My chest feels tight, like I can’t get enough air.
The voices are screaming at me from all directions and I can barely think through the noise.
You’re embarrassing the family name,Giuseppe snarls.Giuseppe’s daughter, falling apart in front of a nobody. Pathetic.
He can see right through you,Sophia whispers venomously.He knows you’re just a scared little girl playing dress-up.
“Matteo,” I whisper desperately, barely audible. “Where are you?” But there’s only silence where his guidance should be. Why won’t he help me? Even in my own head, he’s abandoned me when I need him most.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Torres leans forward, his voice taking on a predatory quality. “You’re used to someone else making the hard decisions. Someone else telling you what to do. But daddy’s not here now, is he? And you’re realizing you don’t actually know how to do this on your own.”
I’m pacing now, my movements jerky and uncontrolled.
I press my palms against my ears, trying to block out the cacophony in my skull, but it doesn’t help.
The voices just get louder.
Worthless,Giuseppe spits.No daughter of mine would crumble like this.
Everyone’s watching you fail,Sophia taunts.Behind that mirror, they’re all seeing what you really are.
“How?” I gasp, spinning to face Torres. My voice comes out cracked, desperate. “How do you know? How do you fucking know exactly what to say to?—”
“To break you?” Torres grins, looking like the cat got the canary. “Because I’ve been watching you since you walked in here. The way you second-guess yourself, the way you look lost without backup, the way you flinch when someone challenges your authority. You’re not a leader, little girl. You’re a follower who’s been thrust into a role you can’t handle.”
His words burn because they echo every doubt I’ve had about myself since learning the truth about Giuseppe.
Am I really becoming someone powerful, or am I just a scared teenager pretending to be something I’m not?
“Your hands are shaking,” Torres continues relentlessly. “Your breathing is shallow. You keep looking at that mirror like you’re hoping someone will come save you. Face it—you’re in over your head.”
He’s right,both voices say in unison now.You’re nothing. You’re nobody.
The room tilts, and I have to grab the back of my chair to keep from falling.
My vision is starting to tunnel, black spots dancing at the edges.
I’m hyperventilating now and I can’t seem to get enough air.
“Where is he?” I whisper, tears burning my eyes. “Matteo, where are you? Why won’t you help me?”
But there’s still only silence from the voice that used to guide me through everything.
Torres laughs, low and satisfied. “There it is. The real you. Not Giuseppe DeLuca’s daughter—oh yes, BiancaDeLuca—I know exactly who you are. You’re not some dangerous heir. You’re just a broken little girl who can’t function without daddy—or should I say yourbrother—holding her hand.”
I’m doubled over now, gasping for breath, the voices screaming so loud I want to claw at my own skull to make them stop.
Everything Torres is saying is true.
Iampathetic, Iamfailing, I am?—
Stop.
The word cuts through everything else.
Not Giuseppe’s voice, not Sophia’s, not even Matteo’s.
It’s my own voice, quiet but absolute.
