Chapter 2
Serena's POV
Three days.
That's how long it took for the New York underworld to catch fire with the rumor. A monumental wedding between the Gambino and Costa syndicates.
Naturally, everyone assumed the bride standing next to Matteo would be me.
Because in our world, blood pacts are sealed until the formal announcement. Only the signers know whose name is actually on that parchment.
And Matteo? The arrogant prick never even bothered to check the signature. He just assumed I'd rather die than leave him.
2:00 PM. The VIP lounge of a Fifth Avenue jeweler.
I sat on a velvet sofa, sipping black coffee. Watching the pathetic little soap opera ahead of me with dead-eyed calm.
Matteo stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Glued to his side, rubbing against his arm like a cat in heat, was Anna.
Around her neck rested a three-million-dollar emerald necklace.
The exact necklace Matteo had promised me for our engagement.
"Wow, this is stunning!" Anna spun around, thrusting her chest out. She shot me a gloating look. "Matteo says emeralds suit my pale skin best. You're not mad, are you, Serena? I mean... I know this was supposed to be yours."
Pure, blatant provocation.
Last time, I snapped. I threw a massive fit right here in this room.
And Matteo? He didn't defend me. He humiliated me in front of the staff, barking about how I lacked the grace of a true Donna. I became the laughingstock of New York high society.
But now? She just looked like a cheap clown playing dress-up.
"Mad?" I took a slow sip of my coffee. "It's a rock, Anna. Keep it. I've got vaults full of better shit at home. Besides, if I said no, you'd just cry until you found a way to steal it behind my back anyway."
"You—" Anna's face drained. Right on cue, the tears swelled. She buried her face in Matteo's chest. "Matteo, listen to her! How could she be so cruel..."
Matteo's face went dark. He crossed the room in three strides, towering over me.
"Watch your fucking mouth, Serena," he ordered, glaring. "She's my sister. What's the big deal if I buy her a damn necklace? You're getting vicious. Where the hell is the understanding woman I'm supposed to marry?"
I set my cup down. Clink.
Then I stood up, looking him dead in the eye.
"Understanding?" I said flatly. "We're practically at the altar, and you're using syndicate funds to buy a three-million-dollar piece for a girl who shares zero of your blood. You want me to clap for you?"
I grabbed my coat. "Bullshit. I don't have time to watch you two play house."
"Stop." Matteo's hand clamped around my wrist like a vice.
It hurt like hell. But underneath his anger, real panic flickered in his eyes. My total detachment was driving him insane.
He took a breath. Pivoted to his usual strategy—tossing me breadcrumbs to keep me in line.
"Alright, Serena, stop making a scene," he muttered. "Look, I know you're pissed. How about this... you wanted to see that opera at the Met, right? Carmen? I'll take you tonight. Just you and me. You happy?"
Looking at his smug face made my stomach churn.
Last time, I practically begged him to take me to the Met for our anniversary. He spent the entire first act scrolling on his phone. Midway through the second, Anna texted about a "panic attack." He walked out immediately.
Left me sitting alone in the VIP box. Humiliated.
"Don't even bother." I violently yanked my wrist free. "I don't want a man sitting next to me whose mind is always on someone else. It's a waste of my time. It's pathetic." I turned away. "Enjoy your shopping. I've got shit to do."
I didn't wait to see his reaction. I pushed through the glass doors and walked right out into the biting winter wind.
I locked my bedroom door the second I got back to the estate.
I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out an envelope I'd kept buried for months.
My Columbia Law School acceptance letter.
Staring at the gold-foiled crest, the back of my eyes burned. Last time, I ripped this to shreds for him. This time, it was my way out.
I cracked open my laptop. Logged into the portal. Clicked Accept.
Then, I started dismantling my life.
I quietly liquidated my personal assets, washed the funds, and wired everything to an untraceable Swiss account.
Finally, a one-way ticket to Boston. Columbia Law had a prep-program in Cambridge, and I had already filed for an early transfer. I was leaving this blood-soaked city for good.
I was just zipping up my suitcase when my phone buzzed.
Unknown number. Boston area code.
I answered. "Hello?"
"Miss Costa?" The voice was low, smooth, and laced with quiet authority. "This is Lucas Valenti. Your advisor at the law school."
My heart skipped a beat.
Lucas Valenti.
Even in the underworld, that name was an absolute myth. Ten years ago, he was the ruthless heir to the bloodiest Italian syndicate on the East Coast. Then he did the impossible: he wiped his hands clean, liquidated his empire, and became a billionaire tycoon and a top-tier law professor. He was the only man in our world who had ever traded a throne of blood for a corporate empire and actually lived to tell the tale.
"Professor Valenti," I kept my voice steady.
A low chuckle vibrated through the speaker. "I reviewed your file. A Costa girl stepping through the doors of a law school. Interesting."
My grip on the phone tightened. A sudden spike of defensive unease hit me—was he going to reject my transfer? "I assure you, Professor," I said carefully, "my family's... business won't be following me to campus. I'm just here for the degree."
"Relax, Miss Costa. I'm not calling to interrogate you," Lucas continued smoothly, a faint amusement lingering in his tone. "I actually crossed paths with your mother a long time ago. When your name landed on my desk, I figured I should check in. Make sure your transition out of New York goes smoothly."
He paused for a beat, his tone shifting to something more practical. "Besides, the snow is coming down heavy in Boston this week. If you need a place to crash and settle in early, I have a vacant apartment in Back Bay. The keys are yours if you want them."
I looked out my window at the grey New York skyline. For the first time in two lifetimes, the heavy chains around my neck finally snapped.
A real smile touched my lips.
"Thank you, Professor," I said. "I think I'm going to really like the snow in Boston."
