Chapter 2

For the next two weeks, I played a broken woman.

I stayed in my room. I didn't eat, didn't speak, barely slept. Only when Orso brought my food himself would I take a few bites. My grief made him careless. That was the point.

Because a grieving wife who couldn't get out of bed gave him the perfect excuse to move Renata into the house.

It happened on a gray, rainy afternoon. Orso opened my door and walked in with her at his side.

"Saveria, this is Dr. Renata." His face was all concern. "She's the best therapist the family could find. I can't stand watching you suffer like this. Let her keep you company. Please?"

I looked up at the woman in the neat gray suit. The clothes were proper. Her eyes weren't. They were already counting everything in the room that would soon be hers.

"My condolences, Mrs. Aleria." Renata smiled and held out her hand. "I'll help you through this."

I wanted to pull the gun from under my pillow and put a hole in that smile.

I took her hand instead. "Thank you, Doctor. Orso really does care about me."

Her smile froze for half a second, then came back.

Orso let out a breath, relieved I hadn't pushed her away. "I'll leave you two to talk. The family has business. I'll be in the study."

The moment the door shut, the warmth left the room.

Renata dropped the act. She crossed to my dresser, picked up my most expensive diamond necklace, and held it against her own throat in the mirror.

"Losing your children must be hard, Mrs. Aleria." She watched my reflection, the corner of her mouth curling.

"It is." I kept my voice flat. "But I've made my peace with it. Orso only cares about the family's future. I won't be the thing that drags him down."

That stopped her. She hadn't expected it.

"You should work hard, Doctor," I said, and gave her a small smile. "Cure me quickly. Then I can give Orso another heir."

Her face went stiff. She slammed the necklace down on the dresser and walked out without a word.

Good. Renata was greedy and had no patience. She would never let me carry another child. She'd push Orso to grab power faster — and the faster he moved, the more mistakes he'd make.

That night I slipped past the guards to the west wing, where Ottilie lived in a small villa of her own. She was Orso's half-sister, and she ran the family's money. She cared about exactly one thing: what was hers. Since Orso took over, he'd been chipping away at her, trying to swallow the whole treasury for himself.

I found her on the couch, cleaning a pistol. She raised an eyebrow when she saw me.

"It's late. Shouldn't the grieving wife be crying in bed? What do you want?"

"I came to bring you a gift." I sat down across from her and held her eyes.

"Oh?" She set the gun down, interested now.

"At next month's family meeting, Orso plans to take your three ports. And every overseas channel you run."

Her face cooled in an instant. "He wouldn't dare."

"He would. And he's bringing Renata in as his wife." I watched her. "Do you know who Renata really is?"

Ottilie frowned. "The therapist?"

"His first love. They have a five-year-old son." I let it land. "To clear a path for that bastard, Orso drowned all four of my children. Two boys, then my newborn twins. Every time, he told me a rival family took them. There was no rival family. It was him."

Ottilie went still. The rag hung forgotten in her hand.

In our world, you can do almost anything. But you don't touch your own blood. If the elders ever confirmed it, they'd put a death order on Orso's head the same day.

"You have proof?" she asked.

"Not yet. I'll get it." I stood and looked down at her. "Here's the deal. You cover me and give me what I need. I take Orso down. When it's done, the family is mine — and every port, every account, every dollar of the money is yours."

She was quiet for a long moment. She was smart enough to know that once Orso held everything, she was a dead woman too.

"Deal." She stood and put out her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Saveria."