"Luna, just let me know Massimo's favorite foods, and we'll adjust the Academy menu to suit his taste from now on."
Luna basked in it. Soaked it in like sunlight.
I watched from across the courtyard, and the rage inside me was so cold it felt like nothing at all.
Davide had freeloaded off my family for years, doing nothing of value. To give him some purpose, some dignity he hadn't earned, I'd handed him oversight of the smallest territory the Valente Syndicate controlled. A few blocks of legitimate businesses. A modest revenue stream. Enough to make him feel like a man without giving him enough rope to hang anyone.
I never expected it would become Luna Caruso's crown.
The moment they saw me, the warmth drained from every face. The women who had been flattering Luna seconds ago turned toward me with expressions of open disgust.
It was as if I were something filthy and repulsive.
The teacher detached herself from Luna's circle and walked toward me, her heels clicking against the stone. Her face was cold. Practiced. The kind of cold that comes from choosing a side and committing to it fully.
"Ms. Valente," she said, and even the way she used my name sounded like an accusation, "I've been instructed by the headmaster to inform you that Emilia is expelled, effective immediately."
I glared at her. Emilia's fingers tightened on my sleeve.
"My daughter was attacked," I said, my voice low and even. "Instead of seeking justice for her, you're expelling her?"
The teacher's expression didn't change. "This is an elite academy. The children who attend here come from powerful families. Respected families." She paused, letting the implication settle. "A child born from a homewrecker like you staying here would only damage our reputation."
The courtyard had gone quiet. Every parent was watching. Every word carried.
My expression darkened, and I held the teacher's gaze until she blinked first.
"I suggest you investigate who the real homewrecker and illegitimate child are," I said, "before you speak another word."
The silence that followed lasted exactly two seconds.
Then Luna stormed across the courtyard toward me. I saw her hand move before I felt it. She flicked her hair behind her right ear with that sharp, practiced motion, and then she slapped me hard across the face.
The sound cracked through the quiet like a gunshot.
"How dare a filthy homewrecker like you flaunt yourself in front of me?" Her voice was shrill, pitched for the audience, every syllable rehearsed. "Did you really think having a bastard child would let you take my place as Mrs. Ferraro?"
My cheek burned. Emilia pressed her face into my leg and held on.
I didn't touch my face. I didn't step back.
I looked at Luna Caruso, and I let her see exactly what was behind my eyes. Not anger. Not hurt.
The patience of a woman who has already decided.
The slap echoed off the academy's limestone facade and hung in the air like a gunshot.
For a moment, I couldn't move. My cheek burned, and the world tilted sideways. Around me, the other parents closed ranks, their voices rising like a chorus of jackals who'd caught the scent of blood.
"You look decent enough, so why stoop to being some man's side piece and having his kid?"
"Some women play innocent. The second they see a powerful man, they go wild. Desperate to spread their legs."
"Mistresses are the shame of all women, and their kids are even worse."
The insults drew more bodies from the academy's wrought-iron gates. Parents who'd been lingering by their cars. A nanny. Two men in expensive overcoats who should have known better. They gathered in a loose semicircle, pointing, their faces twisted with the particular cruelty that comes from feeling righteous. Some pulled out phones to film. One woman spat at me. The saliva landed on the pavement by my shoe.
I looked down at it.
Then I took off my coat. Full-length cashmere, worth more than most of their cars combined. I folded it once and dropped it into the trash bin by the academy's entrance.
I turned to face Luna directly.
"First, you told your son to bully my daughter. Now you're hitting me in public." My voice was steady. Quiet. The kind of quiet that should have warned her. "Who gave you the audacity to act so lawlessly?"
Luna stood with her chin lifted, her posture borrowed from women far more powerful than she would ever be. She flicked her hair behind her right ear with that sharp, practiced motion of hers.
"It's only right for a wife to slap a mistress," she said. Her voice carried across the courtyard, pitched for an audience. "Besides, I'm the wife of the Valente Syndicate's Don. Beating you and your filthy daughter is nothing. I could take your lives, and it wouldn't matter."
