Leonas’ eyes flashed with shock. I released him and he stormed upstairs.

“You too,” Valentina said to Anna and Sofia who didn’t hesitate.

“Open it,” Ines whispered, pushing to her feet, throwing over her glass. She stormed toward Samuel as if she wanted to rip the parcel from him to see what was inside. I couldn’t allow that. Not before I knew what was inside. Ines was a strong woman, but some things were simply beyond what she could endure.

I slung my arm around her waist, stopping her. She struggled fiercely. “Let me go, Dante! Let me go!”

I didn’t.

“Ines, calm down,” I urged.

She glared. “Would you calm down if Anna was in Serafina’s stead? If there could be her finger or ear inside? Don’t you dare tell me to calm down ever again, you hear?”

Ines had always been a poised, calm woman. She’d never screamed at me. Pietro finally stumbled to his feet and came around the table, hugging Ines to his body. “Ines, let us—”

“No!” Ines hissed and ripped away from Pietro. She staggered toward Samuel, who didn’t try to fight her as she ripped the parcel out of his hands and tore it open. A white bedsheet fell out of the box. It spilled onto the ground in soft waves, revealing a bloodstain.

Ines made a choked sound. For a moment, we were all frozen. There was no mistaken what the blood meant.

Samuel bent down, picking up a piece of paper attached to the sheets and began to read in a low, trembling voice:

Dear Dante, Danilo, Pietro, and Samuel,

I’m sure you’ve all gathered in this challenging time to congregate. This allows me to present my gift to all of you. Sharing is caring, right?

I always thought the Famiglia’s bloody sheets tradition was a ridiculous relict from the past, but I have to say I consider myself reformed. It has something very satisfying to present proof of your victory to your adversaries. You’ll be happy to hear that I let Luca know how I borrowed his Famiglia’s tradition to send you a very graphic message. He sends his regards.

In case your worry-riddled brains have trouble deciphering the sheets, let me spell it out to you. These beautiful virgin-snow-white sheets bore witness to Serafina’s deflowering.

I have to say, Pietro, you raised a firecracker. She fought me tooth and nail to defend her honor. It made my claiming of your beautiful daughter all the more entertaining.

Samuel’s voice died into a rasp. Ines sank to her knees, crying. Tears streamed down Val’s face, her fingers trembling against her mouth, her horror-struck eyes on me.

Danilo stared at the sheets, his face frozen, his arms hanging slack beside him.

Pietro had his back turned to us, his shoulder shaking. My muscles had seized up in a state of shock and an anger so profound it threatened to tear down walls I’d built over decades.

Samuel continued reading, his voice broken and agonized.

I wonder what you feel now, Danilo, knowing that I took what was promised to you?

And you, Samuel, knowing that I defiled your twin? That she suffered cruelly because you dared to set foot in my territory. Lesson learned, I hope?

And what about you, Dante? What do you feel now that you’ve failed to protect one of your own because you were too prideful to admit defeat? I hope your pride is worth seeing the proof of how Serafina suffered at my hands, or should I say cock?

Maybe your pride isn’t your downfall, but it sure as fuck is your family’s downfall, Cold Fish.

Kind regards,

Remo

(P.S. once doesn’t count, right? Maybe I can send you a second set of sheets.)

Danilo stormed toward the sheets and tore a lighter from his pants, trying to set them aflame. I grasped his arms but he struggled madly. He finally ripped free and stumbled away toward Pietro’s office. Carla had occasionally talked about purgatory when we’d discussed her belief. I’d always considered the idea of hell ridiculous. But today I experienced my own personal purgatory, and I’d dragged my family into the flames with me.

Ines pushed to her feet. Her movements were jerky, almost as if she were drunk and unable to control her limbs. All she was drunk of was fear. She was shaking and crying as she rushed toward Dante. “Give him what he wants, Dante. Whatever he wants!”

“Ines,” he said with a strained note. I could see the anguish in his eyes. Dante had no trouble making the hard, the difficult decisions, but this was beyond anything he’d ever expected.

She fell to her knees, clinging to Dante’s calves. She peered up to him. “I beg you, Dante. I’m on my knees, please save my daughter, save Fina. Please.”

Pietro shook then he stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulders. “Ines, stop. Ines.” She fought him, clinging to Dante’s legs as if they offered salvation: Fina’s salvation.

I couldn’t breathe. The room was saturated with so much despair and fear it clogged my throat. I’d always worried war would reach our family, but never like this.

Dante was frozen as he stared down at his sister. “Ines,” he said quietly.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying not to cry. I could see myself in Ines’ place, could imagine her despair, her anguish. If Anna was in Remo’s hands… I, too, would beg anyone capable of saving her on my knees, would throw my pride out of the window and crawl if I must. But I wasn’t sure if Dante could save Fina, and he wasn’t sure either. Because Remo was playing a devilish game he enjoyed too much.

Samuel helped his father pull Ines to her feet and she fell into Pietro’s arms, clinging to him, sobbing. I’d never seen Ines like this, and the tears I’d tried to hold back, they flowed freely down my cheeks now.

Sound of glass shattering and furniture crashing to the ground reached us followed by Danilo’s roar full of fury, of despair and even guilt. Pietro and Samuel half carried Ines out of the room. Dante and I remained in the living room, many steps apart, frozen in place. A feeling of desperate helplessness hung between us.

Our eyes met. Dante’s face was a harsh mask, his eyes tumultuous. I wanted to say something reassuring to ease the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders but my mind was blank.

My gaze found the sheets once more and I sucked in a quiet breath. I didn’t want to imagine what Serafina had gone through, how Remo had forced himself on her. Imagining her fear, her shame, her pain, pushed more tears out of my eyes. Dante strode toward the sheets, picked them up and folded them neatly, then stuffed them back into the parcel. “What are you doing?” I asked tonelessly.

“I’m going to send them to a laboratory.”

“You think it might not be Serafina’s blood?”

Dante’s lips tightened. “No. But I need absolute certainty.”

Blood and DNA samples were taken from everyone in our circles to make identification in case of a brutal death easier. Even from Anna and Leonas samples had been taken right after their birth. I tried not to linger on the thought.

Dante picked up his phone and a minute later Enzo came into the mansion. He and many other men took turns guarding the mansion and the surrounding streets. Dante quietly explained to him what he should do and as usual Enzo listened calmly, his face not giving anything away. His calm was something I appreciated in a bodyguard.