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“It all started with Ruby Collini,” Jonny begins to tell them all. “She was Antonio Collini’s wife and adored by everyone. Everyone, that is, but Antonio. Their story started with love but soon ended with misery. Collini was a greedy man, and he used Ruby as a trophy. She soon became imprisoned by his love and made to make women envious and men stare. She was one of the most powerful tools he had at his disposal and he used her every single day they were married.”

“What happened?” one of the men asks, obviously unaware of this infamous story.

“It ended in misery. Her actions were that of a desperate woman, but it was one that saw her free.” Jonny takes a swig of his drink, garnering anticipation from all those listening before he finishes the story. “Ruby Collini was the first
Femme Fatale
in our midst. She was able to seduce men with one look, rile them up and tear them down just by reminding them who she was already owned by. Stefano Abbiati decided to make sure that if there were to be any more like her, it would be within his descendants and no one else’s. Sadly, he produced only boys, but his son Salvatore had the first girl in decades.”

“Amelia Abbiati is hardly the epitome of
Femme Fatale
,” one unknown man quips, chuckling as he mocks me.

I take my moment to bite back, unable to allow someone to cuss me when they have no idea who I am and what I’m clearly capable of.

“I could have you on your knees within seconds if I wanted,” I reply to his comment. I force him to realize that I’m just a few mere feet behind him. The look he turns to me with is a look that is priceless, and I laugh at him. “I’ve killed possibly more men that you’ve had women in your bed. And I am not above it to make you an addition to my list.”

“No one’s scared of you anymore, Amelia,” he challenges me, stepping toward me.

I merely smirk. “That will be your biggest downfall.”

“Whatever. You’re not what everyone used to think you were. Weak, insubordinate, waste of space in a family as legendary as the Dio Lavoro,” he continues to speak, spewing hate fire at me. “We all know even your father doesn’t care much for you anymore. Not after every disgrace you’ve bought to the family. You should be ashamed to be part of the Dio Lavoro when you’re not built for it. Those least deserving always have everything at their feet.”

As I feel the burn of humiliation begin to travel up my chest, the heat raising the temperature of my blood, I harden myself. My eyes narrow as if this random male were my next hit. I can almost feel a vial of poison – a feeling I haven’t had to endure in months. As my chest heaves with new exhales, I steady my venomous thoughts and decide gentle is a better approach.

“I think it’s a little disrespectful to be rude to a member of the Dio Lavoro when you’re here to celebrate what my father has created. I might not be what you all think I was, but I’m still an Abbiati and all I would have to do is click my fingers and someone, preferably Giovanni, will have your head on a silver platter. Think before you disrespect Italian royalty, coglione.”

I could argue until I’m blue in the face, but I refuse to entice them. I uphold my end of the bargain to seem dutiful when inside I think my father has destroyed everything my grandfather, and great-grandfather before him, has created. They don’t need to know that, so I head to the kitchen, finally finding solitude in the quiet room where working staff prepare drinks. I’d rather them watching me than the angry mob that ridiculed me. When the door opens again, I ready myself for a second onslaught, but I’m met with a beautiful brunette, who just stares at me wide-eyed, as if in shock. I have no idea who she is, but I have this feeling she knows me.

“Sorry, I can leave,” I suggest, pointing to the door.

“No, don’t be silly,” she says, giggling a little at my lunacy. “We can both hide in here.” She goes over to the table of alcohol and starts to look among the bottles, surveying them. I awkwardly stand here watching, wishing I could leave and find a new place to hide out. But when she turns back, she approaches me with a friendly stance. She extends a hand and I see a warm introduction about to occur between us. “I’m Pippa,” she introduces herself. Her smile is inviting, as is her attitude, so I take her hand in mine, but regret it immediately as her fingers tighten, her nails begin to dig in and she pulls me forward. As she does so, her face falls, and she becomes twisted with anger. “
Marius’ fiancée
.”

