Chapter 2

Valentina's POV

I followed the runner to the iron gates of the Russo Estate. While he waited for the armed guards to pat him down, my spirit drifted effortlessly through the bulletproof glass.

The estate was a fortress draped in white roses and excess. Made men in tailored suits rushed through the marble corridors, while servers carried crystal champagne flutes. A single glance was all it took to see how fiercely Dante cherished Isabella.

Inside the master study, Dante and my adopted sister, Isabella, were sitting on a leather chesterfield couch.

Isabella leaned into his chest with practiced familiarity.

"Dante, this was supposed to be her big day. Now that I’m taking her place at the altar... I know she’s hurting, but I’m just so scared. You know how she gets. I honestly don't know what she's capable of doing to me out of spite."

Always the same script.

I never understood where Isabella's venom toward me came from. I had been the one to pull her out of a crack house when a rival crew came to kill her. I begged my father, Don Salvatore, to take her in. Because of me, she rose from a street rat to a respected daughter of the Falcone family.

But from the day she took my name, she never stopped setting me up, chipping away at my parents' love until nothing was left.

Dante scoffed softly, his hand tracing Isabella's shoulder.

"Relax. Valentina wouldn't dare. If three years shoveling shit in the kennels hasn't broken her, I have plenty of ways to force her hand. Besides..."

A confident, arrogant smirk touched Dante's lips.

"Valentina loves me too much. All it takes is a little coaxing. I even bought her that vintage Steinway piano she always wanted. She won't bear to keep acting out and making me look bad in front of the Commission."

So, souls really can still feel pain.

I stared blankly, my ghostly hand pressed to my aching chest.

Isabella's gaze followed his toward the grand piano sitting in the corner of the room. A flash of dark jealousy crossed her eyes before she forced a sweet smile.

I looked at the piano, too. It was beautiful. But the irony gutted me. My fingers had been repeatedly broken by the yard bosses; I would never play again.

My thoughts were shattered as security finally shoved the dock runner into the study.

"Boss," the man stammered, terrified. "The foreman was doing rounds at the shipping yards and found a woman's body. When he saw it was Valentina, he sent me with her pendant."

He placed the bloody Falcone crest pendant onto the mahogany desk.

Dante stared at it. A cold, dismissive laugh escaped his throat.

"Three years eating dirt and she still hasn't learned obedience, but she's certainly grasped theatrics," Dante sneered. "Tell me, how much cash did she slip you to play this part? Faking her own death just to spite me? Fucking pathetic."

His face darkened into a furious scowl. He waved a hand, ordering his muscle to throw the kid out.

"Tell Valentina she's got one last chance to do the right thing. If she misses tomorrow, she's dead to me for good!"

As the runner was dragged out, Isabella's eyes brimmed with perfectly timed tears.

"Dante, maybe we should just call off the wedding. I can’t believe my sister would pull a stunt like this, even using the Falcone crest pendant she swore she'd never part with... she hates me that much."

"Call it off? Not a chance in hell," a stern voice echoed.

My father and mother. The Don and Donna of the Falcone family strode into the room. They looked vibrant, untouchable. Alive.

I flinched out of habit.

"Don't let her get in your head, Little Gem," The pet name slipped effortlessly from my father's lips as he looked at Isabella.

I watched in silent horror. They hadn't just taken my inheritance and my freedom. They had completely erased my place in this family, giving it to my tormentor.

"Besides, that trinket isn't even the real Falcone crest pendant," my mother said, walking over to squeeze Isabella's hands. "The real one—the one that stopped the bullet meant for your father—is the one he gave to you. We only lied to Valentina back then because we knew her jealousy would drive her to put a hit out on you."

My chest hollowed out.

For three years, the guilt of letting my loyalists die in that crossfire because I loved Dante had eaten me alive. Believing that pendant had stopped the bullet meant for my father, I had treated it as my anchor to my family.

Now, even that anchor was an illusion.

My mother patted Isabella's shoulder. "Don't stress. Your father and I will make sure tomorrow goes off without a hitch."

Dante nodded. "I gave you my word. Nothing stops this wedding."

He turned toward the door, barking at his enforcer. "Find that dock runner and send word to Valentina. She is to be here by 7:00 AM sharp. If she’s not, tell her to consider herself exiled. She’s dead to this city."

Floating near the ceiling, I stared down at them, my eyes empty.

But Dante, I thought soundlessly, I'm already in a body bag.