Before I could answer—
They appeared.
All six of them.
And Enzo.
My heart sank instantly.
Don Montecarlo's gaze shifted to them, sharp and questioning. "Did you attack Seraphina?"
Enzo sighed, already looking annoyed. "Seraphina, not tonight. I told you, we'd talk later."
The Old Don raised his hand, silencing him without even looking his way. "Kids?"
"It was just a prank," Nico said smoothly, without hesitation.
"Apologize," Don Montecarlo ordered firmly.
Gianna stepped forward, her expression shifting instantly into innocence, her eyes wide and soft. "We're sorry, Aunty Seraphina. We didn't mean it."
"Yeah, sorry," Matteo added quickly. "We even brought you a gift."
My body went rigid.
A gift.
Gianna held out a neatly wrapped red box, her smile sweet and harmless. "You'll love it," she said.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me not to take it.
Not to touch it.
But Enzo's gaze hardened, warning, pressuring. "They apologized, Seraphina. Don't be petty."
Don Montecarlo nodded gently. "Accept their apology. Children make mistakes."
My hands trembled as I reached out, slowly peeling back the ribbon. My breathing grew shallow, uneven.
The moment I lifted the lid—
The world tilted.
A scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it.
Inside the box—
Miso.
My puppy.
Lying completely still. Lifeless.
His soft white fur… soaked in red.
And beneath his small, fragile body—
Another note.
"You'll be next if you don't leave."
The box slipped from my hands, crashing to the ground.
Everything spun.
Enzo froze. Don Montecarlo murmured something in shock.
And the children…
They simply smirked.
Then turned away.
As if none of it mattered.
As if he had never mattered.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't see.
All I could see…
Was Miso's lifeless eyes staring back at me.
Don Montecarlo's cane slammed against the marble floor with a sharp, bone-rattling crack as he stepped forward, the sound echoing through the hall and silencing everything in an instant. Two soldiers by the far door straightened. A conversation across the room died mid-word.
"Who did this?" His voice carried no trace of weakness. It was cold, commanding, and filled with restrained fury.
No one answered.
The six children stood there with their heads lowered, shoulders tense, putting on the perfect act of innocence. Anyone else might have believed them.
But I saw it.
I saw Gianna's lips twitch slightly, the faintest hint of a cruel smile before she quickly hid it. Her chin tilted up and to the left, just barely, the same angle I'd seen when she delivered her worst words. Then she caught herself and let it drop.
Enzo looked pale, his composure cracking. "I… I didn't know. I swear."
Don Montecarlo turned to him slowly, his gaze cutting like a blade. "Do not swear, Enzo. Your ignorance is your shame."
I held Miso closer, his small body limp in my arms. His white fur was soaked red, sticky against my skin. My tears fell onto his face, but he did not move. He never would again. My left hand found my wrist, fingers pressing down hard against the bare skin where my mother's bracelet once sat, pressing until the pressure burned, until it was the only thing I could feel besides the grief.
"He was just a puppy," I whispered, my voice breaking apart. "He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't deserve this."
Don Montecarlo's cane struck the ground again, louder this time, filled with anger. He gripped the silver head with both hands and rested his chin on his knuckles, and the room went still in a way that had nothing to do with the hour and everything to do with what that posture meant. Every man in the family who had seen it before felt their mouths go dry.
"You think this is a joke?" he thundered, his voice echoing across the hall. "You think harming the innocent is something to laugh about?"
The children flinched.
"You will each receive twenty lashes tonight," he continued without hesitation. "For one full month, you will have no outings, no toys, no entertainment of any kind. You will rise at dawn and scrub this entire estate until your hands bleed."
Gianna gasped, lifting her head. "But Grandpa—"
"Silence," he snapped.
"But it was just a prank—"
"A prank?" Don Montecarlo's voice rose, filled with disbelief and rage. "You call this a prank? Taking the life of a helpless creature? Shame on all of you."
Enzo tried to say something, but the Old Don silenced him with a single look. The same look that had once stripped a capo of his territory in front of twenty men without a word being spoken.
"This is my house," Don Montecarlo said firmly. "And Seraphina is still family under this roof. If she wishes it, I will throw every one of you out myself."
Enzo froze, clearly shaken.
For a fleeting moment, something stirred inside me. A faint sense of protection.
But it came far too late.
Nothing could undo what had already happened.
I stood up slowly and walked past them, ignoring their whispers, ignoring the hatred in their eyes. I did not look back.
In the garden, beneath the dim night sky, I knelt down and began digging with my bare hands.
