his foot. And with all his strength, he kicked. Not at the enemy. At me. His boot connected with the door beside me, and the force launched me from the car. I hit the asphalt and tumbled, the world a blur of pain and concrete. “No—” BOOM. A fireball swallowed everything behind me. The heatwave threw me against the tunnel wall. Shards of glass and metal rained down, cutting my skin. I felt the sharp pain of broken ribs. Warm blood ran from my forehead, blurring my vision. My last conscious thought before the darkness took me: I saw him crawl from the wreckage, Katerina clutched safely in his arms. His suit was torn, but his eyes were sharp. He gently stroked her hair, murmuring to her, then ran with her toward safety. He didn’t even glance back. He never looked back. I lay on the cold ground, listening to the crackle of fire eating metal. Then the darkness took me. When I opened my eyes, I was in the family’s secret medical wing. “You’re awake,” old Dr. Castellano said, checking my pupils. “You’re lucky. Marco dragged you back from the blast right before it went up.” “Vincenzo?” My voice was a rasp. “The Boss is with Miss Katerina,” the doctor said, pausing. “She was badly shaken.” I let out a silent, bitter laugh. Shaken. “Doctor, turn on the monitor.” The screen on the wall flickered on, showing feeds from all over the estate. I switched to Katerina’s room. She was in a white silk nightgown, propped weakly against the pillows. Vincenzo was sitting on the edge of the bed, feeding her soup, spoon by spoon. His movements were so gentle, like he was handling a priceless treasure. “I almost lost you,” his voice trembled with fear. “I can’t live without you, Katerina.” “I know. You saved me,” she whispered, touching his face. “You’re my hero.” Then, Vincenzo pulled a velvet box from his pocket. My heart stopped beating. He got down on one knee. He opened the box. Inside was a massive diamond ring. I recognized it. The ring passed down to the matriarch of the Russo family. “Marry me,” he said, looking up at her, his eyes full of devotion. “Not for the family. Not for the alliance. Just because… I love you.” Katerina burst into happy tears. “Yes! Of course, I will!” He slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her hand. I stared at the screen until it dissolved into static. So, he knew how to say the words. He just never said them to me. Chapter 4 Three days later, my door opened. Vincenzo walked in, Katerina on his arm. She wore a white Chanel suit. The family ring on her left hand glittered, stabbing at my eyes. “Chiara,” Vincenzo’s voice was flat. “How are you feeling?” “Still breathing,” I said, my voice like gravel. “Disappointed?” Katerina walked to my bedside, her face a mask of fake concern. “I’ve been wanting to see you. I heard you were badly hurt protecting us. You’re so brave.” Protecting you. What a fucking joke. “Just doing my job.” “Your loyalty is very touching,” Katerina said. Her gaze dropped to the open collar of my hospital gown, zeroing in on the small phoenix tattoo just below my collarbone. We got it after our first firefight together. Our first secret. A flash of jealousy crossed her eyes. She turned to Vincenzo, her voice sickly sweet. “Darling, Chiara’s tattoo is so unique. But… I don’t really like it. It reminds me you have a past I don’t know about. It makes me feel… insecure.” Vincenzo went still. He was silent for a few seconds. Then he took out his phone and dialed Marco. “Get Tony over to the hospital with his kit. Now.” My blood ran cold. Tony was the family’s tattoo artist. No. He wouldn’t… Twenty minutes later, Tony Marcelli walked in, carrying a black case. He saw me in the bed, then looked at Vincenzo, confused. “Boss, you sure… you want to do this here?” I thought he was here to erase mine. To strip me of our last secret. But I was wrong. It was so much worse. Vincenzo took off his own shirt. The scars on his chest were suddenly blinding. The ones I traced with my fingers after we made love. The marks of our life together. The one on his left pec, from three years ago at the docks. I’d shoved him out of the way and took Tony the Butcher’s knife for him. He held me, covered in blood, and lost control for the first time, his eyes shot with red as he screamed my name. He’d said, "Chiara, you're mine. No one touches you." The bullet graze on the right, from five years ago in Milan. We were cornered. I used a fake ID to talk us past the cops and get us out. He kissed my wounds and called me his goddess of victory. And now he was going to erase it all. “Right here,” Vincenzo said, revealing the much more intricate phoenix on his chest. The one I designed for him when I was nineteen. One of a