After I demanded that Lorenzo's foster sister answer for driving a needle into my arm for half an hour, pretending it was medicine, my private photos surfaced across the city the next day, being passed around for six dollars each.
Clutching my bruised and swollen hand, I went to find Lorenzo, only to catch his voice drifting out from a rented room above a Family club, tangled with laughter and the clink of glasses.
"Hey, anyone want a pair of Adriana's little rabbits?"
"I do, I do! Lorenzo, you're too generous, letting the brothers feast their eyes like this!"
"By the way, Lorenzo, you're not worried that after passing Adriana's photos around the whole city, she'll break the betrothal or make a scene?"
Lorenzo chuckled, lazy and low, picking up a poker chip stamped with a photo of my collarbone.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it onto the felt.
"Would she dare? The whole city has already seen her bare. Now she's probably desperate for me to marry her just to salvage what's left of her honor. How could she possibly walk away or make trouble?"
The room filled with crude, vulgar laughter. Somewhere a bottle was set down too hard.
"So, Lorenzo, are you actually going to marry her? If not, once you're finished with her, why not let us have a turn? And what did Adriana even do to earn all this?"
Lorenzo, who had been lounging with an air of indifference, sat up straighter. His voice turned cold with disdain.
"She threw a fit because Bianca poked her a few extra times during an injection. She knows Bianca is still an apprentice, still learning the apothecary's trade, and still she has the nerve to demand an apology and shame her in front of people. She needed to be put in her place. Otherwise she might start thinking she's someone who matters."
A photo of me, bare, exposed, landed on the table with a dull thud. My breath caught in my throat.
——
"Hey, Lorenzo, why price them at six dollars each? That's far too cheap. I'd pay a hundred for the whole set. Even a single rose off a street corner costs more than that."
Lorenzo curled his lip.
"I want every man in this territory to know that Adriana isn't worth a cheap rose off the street. She enjoys humiliating Bianca, doesn't she? Let's see how she likes it from the other side."
As if a thought had just struck him, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it.
A second later, fragmented, broken sounds spilled from the speaker.
"I've got videos and recordings too. Say 7.9 a clip. Who's interested?"
My heart plummeted. The tears had already begun to fall.
I knew exactly when those sounds had been recorded.
The laughter in the room grew shriller, each shout cutting deeper, each jeer a fresh blade against my skin. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of nauseating cheers.
I bit my lip hard, the taste of blood keeping me grounded.
Lorenzo Vitale was someone I had chased for a long time. To everyone who watched us, he was the perfect man: attentive, considerate, always putting me first. A rising soldier in his Family with the manners of a gentleman.
For four years, his hunger had always burned intensely.
He had all sorts of little preferences, too. He loved buying costumes for me to wear, obsessing over every detail.
I had always assumed it was because they excited him.
I never realized the real reason was that they made recording easier.
The laughter in the room grew sharper, each sound slicing through my skin like a blade. A chill crept up my spine.
Not long ago, when the weather turned cold without warning, I came down with a fever.
No matter how much medicine I took, the symptoms wouldn't fade. Lorenzo, ever the doting man, had insisted on driving me himself to the Family infirmary where his foster sister worked.
Until then, I had only ever heard Bianca Vitale's name in passing, mentioned by Lorenzo and his friends.
