The entire time I was locked in that basement, I refused to apologize.
The sealed space made it hard to breathe. All I could do was curl into myself as tightly as possible, searching for some small scrap of comfort. The walls were raw concrete, the kind they poured for wine cellars in the old compound but never finished. Somewhere above me, floorboards creaked under the weight of soldiers doing their rounds.
Then a pair of leather shoes appeared in front of me. Vittorio stood over me, looking down. "Ready to admit you were wrong?"
I thought of the graves, leveled to nothing, and the stubbornness in me held. "I wasn't wrong. Vittorio, you know that plot of land—"
He cut me off before I could finish. "I know."
"Serafina wanted it. So I gave it to her."
I stared up at him, eyes wide. "You gave it to her?"
In that moment, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. Not the Don of the Falcone Family. Not the man whose name made soldiers stand straighter in every borough of Crestfall. A stranger. Someone whose face I recognized but whose soul I no longer did.
Vittorio shrugged it off. "Serafina is beautiful and kind. If she hadn't carried me out of those mountains, I probably wouldn't be alive today."
"Bianca, all you have to do is admit you were wrong, and I'll let you out."
The mountains? Serafina saved him?
Three years ago, when Vittorio was stranded in the mountains after a deal gone wrong near the border, I was the one who hauled him out. Step by step, his weight on my back, through the snow. The blood from his side had soaked through my coat by the time we reached the road. He survived. I ended up in the hospital for two weeks. When I finally woke up, the first thing I learned was that he'd been carrying on with Serafina behind my back the entire time. That was what ended our marriage.
But how had the person who saved him become Serafina?
I opened my mouth. "Vittorio, maybe you should look into—"
"Don Falcone, please don't be hard on her. It's all my fault. I lost my footing and fell on my own. She absolutely did not push me…"
Serafina clicked over in her heels and positioned herself at Vittorio's side, instantly pulling every ounce of his attention. The basement door was still open behind her, and for one breath I could see the hallway light and the shadow of a soldier stepping aside to let her pass. Even in this house, she moved as if she owned it.
The moment I met her eyes, full of calculation and triumph, I understood. Serafina had stolen credit for what I'd done.
Vittorio wrapped his arm around Serafina's slim waist, his voice tender. "What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you need rest."
Serafina leaned into him, her voice a syrupy whine. "I missed you. And it looks like she still hasn't realized what she did wrong. Maybe you should toss something in there with her. I hear people confess to anything when they're scared enough."
Vittorio gave her an approving glance, then turned to the soldiers by the door. "You two. Go put my pets in there."
The word pets sent ice through my veins.
Vittorio had a particular hobby. He kept centipedes, spiders, and snakes. Cold-blooded creatures, all of them. Other men in the Family kept guard dogs or fighting breeds. Vittorio kept things that moved in silence and struck without warning. It said everything about him that I had been too blind to read.
The first time I'd seen them, I'd asked him, "They won't bite me, will they?"
Back then, Vittorio had looked me in the eye and promised, with every appearance of sincerity: "Don't worry. As long as I'm here, I will never let them hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
I never imagined this day would come so soon.
When the centipedes and spiders were released into the basement, my scalp went numb. They moved as if drawn to me, locking onto my position with terrible precision, swarming up my body in a crawling, writhing mass. Tiny, sharp stabs of pain, over and over, until I could barely think. My thumb pressed hard against the bare inside of my ring finger, but even that small anchor was disappearing under the crawling weight of them.
Vittorio's expression wavered.
Serafina pressed her fingertips to her temple, her voice going faint. "Oh no, Don Falcone, I think I'm feeling a little unwell…"
Without a word, Vittorio scooped her into his arms and walked away. His signet ring caught the light from the hallway, perfectly still on his knuckle. He did not look back.
I lifted my head just in time to catch Serafina peering back over his shoulder. Our eyes met. She mouthed the words silently: You deserve this, you worthless tramp.
I clenched my jaw and slammed my hands down on the insects, crushing every one I could reach.
Only one thought kept me alive: I am not dying here.