kind. He pointed to the phoenix and gave Tony his order. “Cover it. With the Russian double-headed eagle.” “Boss!” Tony’s voice was tight. “Are you sure? A cover-up that big... it’s gonna hurt like hell. And it’s going to scar like a motherfucker.” “Do as I say,” Vincenzo’s tone left no room for argument. I struggled to sit up. “Vincenzo, you don’t have to—” “Shut up.” He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were ice. “This has nothing to do with you.” The buzz of the needle was sharp in the quiet room. Blood seeped out, mixing with ink, a smear of red before my eyes. I watched the phoenix I designed, the symbol of our past, get tortured, consumed, and swallowed whole by the eagle that stood for his alliance, his new woman. Vincenzo gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead, but he didn’t make a sound. His eyes never left Katerina. “Does it hurt?” Katerina asked, dabbing his sweat with a handkerchief. “No,” he gritted out, his voice rough. He never took his eyes off her. “For you, nothing hurts.” Two hours later, it was done. Vincenzo’s chest was a mess of blood and raw flesh, but the snarling Russian eagle had completely replaced the phoenix. My phoenix was gone. “Perfect,” Katerina purred, kissing his bloody chest. “Now, inside and out, you belong only to me.” Vincenzo looked at the strange, bloody symbol in the mirror. He gave Katerina a weak but satisfied smile. “Yes,” he said, but his eyes found mine in the reflection. “Now, I’m only yours.” Chapter 5 The next morning, my burner phone rang. It was Vincenzo. “Viktor’s workshop,” he commanded, his voice empty of emotion. “One hour. Katerina needs a new piece. You’re designing it.” “I refuse.” “This isn’t a request, Chiara. Don’t make me have my men ‘ask’ you again.” He hung up. An hour later, I was in the basement of the abandoned factory. Vincenzo and Katerina were already there. “Viktor,” Vincenzo said to the workshop’s owner, a legendary Russian weaponsmith. “This is Chiara. The best art forger in Chicago, and the best weapons expert. I need her to create a one-of-a-kind sidearm for Katerina.” Viktor’s eyes lit up. “Art and arms! I like it!” He led us to a workbench covered in black velvet, laid out with rare metals and gems. Vincenzo came to my side. His voice was a low whisper, just for me. “I want you to build her the perfect gun. Use the same specs as my Glock. The one you built for my hand.” My breath caught. “I know you remember every detail,” he went on, his voice cold. “The 7-degree cant on the grip, the 2mm trigger pull, the platinum front sight that catches the faintest light in the dark. Replicate all of it. For her.” I understood. He wanted me to cut open our past, take the trust and blood we’d built, and gift-wrap it for another woman. It was a hundred times crueler than another tattoo. “Chiara?” Katerina came over, her voice sweet and innocent. “Can you help me? I’ve always wanted a gun engraved with my and Vincenzo’s initials. Wouldn’t that be the most romantic token of our love?” I looked at her innocent smile, at Vincenzo’s unyielding stare. I forced a smile of my own. “Of course.” I picked up the stylus, but my hand was shaking. I drew the streamlined frame, the perfect balance, every detail that had once been ours. My hand was drawing, but my heart was bleeding. “Brilliant!” Viktor admired the blueprint. “This is a work of art!” “How long?” Vincenzo asked. “Three weeks,” Viktor replied. “If Miss Chiara is willing to oversee the production.” Oversee it. Watch another woman hold a “love token” made from my past with him. “No.” I stood up abruptly, my voice hoarse. Everyone stared at me. I took the design I’d just finished, and in front of everyone, I tore it to shreds. “I don’t build fucking love tokens for your new whore!” I threw the pieces on the floor, releasing a rage that had been building for what felt like an eternity. Vincenzo’s eyes turned dangerous. “Chiara—” I turned to leave. “If you walk out that door,” his voice was a threat, “don’t force me to use the family’s rules on you. You know what happens to traitors.” I looked back at him, my eyes cold. “Then try me.” I walked out without another glance, Katerina’s terrified scream and Vincenzo’s roar of anger chasing after me. Back at my safe house, a gold-embossed invitation was waiting at the door. “You are cordially invited to the engagement party of Mr. Vincenzo Russo and Miss Katerina Petrov.” I stared at the beautiful card, imagining them picking it out together. Then my phone buzzed. A photo from Marco. Vincenzo was at my favorite private shooting range, coaching Katerina. In her hands was the custom SIG Sauer P226 that used to be my favorite. I flicked open my