That he would look at me and see me.
There was nothing.
Just disgust.
Cold and unwavering.
My hands trembled against the dirt.
I forced myself to stay still.
To stay upright.
Even as everything inside me cracked open.
Everyone hated me.
Vincenzo.
The man who couldn’t decide whether to destroy me or save me.
Violet.
Who wanted my heart carved out of my chest.
And now—
my father.
The one person who should have been safe.
The one person who should have loved me without question.
Calling me my mother whore like it was her name.
Like she had always been one.
Tears burned behind my eyes.
But I refused to let them fall.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Matteo stepped closer.
His boots crunched against the gravel.
He stopped just a few feet from me.
Close enough that I could see the faint curve of his smile.
“Now that your kidnapping has been... successfully executed,” he said, smooth, almost amused, “you should know why you’re here.”
His eyes glinted.
“First—because you disgraced us. As a family and as an organization.”
