Chapter 2

Minutes pass. Then hours.

Damon never comes back to check on me. Instead, he sends a guard down with a remote.

The guard shoves it through the narrow slot in the door. "The Don says to turn on the screen."

The second the screen lights up, my heart drops.

Mia is standing where I should be.

At the altar.

Next to Damon.

Every eye in the room is on them.

Damon's voice cuts through the speaker, cold and clear. "May I present to you, my Donna, Mia Bellini.”

He slides the ring onto Mia's finger. She smiles and leans into his arms.

A sharp pang shoots through my heart.

I cough up a mouthful of blood.

Locking me up isn't the only punishment.

Damon plans to leave me here and make me watch as he hands everything that was supposed to be mine to Mia.

It isn't the first time he chooses to believe Mia.

But it is the first time Damon chooses to be this brutal.

Is this how a Don is supposed to act?

I laugh bitterly, pain still pulsing through my heart.

---

The basement has no water or my medicine or any fresh air.

My heart starts beating wrong. Sometimes, too fast, too hard, then suddenly too slow.

I think of last night, when I sent Damon my cardiology report with shaking hands.

Severe cardiomyopathy. High risk of cardiac arrest. Avoid dehydration, smoke, heat, panic, and emotional distress.

Damon read it and laughed.

"Don't use hospital words to get attention, Ava."

Now my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. Sweat runs down my back. My nails split against the door.

"Damon," I whisper. "Help me."

Pain bursts white behind my eyes. Then everything goes quiet.

---

When I open my eyes again, I am floating near the ceiling.

Below me, my body lies curled beside the locked door.

My lips are blue. My skin is pale. One hand is still pressed over my heart.

I stare at myself.

I am dead.

---

Upstairs, music is still playing.

Damon stands in the center under soft gold lights, holding Mia steady while she smiles.

"Leave her down there until dessert," he says. "Let's see if she ever fakes sick again."

I scream his name.

No one hears me.

A few minutes later, Marco, a young associate, comes to Damon with a bottle of water and a small white box.

My pills.

"Don DeLuca," Marco says carefully, "maybe we should pass these down to Miss Romano."

Damon turns. "The rule is the rule."

"She looked really sick, Don."

"She looked dramatic."

The hallway goes silent.

Mia leans against Damon's arm. "Ava is probably enjoying the attention right now."

Damon pats her back. Then he orders a guard to bring a chain and a second lock.

I watch him lock the basement again.

Chain around the handle. Iron bar through the ring. Padlock snapped shut.

Inside, my body lies twisted on the floor.

Damon pulls out his phone and opens my last message.

The report is still there.

He reads it for two seconds. Then he deletes it.

"Ava, don't blame me. Being a Donna isn't just about money and jewelry."

"If I don't teach you a lesson today, there will be more problems in the future," he mutters.

He turns to the guards.

"No one goes near that door until this dinner is over."

"Yes, Don," they answer.

He is sure I will come out crying and apologize.

But dead women cannot apologize, Damon.