lighter and held the flame to the corner of the invitation. I watched it burn. Watched their names turn to black ash, and with them, the last shred of hope I had. I dialed my father’s encrypted number. “Papa.” “Is it time?” I watched the invitation turn to ash. My voice was ice. “It’s time. We do it tonight.” Chapter 6 I had just zipped the last bag when the door to the safe house was kicked off its hinges. Vincenzo stood in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot, blazing with rage. “Found you,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. My hand went to my gun. His was faster. Of course, it was. Three strides, and he had me. He slammed me against the wall, his hand an iron vise around my wrist. “Where did you think you could run?” he snarled, his breath hot on my face, smelling of whiskey and fury. I struggled, but he had me pinned. Suddenly, the rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by something almost broken. “I’ve been looking for you all night,” he said, his forehead resting against mine, his voice rough with exhaustion. “I thought something happened to you…” A sharp pain went through my chest. But my head knew better. This was just another trap. “Let go of me, Vincenzo.” “Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doing.” “It has nothing to do with you.” “Nothing to do with me?” He let out a cold laugh, grabbing my chin. “You are mine, Chiara. Every inch of you has been branded Russo for ten years. You don’t get to decide when it has nothing to do with me.” “Brands get old. They get replaced.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You and your family… you mean nothing to me anymore.” The words were a poisoned knife, and they hit their mark. CRACK. His hand flew across my face. The force was so strong I tasted blood. “Take it back,” he said, his voice like ice. “You’re not just insulting me. You’re insulting the Russo family.” I wiped the blood from my lip with the back of my hand and smiled. A broken smile. “You hit me for her. You hit me for the family. Vincenzo, what’s your line? Is there anything you won’t hit me for?” “You don’t get to talk about lines!” He was furious. He reached into his suit and pulled out an old, heavy medallion carved with a two-headed serpent. He slammed it on the table. The Rossi family blood oath seal. “Your father swore a blood oath with the honor and blood of the Rossi family,” his voice was the Don’s now, every word a stone crushing my heart. “Your life, your loyalty, everything you are… from the day you were born, it belongs to the Russo family. It belongs to me!” I stared at the seal. My blood ran cold. This was the chain I could never break. “You’re going to use my father’s oath against me?” “If it’s the only way to make you obey.” He picked up the seal, his eyes turning cold and hard again. “The night after tomorrow. The engagement party. You will be there.” He paused, then delivered the final, cruel blow. “And you will be the one to present Katerina with the Petrov ‘pact of peace’—the diamond dagger. You will kneel, and you will show every family in that room what Rossi loyalty looks like.” I just looked at him. The man I would have died for. Watching him chain me with my family’s honor, only to humiliate me with the sharpest blade. “I understand,” I said, my voice empty. “Good.” He turned to leave, satisfied. “Remember your place, Chiara. You are my property. Not my enemy.” He and his men left. I stood alone in the trashed apartment. The setting sun cast a long, lonely shadow on the floor. A blood oath. He was holding me to a blood oath. I picked up the small blade I used for cutting canvases. I stared at its sharp edge. “A blood debt,” I whispered, my voice as light as a feather. “Must be paid in blood.” Chapter 7 Chicago’s Holy Name Cathedral had never looked so grand. Every crime boss in the city was there. The air was thick with expensive perfume and gunpowder. I stood alone in the shadows. Katerina walked toward me in a priceless Vera Wang gown, a diamond tiara sparkling in her hair. A fairytale princess. She stopped in front of me. Her eyes fell to my chest. I was wearing a black diamond phoenix necklace. The first piece I ever designed, for my eighteenth birthday. I’d given it to Vincenzo. A few days ago, he had Marco “return” it to me. “That poor little bird,” Katerina’s voice was sickly sweet, dripping with venom. “So lonely now that its owner has thrown it away. Tell me, Chiara, does it hurt? Knowing you were so easy to replace.” Before I could answer, Vincenzo’s voice came from behind us. “Darling, what are you talking about with my soldier?” He came over, his arm sliding possessively around Katerina’s waist. He didn’t