Lucia's POV
The next morning, I was dragged out of sleep by a burst of noise from the courtyard below.
Laughter. Music. Shouts layered with celebration, the kind that carried across the Ferraro estate like a warning.
My head was still heavy when I forced myself upright. Before I could fully wake, a maid knocked sharply on my door, her voice carefully neutral, the way everyone's voice went neutral inside these walls.
"Miss Lucia, Don Bruno has brought entertainers into the courtyard. He asks that you come down to watch."
Entertainers.
I let out a breath that tasted faintly of irony.
In the Ferraro house, nothing was ever only entertainment. Every display was a statement, a thing arranged to be witnessed by the whole family, soldiers and capos and cousins alike. Bruno understood that better than anyone.
And he also knew I hated crowds. Hated noise. Hated being made into spectacle.
Those things had always belonged to Adriana.
I pushed myself out of bed, my injuries protesting beneath my skin. The faint ache along my ribs reminded me that I was still healing, that I had not yet recovered from the cellar, from the fear, from the betrayal.
"I won't—" I began.
But before the words left my mouth, the door opened again.
Adriana walked in first.
She wore a pale dress that flowed like mist, her hair loose over her shoulders. Bruno stood beside her, his arm around her waist with the unconscious familiarity of a man who no longer thought about where his hands went. They looked harmonious. Like a pair the family was meant to see together.
Adriana's smile bloomed the moment she spotted me.
"Lucia," she said brightly, crossing the room in quick, light steps. She grabbed my hand, her grip warm and intimate, as though we had never been enemies. "Come on, don't sulk. Bruno arranged all of this just for you."
Her fingers tightened slightly, nails pressing into my skin. With her free hand she reached up and smoothed a strand of hair that hadn't moved at all.
"If you don't come down," she added softly, "he'll be disappointed."
Bruno stood behind her, his gaze fixed on my face. There was something in his eyes, expectation, maybe even hope, as if he truly believed this could erase everything that had happened.
"Just take a look," he said. "Alright?"
They were perfectly aligned.
I felt like prey cornered by two people who had already decided the outcome.
With Adriana pulling me forward and Bruno watching closely, I had no room to refuse. I was escorted downstairs, step by step, my feet heavy, my chest tight.
The courtyard had been transformed.
A raised stage stood at its center, family members gathered around it in excited clusters, wine glasses catching the morning light. A fire-breather stood atop the platform, flames bursting from his mouth in violent arcs that lit the air in blazing orange and red.
The heat washed over me in suffocating waves.
Something in me stirred uneasily beneath my skin.
Adriana clung to Bruno's arm as though frightened, whispering into his ear. Bruno leaned down, listening, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, wiping sweat from her brow with practiced tenderness.
They looked like the promised couple of the family.
I stood off to the side.
Invisible.
Unnecessary.
Bruno's phone rang suddenly. He murmured something to Adriana and stepped away to answer it, his back turning to the stage, the way a man does when the call matters more than the room.
That was when the unease sharpened into something lethal.
I stared at the flames, every instinct screaming. Fire had always meant something in this house. Purification. Judgment. Destruction. Nothing was ever set alight here without meaning.
Then I felt it.
Adriana's gaze.
I turned.
The sweet smile she had worn moments ago was gone. In its place was a twisted, chilling expression that made my blood run cold.
Before I could step back, she lunged.
Her hand clamped around my arm with shocking strength, far stronger than she ever pretended to be. She shoved me forward, straight toward the rope line that separated the guests from the roaring fire.
"Ah—!"
I screamed as the heat slammed into my face, my skin burning instantly. I struggled, but her grip was merciless.
Then, in a single smooth motion, she released me.
And threw herself even closer to the flames.
"Bruno!" she screamed, voice tearing through the courtyard. "Help me!"
Chaos erupted.
Bruno spun around, his phone hitting the ground as he charged forward without hesitation. He broke through the cordon, scooped Adriana into his arms, and staggered back, shielding her body with his own.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Soldiers near the wall went rigid, hands drifting toward their jackets before they understood there was no shooter, only fire.
The moment Bruno steadied himself, his expression hardened. He turned toward me, eyes blazing with fury.
Before I could speak, pain exploded across my face.
His palm struck my cheek with brutal force.
"Why did you push her?" he roared. "Are you trying to kill her?!"
My ears rang. The world tilted.
"I didn't—" I tried to say.
He didn't listen.
Bruno shoved me hard.
I stumbled backward and fell, my shoulder grazing the edge of the spreading flames. Searing pain tore through me, ripping a cry from my throat.
That sound made him freeze.
For a fraction of a second, something like hesitation flickered in his eyes. His hand rose halfway to the signet ring on his finger, and stopped.
But then Adriana clutched his chest weakly.
"Bruno… Lucia looks worse than I do," she whispered. "Take her to be looked at first…"
The hesitation vanished.
Bruno looked at me with open disgust, then turned back to Adriana as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience in his house.
"Bring her too," he ordered his men coldly. "Get the dottore."
He carried Adriana away like she was made of glass.
I lay on the ground, firelight flickering above me. The pain in my shoulder deepened, spreading through my body. My vision blurred as the enforcers rushed toward me.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me—
Was the flames still burning.
