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“Really?” She laughed scornfully. “I’m the bitch? If it wasn’t for you, Sandro and I would have been married?—”

“You dumped him first,” I gritted. “It was only when he became a legendary enforcer that you wanted him back.”

“And he wanted me back, but you had to go ruin it. What happened to girl code?”

Griselda and I were each other’s ruinations. And guess who was our common denominator again—Sandro.

“Girl code…” It was my turn to emit a short, scornful laugh. “We were not even close to that level, Griselda. I’m the one who's sleep-deprived and you’re the delusional one. But let me remind you how you messed with my head.”

“Oh, give me a break. You were seventeen; you should have known better.”

She walked over to my wedding dress and put her arms around the form, her grin growing wider and more satisfied. “But let’s put this behind us…” She let those words hang and touched her flat belly. “We’re going to be family.”

The idea made me want to hurl. Since captivity, that had been a constant feeling, but I tried to swallow the rancid taste, the bitterness that coated my tongue. I shoved it into the box where I locked down my other feelings for Sandro, tightening them with the chains of my anger.

The sooner this farce of a marriage was over, the better. All I cared about was my brother’s freedom.

That he would get to go home to Liz and Sam and get the medical care he should have gotten two days ago.

I thought about Mom and Dad. They must be going out of their minds. Matteo and Sera should have returned by now, too. At one point yesterday, there seemed to be a commotion around the house. I heard men shouting outside, and I thought my family had found us.

But it was really looking like I was marrying Gian Rossi. Once Renz was free, I could wallow in the other heartache that was pushing in.

It had nothing to do with Sandro. Sandro was dead to me.

No, my heartache was being a failure as a daughter.

My heartache was about Dad.

I’d overheard him one day when one of his associates teased him about Sandro being grumpy to everyone else but me. They said we should be engaged.

And Dad said, “Over my dead body will my daughter marry a Rossi.”

I got mad at him. I thought he was unfair painting Sandro like the rest of his family. But now I realized my dad had always been right, and I just knew my next torment was because I let him down. All my life, I craved my parents’ approval, not because they demanded I do things their way, but because they expected nothing from me. I had only known unconditional love.

I approached the dress form. My icy fingers touched the fabric. My body must still be in a state of shock because all mylimbs were stiff and cold. I also hadn’t had a proper meal in days, not having any appetite.

“You know what would make this perfect?” I asked Griselda.

“What?”

“Pig’s blood.” I gave a snort of laughter.

Her brows drew together. “Are you all right?”

But I couldn’t stop laughing even when I tasted tears. “All right?” I glared at her with enough force that made her step back. “What is all right about this, Griselda? My brother is sedated to within an inch of killing him. He needed a hospital two days ago.” I stomped toward her. “I’m being forced into a marriage with a man I hate.” Finally, all the pent-up fury and frustration of the past few days detonated into a maniacal scream. “What is all right about this?”

It did not give me catharsis. I only spiraled deeper into despair.

Rossi soldiers rushed into the room, Sandro and Tommy with them.

“What’s going on here?” Sandro demanded.

Griselda rushed to Sandro and dove into him, shrinking away from me as though she were in danger from me. She probably was.

“She’s becoming hysterical. Maybe she needs some of those meds they gave her brother.”

Sandro shook her hands off. “Fuck off, Griselda.”