“Get a doctor,” he barked. Then his gaze turned cold. “You—clean it up. Every piece. Now.”
I looked down at the shattered bracelet scattered across the marble.
Glass bit into my palms as I knelt, metal slicing skin. I welcomed the pain. It reminded me I was still standing.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Blood smeared the floor as I pushed myself upright, forcing my spine straight despite the sting.
“Is that sufficient, Don Moretti?”
His eyes held nothing—no memory, no regret.
“The man who protected you no longer exists,” he said coldly. “Who are you performing for now?”
I stared at him. “If you hate me this much, end it. Reject me. Cut the bond.”
He laughed, low and cruel. “Why bother? You’ll return. You always do. And rejection hurts more than you deserve.”
I gathered the remaining fragments, dumped them into the trash, washed the blood from my hands, and lifted my bag.
This time, when I walked out of the palazzo—
I didn’t look back.
Avery’s POV
I truly believed I had escaped.
For one delicate, foolish heartbeat, I thought I was finally free.
I didn’t even make it past the outer gates of the Moretti estate before fate laughed in my face.