Liliana's POV
That night, I couldn't speak. I just sat there, staring at the stained walls of the holding cell, numb.
I'd been arrested for submitting a forged passport. And the one person who should have saved me? He threw me to the wolves.
"You got anyone to call?" the guard asked, locking the cell door behind him. The bolt echoed through the concrete corridor like a gunshot.
I nodded silently. My heart was hollow. My cheeks were crusted with dried tears. My throat raw from screaming and begging.
"One call. Don't waste it." He slid a phone through the bars.
I tapped in the number. It rang once.
"Hello? Who is this?" My mother's voice sounded over the receiver.
Relief flooded me.
"Hi, Mom. I need your help."
"Liliana? Why are you calling from a strange number? Where are you?" my mother asked worriedly.
"It's a long story. There was a mix-up. I've been arrested."
"What?!" she shouted. "Who dares lay a hand on you?! Do they know who you are?!"
Even through the static of the prison phone, I could hear it. Not just a mother's panic. The cold fury of Cosima Valentino, a woman who had held territory together while her husband's heart failed him, who had kept rival families from smelling blood in the water for fifteen years. When she said do they know who you are, it was not a question. It was a threat she expected me to relay.
"Please, just talk to Dad. I need out of here. And a new passport. In my name."
She paused.
"Alright, baby girl. Hang in there. You'll be out soon."
The line disconnected.
The guard gave me a suspicious look, then left. A while later, he returned with a bitter update.
"Nobody's available to process your release tonight. You stay till morning."
I didn't answer. I climbed onto the narrow spring bed, curling into myself. But every time I closed my eyes, I heard Giacomo's voice. Nadina's laugh. Pietro's silence. And their baby's cries.
They'd taken everything from me. In five days, I'd be gone. And when I left, they'd regret it.
Around midnight, I drifted off.
I woke to scraping metal.
My eyes opened just as the cell door creaked.
Seven women stepped in.
My heart stopped.
Before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.
"Nadina sends her warmest regards," one of them sneered.
And then the beating began.
Fists rained down. Kicks to my ribs. Fingers clawed at my skin. One bit my shoulder, another yanked my hair until I screamed. This was a contracted hit inside the walls. Paid for, arranged, delivered with the efficiency of someone who had done this before. There was nothing random about it. Seven women, midnight, an unlocked cell. Someone had greased the right palms.
I whimpered and tried to fight, but it was useless.
When they were done, I was barely breathing. My body throbbed. Blood soaked the floor. I heard faint shouting, guards rushing in, and then everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes, everything smelled like antiseptic.
The sharp beeping of machines echoed beside me. I was in a hospital. Pain lit up every nerve in my body.
"Don't sit up," a voice warned.
I turned slowly.
The same doctor. The one who'd warned me before.
"How do you feel?"
I tried to shrug. My shoulders screamed.
"Terrible," I rasped.
My voice was gone. My throat was shredded.
"You were in critical condition. You've been unconscious for three days."
"Good," I whispered. "Two more days to go."
He frowned.
"No, Liliana. This isn't good. I warned you. And now… I'm sorry, but you'll never be able to carry a child again."
I stared at the doctor without blinking, my heart already numb. My hands subconsciously touched my stomach and a small whimper escaped my lips.
"I'm so sorry, Liliana," the doctor said. "The bleeding was too much. It was the only way to save your life."
I was heartbroken and devastated but still the tears couldn't drop. I let out a sigh. They'd taken everything from me and left me with nothing. I'll do the same to them.
My thumb found the inside of my left wrist. I pressed into the scars there, the ones from the broken glass, still fresh beneath the bruises. The pain was the only thing that felt real. The only thing that was mine.
The doctor handed me my phone.
"It's been ringing nonstop for three days," he said. "Please take care of yourself."
I took my phone and saw several missed calls from my mom including messages and pictures.
Where are you, Liliana? What happened? Your father got you released but the guard said you had an accident. Please call me.
Liliana, your father has done what you asked and you've gotten a new passport. I sent a picture below and mailed the passport to you.
Liliana, I'm worried about you. Your flight has been booked. You leave in two days, call me!
I stared at the screen for a moment, then typed the only thing I could.
Thank you so much, Mommy. I'm fine, just tidying things up here. See you soon.
As I hit send, the door opened and Nadina walked inside with her baby in a stroller.
"Oh, Liliana, imagine my happiness when the doctor told me you're awake," Nadina gushed in a fake cheerful voice. She moved through the hospital room like she owned it, the same way she moved through every room. Two fingertips drifted to the hollow of her throat as she smiled.
I glared at her, my eyes blank. "What do you want?"
"I just brought you lunch. The boys were just messing with you by leaving you there. They didn't know you'd be hurt."
She set down a flask. Pulled out a steaming bowl.
I recoiled. Seafood. She knew I was allergic.
"Leave me alone," I said through clenched teeth. "Before I strangle you."
Her smile turned sharp.
"But I'm not done yet, love. You're not dead."
She leaned in and shoved the plate closer. The smell made my stomach twist.
I swatted it away, reacting on instinct.
The plate shattered as Nadina screamed, staring at her baby in horror.
I turned toward the baby's cries. My eyes fell on a tiny shard embedded in the infant's hand. My fingers froze as I saw the blood on the baby's hand.
And then the door burst open. Giacomo and Pietro staring down at me like I'd just committed murder.
"What's going on here?" Giacomo snapped.