“Oh,” I gasp, allowing her to outdo with her strength. I’m stunned momentarily – Marius had a fiancée?

“Is that all you have to say to the woman whose life you destroyed?” she croons, her words snarl and lash at me, cutting deeper than she could even know. “We were supposed to get married tomorrow, but instead of getting excited over my wedding, I’ve had to spend my time cancelling plans and mourning the love of my life.” She moves, this time getting closer to the block of knifes. “And all because of you.”

The woman, who walked around outside so poised and eloquent, is now a disheveled shadow of her former self. She’s wild, enraged, riding off her grief and I fully understand this persona – I once used it to do wrong. She’s the aftermath of my actions. I am being dealt the reminders that my every action had lasting consequences.

“You must know the man he really was,” I begin to say, striving for some forms of strengths. “The life he was mixed up in, Pippa. He had it coming.”

“Well, then,” she remarks, taking a step forward, “that makes this easier for me.”

Her comment unnerves me, and I begin to shake. “What?”

“Killing you, you sick, twisted bitch! You murdered all across Manhattan for so long and I am sick and tired of hearing how sweet, beautiful Amelia is the princess everyone should fear.” Her anger is beginning to unleash; the more she speaks, the more unhinged she’s becoming. “You don’t scare me, though.” Her eyes narrow, her glare becoming menacingly heavy on me. “I knew this party was happening and Marius wanted nothing more than to be a part of it, so I decided to make sure his name isn’t forgotten by killing the woman who killed him.”

I can feel the room getting smaller. My sins are racing to catch up to me, and I know I cannot run forever. I knew this day would come, but now that it has, I’m not ready or willing to give up.

“You do know that he wanted me?” I ask her, casually backing away to put a counter between us. “He came to a house knowing he’d have a moment of lust with me and didn’t even think to tell me about you, Pippa. No, he told me how he wanted Zane dead so I could see he was the man who loved me right.”

“You’re lying,” she tells me, defying my comment.

“I don’t lie over business,” I remark, making sure I’m sickly sweet. I steel myself for the overload of killer instincts. I need that persona to mask me and protect me right now. “If anything, I tend to gloat about it.”

“I know that to be a lie,” she says, moving around the middle counter, and I mirror her to keep the distance. “You tried to kill your own father because you wanted out. You fell in love and found another purpose. I was Marius’. We were going to get married and leave this life! Until you took it away from me.”

I make a run for the door, hoping that once I’m out in the crowds, I can get lost in order to find my way out to safety. However, Pippa’s quick, and as I near the door, she tackles me from the side and we fall tangled to the ground. It’s while lying there winded that I find myself with an intense pain in my thigh. I look down and find a knife sticking out of my leg.

“Fuck,” I say as I begin to get myself away from Pippa. In a few seconds, we’ve gone from arguing to really showing how serious this moment is. I pull the knife from my leg and toss it aside. Thankfully, it didn’t go all the way in or this would be ending much differently.

I scramble to my feet as Pippa does the same. I’m in no mood for a full-on brawl in the middle of a fucking kitchen with someone whose better half had it coming. What I did for Zane might be seen as psychotic, but I only did it because I loved him and I was scared to lose him.

I loved to the point of death. That consuming blossom in my heart was addictive and tainted, and I took as much of it as I could out of greed. I wanted more time with the man I loved. All my actions derive from that one statement – I wanted a piece of my forever. No one would stop me.

Now, here I am with the biggest backlash of my life.

“You know, people like those in your family are who the devil looks forward to punishing,” she jests, provoking the anger in me now. “Your family is nothing but monsters and there is no hope for people like you. That knife was meant for your heart.”

I don’t get time to react. I’m speechless and at a loss of what to say regarding what my family is made up of. Yes, there are monsters, but not all of us are corrupt and rotten to the core. In my hesitating with thought, Pippa sees her opportunity and delivers a solid slap to my face. My head flies to the side, and I’m stunned as pain prickles to life before screaming out across my cheek. I hold my cheek before looking up at her. It’s now that I take my stand. I might not want to fight, but I won’t allow her to get away with any more than she has.