even look at me. Like I was part of the furniture. “Nothing,” Katerina pouted. “I just thought Miss Chiara looked lonely over here by herself.” “A soldier stays in her post,” Vincenzo said, his tone freezing. “Chiara. Hold your position.” I raised my champagne glass to them, a perfect smile fixed on my face. “Yes, Boss.” The orchestra began a waltz. Vincenzo led Katerina to the center of the floor. They were the perfect couple, bathed in the admiration of the crowd. Suddenly, all the lights went out. The cathedral fell silent for a heartbeat, then the roar of automatic weapons tore it apart. Rat-tat-tat-tat! Screams. Breaking glass. The crash of overturned tables. “Get down!” “It’s a hit! The Torrinos!” I instinctively drew the Glock from my thigh holster and took cover behind a stone pillar. In the dark, muzzle flashes were like shooting stars of death. “Katerina!” Vincenzo’s voice was raw with a panic I’d never heard before. “Katerina, where are you?!” More gunfire. Windows shattered as hitters poured in from every side. I saw a small, black object arc through the darkness, whistling as it flew toward the center of the dance floor. A grenade. In that life-or-death moment, I saw them. Vincenzo and Katerina. Huddled on the other side of the dance floor. Because of where I’d moved, I was near him, too. The three of us formed a deadly triangle. The grenade landed right in the middle of us. Time stopped. Vincenzo saw the grenade. His eyes shot to a terrified Katerina. Then they shot to me. He had one second. He made his choice. He didn’t hesitate. He threw himself at Katerina, covering her body with his, shielding her head. As he lunged for her, his foot pushed off the marble floor. Right next to me. He used my position as leverage. One final push to propel himself toward her, and away from me. BOOM! The blast wave threw me against the stone pillar. I heard my ribs crack. Warm blood coughed from my lips. Shattered stone and glass rained down. My dress was torn, the blue silk stained red. The chain on my phoenix necklace snapped. The pendant skittered away into a pool of my blood. Through my blurring vision, I saw Vincenzo climb from the rubble, Katerina held safely in his arms. His tuxedo was shredded, but he only had eyes for her. “Return fire! Kill every last one of these motherfuckers!” he roared. Then he picked her up and ran for the side door, for the safest way out. The gunshots continued. I lay in a pool of my own blood, listening to my breathing grow shallow. He never looked back. Not even a glance to see if his most loyal soldier, the woman who’d bled for him for a decade, was dead or alive. He had made his choice. He chose his queen. And he sacrificed his weapon. Chapter 8 The shooting stopped. Emergency lights flickered on, illuminating the ruins. Vincenzo stood in the center of the hall. Across from him stood a man in a Russian military-style coat—Katerina’s uncle, Dimitri Petrov. “I require an explanation,” Dimitri’s voice was ice. “My niece was nearly killed. On your territory.” “The Torrino family will pay,” Vincenzo said. “Not enough.” Dimitri’s gaze went past him, finding me behind my pillar. “That one,” Dimitri’s gaze flicked past him, landing on me. “Your loose end.” His tone shifted. He moved closer to Vincenzo. “A woman who forces a man to ‘choose’ is a liability. My niece will not start her new life with liabilities.” Vincenzo was silent. “Our alliance requires the elimination of all internal liabilities,” Dimitri delivered his ultimatum. “This woman knows too many of your secrets. Deal with her before the wedding. Or the deal is off.” Dimitri turned and left. Vincenzo stood alone for a long moment. Then he turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine across the wreckage. The struggle was gone. All that was left was the cold logic of the Don. He raised his radio. “Marco.” His voice was quiet, but it hit me like a hammer. “Activate the ‘cleanup protocol.’ Target: Chiara Rossi.” I laughed. I wasn’t beaten by a woman. I was beaten by his ambition. I dragged my broken body out through a side door. Katerina was waiting for me in the rose garden. “You heard him,” she said, a victor’s smile on her face. “Don’t blame Vincenzo. For his future, you have to disappear.” A guard behind her handed her a syringe. “He asked me to send you off. A last kindness. A clean death.” She gave a nod. Two big men started toward me. I pulled the small knife from my thigh. I slit the first man’s throat. Blood sprayed across the white roses. The second man went for his gun. I rolled, dodged, and buried the knife in his heart. He collapsed, a look of surprise on his face. Katerina screamed and stumbled backward. “You’re