The alliance union was to be sealed at my own house in Eastlake. It had been Bianca's idea. I knew she'd chosen it so I would have to watch, room by room, as everything that carried my name was stripped from the bloodline and handed to her. Even so, I hadn't measured the depth of her venom. She swept into my room draped in a wedding gown worth more than most men's lives, her face folding into that nasty sneer. "Not even that fire could finish you, Adriana. You really are one tough little cockroach."
I didn't want to spend words on her. "You've already taken everything you wanted. What more do you want?"
She scoffed. "Of course, I want you dead. Only when you're dead can I rightfully become the Falcone bride."
Then she drew a lighter from her sleeve and set the curtains alight. The instant the flames climbed, the colour drained from my face. I dragged my broken body across the floor, trying to reach her, and she kicked me hard into the bedpost. She bolted for the door and began screaming for help. Lorenzo appeared as if the walls had spat him out. He caught Bianca against his chest, all worry. "Bianca, what's wrong? Where are you hurt?"
My mother came in behind him. Even though there wasn't a mark on Bianca anywhere, she still cried out, rubbing the fringe of her mourning shawl between two fingers, "Quick, get Bianca to the doctors!"
Every soul in the room folded around Bianca. Not one of them noticed she'd slammed me hard enough to open my scalp. Bianca burrowed into Lorenzo's arms, weeping with wide, frightened eyes, her tears holding off a flicker too long before she remembered to let them fall. "Lorenzo, I only wanted to comfort my sister, I knew she was upset. But she said since her face was ruined, I didn't deserve to wear a beautiful gown either. Then she started the fire. She said she'd burn me past recognition too. I was so afraid..."
Lorenzo looked at me like he wanted to tear me apart. "Are you insane? Bianca was only trying to help you see the union through. Instead of gratitude, you try to harm her? Look at yourself. You're disgusting."
My mother's eyes filled with disappointment. "If I'd known how twisted you are, I'd have let that fire burn you to death. You're not worth one of Bianca's fingers. Someone this malicious doesn't deserve to be my daughter. You deserved to burn."
They lifted Bianca and left without a backward glance. At the threshold Lorenzo turned once toward the flames licking up the curtains and sneered. "You love playing with fire so much? Then play to your heart's content." He pulled the door shut. His thumb moved once along the edge of his signet ring, faster than a man at peace. "No one opens this."
My desperate cries for a hearing, for mercy, were cut off by the cold slam of the door. Behind it the frantic banging kept on, and a thread of unease flickered in my mother's eyes. Her fingers worked the shawl again. "Lorenzo, is it truly all right to lock Adriana in there? Won't something happen?"
"What could happen? She set the fire herself. You think she'd really burn herself alive? She's got an extinguisher stashed somewhere." Lorenzo carried Bianca straight to the Family's private doctors. When the examination confirmed she was entirely unharmed, he finally remembered me. He exhaled and lifted his phone, and an alert flooded the screen: word running through the territory of a massive fire at the Eastlake estate.
He frowned and was about to call the caretaker when the caretaker's call came through first. "Let her out," he said. "I'll go for her now. We're leaving for the honeymoon. I've already chosen the place. France. Her favourite."
On the other end, Enzo Ricci's voice trembled, and behind the words came the small tortured sound of a keyring gripped until it bit. "Sir, the fire was too great. Madam... she didn't make it out."
