Chapter 4

Lorenzo would stand by me. He had to. He wasn't the kind of man to be led by the nose by Donna Ashford's schemes. I ran out of the house, my heart pounding as I tried to call him. But the line was busy. I tried again. And again. Nothing but that damn busy tone, humming in my ear like something already going wrong.

Two hours later, my phone finally rang.

"Lorenzo Armetta," the screen read.

I snatched it up, hopeful. "Hello?"

"Francesca, I have something to tell you." His voice was flat, quiet in that way that should have warned me. "I don't think we're a good match. Let's break it off."

Just like that. A single sentence hit me like a gut punch. It echoed in my ears like thunder.

Yesterday, when we parted at the gate of his family's estate, he had held me so tight, whispered against my hair that he couldn't wait to make me his wife, to bind our names together in front of both bloodlines.

And now this?

"Why?" I choked out, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

There was a long pause. Somewhere on his end, a clock was ticking, too loud in the silence.

Then, before Lorenzo could say anything, I heard another voice.

"Do you really need someone to spell it out for you?"

It was Donna Ashford. "Lorenzo met your cousin and realized she's the better fit for a Family like his," she said, her voice smug and cruel, the voice of a woman fingering jewelry she hadn't earned. "She's prettier. More refined. She plays piano, she dances, she knows how to stand beside a man of his rank. And what do you have? You're the girl who patches up bleeding soldiers in a back room, elbow-deep in blood and other people's filth. Lorenzo's being generous not to mention the risk of catching something off a woman like you."

Every word was a slap to the face.

I had never been ashamed of what I did. I kept men alive. I did the work no legitimate doctor could ever know about. Lorenzo wasn't this shallow. He couldn't be.

"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice trembling. "I want to hear it from him."

"She's right, Francesca." His voice had gone even quieter now, almost nothing, and I should have understood what that stillness meant in a man like him. "I'm the only heir of the Armetta Family. The woman I marry has to carry herself with grace. She has to know how to hold a room, how to stand at my side in front of the other Families. Your cousin is more polished. More charming. If I have to choose between the two of you, of course I take the best."

He paused.

"But hey. At least we never did it. Don't hate me for this, okay, Francesca? Who knows. We might still end up famiglia one day."

Screw that. Lorenzo and his whole bloodline could burn for all I cared. I hung up, floored the gas pedal, and let the road blur beneath my tears.

I made up my mind right there. I was going to move out, find a place near the clinic, and never owe Donna Ashford anything again. Whatever debt she claimed hung over my head, she could consider it paid in full.

When I pulled into the lot behind the clinic, I sat a moment, breathing through it. Then I opened my photo album. One by one, I deleted everything tied to Lorenzo. Every picture.

Every message. Then I looked up, and saw something that stunned me into silence.

All my heartbreak, all my bitterness, it vanished in an instant. Because right in front of me, I saw an opening. If they all wanted to play dirty, fine. I slowly rolled down my sleeves and buttoned the cuffs, one and then the other, the way I did before a procedure. I'd play right back.