Chapter 3

Serena

Back at the estate, I bandaged my palms with gauze from the medicine cabinet and crashed into bed.

By the time I showed up for my morning lecture, word had already spread. In our city, everyone knew who Enzo Falcone was. By noon, the rumors had completely blown up on campus.

People stared at me in the hallways. Groups on the quad went quiet when I passed.

"Did you hear? She actually went after Sienna Moretti."

"Talk about delusional. She's literally his charity case."

"Trying to sleep with the guy who practically raised her? That's sick."

I kept my eyes forward and ignored them. My face was still bruised, and my palms throbbed under the bandages, but I didn't care.

Chloe nearly threw her coffee at two fraternity guys talking trash by the lockers, but I pulled her back.

"Don't bother," I told her quietly. "It doesn't matter anyway."

With only three days left, there was no point sticking around. I emailed Professor Davis to excuse myself from the rest of the week's classes, then took an Uber back to the estate.

I hoped the house would be empty.

Instead, I walked straight into Enzo and Sienna on the leather sofa in the living room. She was practically in his lap, laughing while he poured her a drink.

I didn't say a word. I turned on my heel and took the stairs two at a time.

I had just pushed my bedroom door open when heavy footsteps came up behind me.

Enzo stepped into the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. "So you're just ignoring everyone now? Serena, cut the attitude."

He went to continue, but his stare dropped to the bandages on my hands.

His jaw tightened. "What happened to your hands?"

I shoved them straight into the pockets of my jacket and looked away.

"Nothing," I said flatly. "I'm tired. Get out."

He stared at me, clearly thrown. Usually, I'd be crying, begging him to listen, or trying to explain myself. He wasn't used to this wall of ice.

He took a step inside, his voice softening.

"Look, I shouldn't have hit you last night. I lost my temper. But you can't put your hands on Sienna and then lie to my face. You've always been a good girl, Serena. Why are you acting like this?"

I clenched my fists in my pockets, the pain flaring in my torn palms. I looked him dead in the eye.

"What am I to you, Enzo?"

He didn't hesitate. "You're family. Like a little sister. You've always known we weren't going to happen."

It felt like a cold bucket of water.

"If you love Sienna so much," I shot back, my voice trembling with cold rage, "then why did you drag me into your bed on my birthday?"

Enzo's expression went completely dark.

"You knew where I stood with Sienna," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't make this messy."

Sienna was off-limits. Just bringing her up was enough to set him off.

He took a slow breath, brushing a hand through his hair, trying to sound reasonable again.

"You've had a crush on me since you were a kid. I get it. But my life is with Sienna. You still have a home here, Serena. You're under my protection, always. Nothing has to change."

I looked at him, completely disgusted.

He really thought he could have both—his high-society mafia bride on his arm, and me locked away in his house as a convenient little plaything.

I didn't answer. I just watched him.

Enzo cleared his throat.

"I'm proposing to Sienna in three days at St. Jude's," he said. "To clear the air—and to prove to everyone that you're still family—I need you there."

Three days.

The exact day my flight was scheduled to leave.

While he was putting a ring on the woman who abandoned him, I'd be thirty thousand feet in the air, leaving his world behind.

I gave him a small, empty nod. "Okay."

Enzo exhaled, visibly relieved. He thought he had won.

"Good. I've got a lot of meetings with the family heads, so I won't be around much until the ceremony. Just wait for my text and meet us at the church."

He turned around and headed downstairs.

A minute later, I heard the front door click shut, followed by the rumble of his sports car tearing down the driveway.

Over the next two days, Enzo didn't come back once.

It made things easier. I met with Professor Davis, got my final documents stamped, and received my student visa.

On my last morning, I pulled a small black duffel bag from the closet.

I had lived in the Falcone estate for ten years. My room was filled with expensive designer clothes, watches, and jewelry Enzo had bought me over the years. I left every single piece behind.

I packed only my passport, a few basic shirts, jeans I bought with my own campus job, and my laptop.

On the way to JFK, I had the driver stop at the cemetery.

The sky was gray, a chill in the air. I laid a bouquet of white lilies at my parents' headstone.

"Mom, Dad," I said, looking down at the names carved in stone. "I'm getting out. I took the scholarship in Italy."

I knelt down and wiped some dirt off the edge of the stone.

"I won't be back for a while. But I promise you, I'm done living in someone else's shadow. I'm going to live my own life now."

I said my goodbyes, got back into the car, and headed straight to the airport.

An hour later, the plane started taxiing down the runway. When the wheels lifted off the ground, the force pressed me back against my seat.

I looked out the small window. The skyline of the city shrank beneath the clouds, turning into nothing but gray dots.

Goodbye, Enzo Falcone.