We fight, nails scratching, fists smacking against skin, and I know that there are multiple instruments I could use as an aid to finishing this, but that’s not what I want. Instead, I give Pippa one final shove, deciding not to continue to fight like two cats or opt to kill her. I’m supposed to be exuding power tonight, but that doesn’t mean I have to execute it as well. On her way down, Pippa slams into the countertop, winding her as she drops, and I watch her head quite literally bounce off the granite tiles.

When she doesn’t move immediately, my entire adrenaline level depletes and I’m left holding myself up. I start to mentally take note of what scrapes I’m going to walk away with and I think I’ve gotten away lightly, apart from my thigh –
fucking ouch
, is all I can think now that I’ve stopped moving! My leg feels weaker as I feel warm blood flow down it. I know I have to get out of here and fast before someone catches me. I just need to somehow get home and fix myself up. Thankfully, with the dress I’m wearing, the skirt helps to conceal what’s really wrong with my leg.

I walk around the kitchen to grab a towel and start to mop the blood away. As I draw up my leg and push down on the wound, I whimper. This is going to leave a mark, that’s for sure.

“Amelia.” I hear Enzo, and suddenly the room is filled with the noise from outside. I look to see him standing shocked in the doorway. “What the hell?” he asks coming further into the room.

“Cat fight,” I say, shrugging. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” I take the towel away, trying my hardest to conceal it. When I notice movement from Pippa, I look down and nod at her. “Watch her,” I tell Enzo, looking over at Pippa as she grips her hip. “She hit her head pretty fucking hard on her way down.”

Enzo reaches for me as I leave, pulling me back with a gentle tug.

“Are you okay?” he asks me first, his tone low and comforting. “Don’t think I didn’t see the towel. What the hell happened in here? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him, giving a forced smile. “I’m going home. This is all bullshit, and I can’t stay here. Will you cover for me?”

“Amelia,” he begins, trying to break me down slightly. When he sees I won’t relent, he sighs. “Sure thing. We won’t be home late.”

“Okay,” I say and finally slip away from his calm aura.

I leave the kitchen, trying hard to keep the limp I’m struggling with hidden from everyone. As I pass crowds of people, I see Zane and Carlo standing together, causing Manuel to laugh carelessly. When Manuel looks up at me, I wink and offer a small smile.

It’s then I decide to leave – just as Carlo and Zane follow Manuel’s glance. I walk through the rest of the building, out of the cloistered rooms, ones so full of expectation, memories, and alcohol, and down to our care where Matty faithfully awaits us.

As I slide into the backseat of the car, using the skirt of my dress to cover my wound, I look at the door and see no one following.

I should be thankful no one followed me out, but inside, I’m hurt that no one bothered.

***

I pretended to be asleep when they all came back home. I heard my door open, whispered, hushed voices spoke between them as they decided I was sound asleep and I was left alone again. Not long after that, I did drift off, but now I’m awake with the intense pain radiating in my leg from the stab wound Pippa delivered.

I throw back my covers, and immediately through the moonlight, I see my bed stained with red and force myself toward the edge of my bed. I look down at my thigh and notice the bandage I applied was never going to help when I’d haphazardly stuck it in place.

Well, if this is all I’m taking away from my first fight with karma, I guess I should start counting my lucky fucking stars now.

I force myself to stand, the feat itself excruciating, and I look at the blackened outline of my bathroom door. Through the darkness, I know this is going to be a killer walk, but I stumble my way forward, slamming my hand onto the light switch to emblazon the room with artificial light. I hitch my foot onto the closed toilet and try to logically think of where to start with this. I know I should call for help, but what’s the point? I can do this alone.

“Crap,” I curse, as I begin to peel the tape away from holding the shoddy plaster in place.