Gianna POV
A dull, brick-red flush crept up from Luca's collar, suffusing his entire face. He squeezed my arm harder, the bones of his knuckles pressing white against my skin, trying to force a reaction out of me.
"Take her to Dr. Romano," I said, and though I did not raise my voice, I pitched it to carry, each syllable a hard, polished stone tossed into the corridor's silence. "Her stomach is swollen. It looks like a lot more than just stomach cramps."
Lucia gasped, her eyes widening in a pantomime of panic. She instinctively wrapped both of her arms around her belly and her knees buckled at an unnatural angle, her body slumping downwards like a puppet whose strings had been cut, until the hem of her dress was soiled by the dirt outside my door.
"Why are you targeting me, Gianna?" Lucia sobbed, thick, deliberate tears spilling down her cheeks. "I just need help. Why are you so cruel?"
Luca pushed me aside and caught Lucia before she hit the ground. He looked up at me, and I saw a flat, reptilian deadness in his eyes that promised violence. He wrapped his arm around her waist in a gesture of blatant protection, pulling her against his chest.
"Everyone out in the yard!" Luca roared.
Within seconds, dozens of Soldiers and Associates rushed into the dusty training yard under the blazing sun. They stood at attention, their bodies held in rigid formation, waiting for their Capo's command.
"Drop!" Luca yelled, pointing at the dirt. "Two hours of physical conditioning. Planks and pushups. No water. No breaks. All because Gianna forgot what it means to be a Family. She thinks she is above the bond."
A collective groan passed through the ranks as the men fell to the baked earth. I felt their glares, a hundred points of heat on my skin. They would see me bled for this.
I walked out into the searing sun, dropped to the dirt, and held a plank position.
The scorching heat baked my skin, and sweat stung my eyes. My muscles screamed in agony, but I kept my mouth shut. I endured the pain in total silence.
Luca stood in the border of shade, watching me with a thin, cruel line of amusement that did not reach his eyes.
"Please, Luca," Lucia cried out, her voice a piercing, theatrical wail that scraped against the silence. She leaned against the wall, a carefully composed portrait of fragile innocence. "Please spare them. It is my fault. Do not punish the others because Gianna hates me."
"Shut up, you manipulative bitch," a Soldier hissed under his breath. His words were directed at me, not her. "Just take her to the damn washroom, Gianna!"
Luca walked over to me. He crouched down, grabbed a handful of my hair, and forced my head back.
"Listen to me very carefully," he whispered, his hot breath hitting my face. "You are going to escort her to the washroom right now. If you refuse again, I will keep these men out here until nightfall. They will bleed, and they will blame you."
I looked at the men. Their faces were red, their arms shaking. They would kill me in my sleep tonight if I kept this up.
I realized I could not avoid the trap. I had to walk right into it and find a way to burn it down from the inside.
"Fine," I gasped, wrenching my hair out of his grip. "I will take her."
