Before I could even say no, Lorenzo pressed the pills to my lips. "Come on, be a good girl. Let your husband feed you."
The bitter medicine slipped into my mouth as he half-forced it in. That sticky, nauseating taste spread instantly and the next thing I knew, the world spun around me. Taking advantage of my dizziness, Lorenzo caught my hand in his. "Tesoro, today is Bianca's celebration. The whole Family will be there. Her one wish is your blessing. If you don't come, word travels through the territory that you're a petty thing who won't accept her own sister. I'll go. Just have my clothes laid out." His thumb moved once, twice, along the edge of his signet ring, faster than a man at peace with himself. I didn't know yet what that tell meant. It had already cost me everything.
I knew Lorenzo had it all arranged, down to the last chair at the table. He wasn't going to leave me a single opening, so there was no point in arguing. Just then my mother came in and caught the tail end of it. Her face lifted. "My sweet girl, I knew you were the sensible one." Her fingers found the edge of her mourning shawl and rubbed the fabric slow between them. "Once Bianca's night is behind us, I'll see to your union with Lorenzo myself." She said it smiling, as though absolution came cheap.
I numbly pulled my hand back. At that moment, my heart felt like it had turned to ash. The car brought us to the estate quickly. The moment I was helped down onto the gravel, a swarm of camera flashes broke over me all at once. I panicked and reached for Mamma's hand and closed on nothing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her walking briskly away with Bianca folded in her arm, not sparing me a glance. My face went pale. I lowered my head and clutched my hat tight against it.
"Signorina Barone, we hear you feared your own sister would take the showcase from you, so you set the fire yourself to burn her alive, only it turned on you and marked your own face. Is that the truth?"
"Signorina Barone, a viper like you still dares walk into your sister's celebration? Have you no shame at all?"
"Signorina Barone, you twist so pretty on the runway. How could a girl like you fear losing to anyone? Or is it the men keeping you who've stopped being satisfied?"
As one of them spoke, another lunged and tore the hat from my head. A gasp went through the crowd in one breath. My burned, ruined face stood exposed under the hard white glare of their cameras.
"Dio, that's revulsion itself. Is that a monster?"
"I'm going to be sick. So hideous, like meeting a ghost in broad daylight."
My heart pounded and my vision started sliding to black in slow waves. They had no mercy in them. Phones went up all around me, and the live streams began, carrying my face to every corner of the territory.
"The famous Barone girl. Rotten and cruel to the bone. Tried to burn her own sister and got scorched for it instead. They say there isn't a clean patch of skin left on her. Let's see what the wages of sin really look like."
Someone shoved me and I went down onto the stone. The loose clothing I wore tore away easily. My arms, my thighs, my stomach, all of it bared to them. A hoarse, broken sob dragged out of my throat. Then my hands and my feet began to shake, past all my will. My whole body jolted as though a live current ran through it.
The ones tearing at me seemed to scent something new, and shouted, giddy with it. "She's having a fit. This is gold. Quick, get in close, get the shot, all of it."
My eyes rolled back with the pain and white foam kept spilling from my mouth. I knew the drug had taken hold, and there was nothing left in me to fight it. Like a jester stripped bare in front of the whole Family, I let them shred every last thread of my dignity. Then someone shrieked. A warm liquid ran out from beneath me and a foul, sour stench filled the air at once. The humiliation was so vast I couldn't even weep through it. I wished only to die there on the ground.
While they went on with their disgust and their insults, the flashes bore down on my lower body, snapping without end. I lay there like a dead dog, without a shred of strength left to struggle. "What are you doing. Who gave you leave to take pictures like that?"
