Serena POV
Rosa's hands—scarred across the knuckles from years of combat training—shook me awake with surprising gentleness.
My limbs felt like they'd been filled with wet cement. The Somnus Decay was accelerating.
I forced a smile and blamed fatigue. Before she could retreat to the kitchen, I caught her wrist and ran my thumb over the ridges of her calluses.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything, Rosa. For spending your whole life standing between me and the blood."
She blinked, and a flicker of something—guilt, maybe—passed through her dark eyes before she squeezed my hand.
"You're my sister, Serena. You're the only good thing I have left."
An hour later, Dominic arrived.
He moved through the penthouse like a shifting weather system, his presence sucking the warmth from the air. His tailored suit emphasized the lethal geometry of his frame—broad shoulders, narrow waist, hands that had ended lives without a second thought.
He handed a large string-tied box to one of his trailing guards. Without a word, Rosa went to the vestibule to take his coat.
When she returned, her lipstick was smeared and her lips were swollen.
I felt my airway seal shut. But I kept my expression perfectly, naively blank—the face of the sheltered girl they both believed me to be.
Dominic presented the box. Inside was a custom cake from the Family's front bakery.
It was identical to the one Rosa had ordered for me last week.
"Wow," I said, forcing brightness into my voice. "You two really do have a telepathic connection. This is exactly what Rosa likes."
A muscle in Dominic's jaw tightened before he masked it with a smooth expression.
We sat at the long mahogany table. I talked lightly about old times—how Dominic used to shield me during the turf wars, how he'd spent years making me believe I was his chosen Queen. But I watched the way his entire body angled toward Rosa even when he was speaking to me.
I was his alibi. A convenient, fragile piece he used to stay close to the woman he actually wanted.
I chose to keep their secret. I would shoulder this weight alone, play the oblivious ornament, and let them have each other.
Rosa leaned over to light the candles. As she settled back, the flickering light caught Dominic's hand resting on the back of her chair, his thumb tracing slow circles against the fabric of her shoulder.
I reached under the table and dug my nails into my thigh until I felt the skin break.
Then I sat up and smiled.
"Presents," I demanded, becoming the spoiled girl they expected. "And I already know Rosa's will be better than yours, Dom."
Dominic's dark eyes locked onto mine. His hand slid slowly into his jacket pocket, and something unreadable passed across his face.
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