insane! You killed them!” I got to my feet, the knife dripping blood. “They were trying to kill me.” “Help! Help me!” Katerina shrieked. “Chiara’s trying to kill me!” Footsteps pounded from all directions. The estate guards rushed in, their guns all aimed at me. Then Vincenzo appeared. He saw the two bodies on the ground. He saw the terrified Katerina. He saw me, holding the bloody knife. His face became a mask of fury. Katerina ran to him, tears streaming down her face. “She’s crazy! She tried to kill me!” she sobbed. “If my men hadn’t protected me, I’d be dead!” Vincenzo wrapped his arms around her, patting her back. Then he drew his own gun. And aimed it at me. The cold metal pressed against my forehead. His eyes were savage. There was no warmth left. “Chiara!” His roar was inhuman. “You dare put your hands on her!” His gun was still leveled at my head, his voice dropping to a lethal growl. “Get the fuck out of my city. And if I ever see your face in Chicago again, I will put a bullet in your head myself.” Chapter 9 “Vincenzo!” Katerina cried, a flash of vicious triumph in her terrified eyes. “She tried to kill me! She betrayed the family! By the rules, you have to execute her yourself!” Execute me. I looked into Vincenzo’s eyes, waiting for his sentence. His finger tightened on the trigger. His dark eyes were a storm of emotions I couldn’t read. Rage, conflict… and a flicker of exhaustion. Time stood still. Then, slowly, he spoke. Each word deliberate. “Marco.” Marco stepped out from behind him. “Yes, Boss.” “Get her,” Vincenzo’s gun was still on me, but his words were for Marco, “and throw her off the estate.” Katerina’s sobs stopped. She looked at Vincenzo in disbelief. “Vincenzo, you…” Vincenzo ignored her. His eyes were still locked on me. “Cut her off. Freeze her accounts. Strike her from the family records.” The orders came out like machine-gun fire, every one a cold blade. “I don’t want to see this face in Chicago ever again.” He paused, then delivered the final sentence. “Tell everyone, from this night on, Chiara Rossi is a traitor to the Russo family. Anyone who helps her is an enemy of mine.” He made me a traitor. Left me with nothing, with no one. Then he threw me out of his world like a piece of trash. It was worse than a bullet. It killed my heart. My hand went limp. The knife fell from my fingers. Katerina was still glaring at me with pure hate. I didn’t care anymore. Marco came forward and grabbed my arm without ceremony. Two guards disarmed me. They dragged me through the manicured lawns, past the fountains, and out the main gates like a bag of trash. They threw me onto the cold asphalt, and I heard the gates begin to close behind me, sealing off two worlds. I laughed. Then I started coughing up blood. A black Mercedes pulled up silently beside me. The door opened. It was one of my father’s men. “Miss. Get in.” On the back seat was a briefcase. Inside was a new set of identity papers. The photo was me. The name was Bella Fiore. Occupation: Art Dealer. Place of Birth: Florence, Italy. “And this,” the driver said, handing me a new phone. I took it. Then I took out my old phone. The screen lit up. The first name on my contact list was Vincenzo. Next to it was a small red heart I had put there myself. I looked at the name. My finger slid down the screen. Marco, Tony, Dr. Castellano… every name was a piece of my past, written in blood and fire. My face was a blank mask. I started deleting. One by one. Photos. Messages. Call logs. Gone. Finally, only Vincenzo’s name was left. I held my finger on it. A confirmation box popped up. My finger paused over the “Delete” button for a second. Then I pressed it. O’Hare International Airport, VIP lounge. My father sat across from me. He handed me a coffee. “Ready?” he asked. “Ready,” I said. I took out the black diamond phoenix necklace, the one that had fallen into the blood at the party. It had once been my most treasured possession. I looked at it. At the broken, blood-stained bird. Then I stood up, walked to the trash can in the lounge, and opened my hand. It landed with a soft, dull thud. Like my ten dead years. The boarding announcement came over the speakers. “Now boarding, flight to Florence.” I stood and grabbed my carry-on. I pulled the SIM card from my old phone. Between my thumb and forefinger, I snapped the small piece of plastic in two. The pieces joined the necklace in the trash. I slid on my sunglasses, turning my face toward the gate. “I’m ready, Papa.” I took my father’s arm and walked toward the gate. Behind me, the lights of Chicago burned bright. A city of ghosts. It had nothing to do with me anymore. Chiara Rossi was dead. And I was walking away from her grave.