Through the red blur of my vision, I looked toward Lorenzo, standing some distance away across the marble.
He stood rooted in place, fists clenched, nails biting deep into his palms. Around him the assembled Families watched in the perfect silence of Omertà, none of them lifting a hand.
When our eyes met, his lips trembled and he took half a step forward. Then Camilla seized his wrist and yanked him back.
"A cheap, thieving woman with no name deserves to be taught a lesson." Camilla's voice was like a snake's flickering tongue. Her smile came a half-beat too fast. "Isn't that right, Lorenzo?"
The sound of the clubs striking me suddenly seemed very far away.
I watched Lorenzo lower his lashes and slowly step back into place.
His knife-sharp lips parted a few times, then pressed flat into a hard, silent line.
The marble floor of the banquet hall was cold.
Just like the cement he'd stood on barefoot, that snowy night three years ago, when he was nothing but a half-dead stranger with no Family and no name to protect him.
As my consciousness began to slip, the enforcers finally sauntered over, too late.
They hauled my bloodied body toward the door, dragging a dark red smear across the imported stone.
In my daze, I heard Camilla sigh with false pity. "Take her to a doctor. After all... she's a friend of Lorenzo's, in a way."
When I woke again, the smell of disinfectant stung deep in my nose.
Lorenzo sat at my bedside, guilt on his face. His thumb moved once along the healed scar at his hairline, the old wound from the snow. "I'm sorry, Serafina. I never thought Camilla's soldiers would go so far."
"Do your wounds still hurt?"
I stared at the ceiling, hollow-eyed, and said nothing.
He spoke gently. "Don't worry. Camilla's calmed down. She won't hold you responsible anymore."
"The doctor says you'll need another ten days or so before they let you leave. I'll stay with you the whole time."
"Just rest and heal."
Right then, his phone rang.
He glanced at the number, then rose and stepped out to the balcony and shut the door behind him.
I could just barely make out Camilla's voice through the glass, urging him on.
"Lorenzo, the plane's about to board. Why aren't you here yet?"
"We agreed we'd travel together to the sit-down banquet down south, didn't we? The Dons are expecting both bloodlines."
Lorenzo hesitated a few seconds, then said slowly, "I'm on my way. I'll be there soon."
He came back into the room.
"I'm sorry, Serafina. Something urgent came up with the Family. I have to travel for a few days."
"The moment I'm back, I'll come see you first thing."
And then he hurried out.
Watching his retreating figure, I felt not the faintest ripple inside.
Just then, a message came to my phone, telling me my visa had come through.
I quietly put my clothes on and left the satchel of untraceable cash beneath the pillow, every bill of it untouched.
I pressed my thumb flat against the inside of my bare left wrist, where a woman who belonged to someone would have worn a Family's gold, and where I wore nothing at all. Then I blocked every one of Lorenzo's contacts, forced my body upright, and limped out into the night, belonging to no one.
