Chapter 1

On Easter Sunday, to amuse his adopted daughter Sofia, family heir Luca and his brother Marco dressed me up as a clown.

Sofia ripped my gown to shreds and scrawled "TRAITOR" across my face with her lipstick.

When I didn't react, she kicked me into a barrel of pig slop.

When they fished me out, the yard was ringed with family members holding up their phones, their jeers cutting like glass.

Marco stood a hundred feet away, pinching his nose in disgust, refusing to come within ten feet of me.

Sofia beamed. "Elena, happy Easter!"

Luca stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. "It was just a joke," he said lightly. "Don't take it so seriously."

He raised his hand and signaled his men. A high-pressure hose came on full blast.

The water knocked me flat. I lay there shivering, my skin turning purple with cold. I didn't beg. Not once.

By morning, the video of me soaked and trembling had spread across the entire underworld.

Marco blamed me for dragging Sofia's name through the mud. He threw me out.

Luca tore up our engagement contract in front of everyone. "The Costa family doesn't marry women with stains on their name."

I nodded to each of them. No argument. No tears.

They thought I was putting on a brave face. Pretending.

They didn't know the transaction had only three days left.

These people? I couldn't stand the sight of them.

In the courtyard, Don Vittorio sat in his high-backed chair and gestured for his capo to step forward.

"Shameless! Filthy!"

The capo's belt came down on me again and again.

I didn't explain. I just bit down and took it. Arguing would only make the beating worse.

I had barely been back in this house a week when Sofia accused me of stealing her diamond brooch. Of being a mole.

My parents searched my room. My brothers stripped me naked in front of the whole household.

They found nothing.

I thought I might finally get an apology. Instead, Marco knocked out one of my teeth with a single backhanded slap.

"You sold it, didn't you?" he spat. "Where's the money?"

My room was the size of a closet. I didn't have a single bank card to my name.

I tried to explain. He hit me harder, called me a liar who wouldn't confess.

I curled into a ball in the corner. He kicked me until I coughed up blood.

Then Sofia gasped. "Found it."

The diamond brooch glittered in the sunlight. To me, it was blinding.

I looked at Marco. Not a trace of guilt on his face. He just shrugged. "A little misunderstanding," he said flatly. "Forget about it."

"I'm Sofia's brother. Of course I trust her."

He knew he was Sofia's brother. He forgot I was his real sister.

Back in the courtyard, the capo's belt kept swinging. My body was a mess of bloody welts. Marco stood right there and didn't say a single word in my defense.

He'd let Sofia humiliate me, photograph me naked—then he blamed me for ruining her reputation. He'd tossed my few belongings out the front gate and told me to get lost.

I agreed to leave.

But my father, Don Vittorio, roared, "You think you can just walk out? You haven't shamed us enough?"

He ordered the family punishment tools brought out.

Two hours into the beating, my mother, Donna Caterina, finally raised a hand. "Enough," she said. "Have her kiss the ring ninety-nine times and write a blood oath. We'll call it settled."

Don Vittorio threw down his belt, irritated. "You spoil her."

Spoil. I almost laughed.

"Kiss the ring," in my mother's language, meant pressing your forehead to the Don's ring and kissing it. If it didn't make a sound, it didn't count.

The blood oath had to be written in your own blood. Under ten thousand words, or not "sincere" enough, and you did it over.

I didn't speak. I bent down again and again, kissing that ring until I passed out. They threw cold water on me, and when I came to, I kept kissing.

I wrote the blood oath all night. Every word scraping me deeper into the dirt.

I thought that would be enough.

Sofia pinched her nose and stepped back. "Marco, it's not that I don't want Elena in the house, but... she reeks."

My brother ruffled her hair fondly and shot me a look of disgust. "You're not fit for the servants' quarters. Go stay with Bruno."

Bruno was Sofia's pit bull. And I was terrified of dogs.

I remembered the day they first brought me back. Sofia had been just as disgusted, but back then Marco had only sent me to the warehouse—not the kennel.

The cage in the warehouse was bigger than the servant's room I'd gotten later. And without Sofia giving orders, the guards didn't bite. I could at least sleep.

The kennel—I couldn't.

I dropped to my knees in front of Don Vittorio and Donna Caterina, kissing the ring like my life depended on it. "Don Vittorio, Donna Caterina—if I stink, let me leave the family. Let me go back to the warehouse. Please, I'm begging you, don't make me stay with the dog."

Don Vittorio's face softened, just slightly. He was about to speak when Marco grabbed me by the collar.

"Elena, stop playing the victim! You're the reason this family is a laughingstock. You should be grateful you have anywhere to sleep at all."

He dragged me toward the kennel. I looked back at Don Vittorio.

He turned away.

The stench hit me before I even stepped inside. The dog's fangs gleamed inches from my face.

I closed my eyes.

And then the system's cold mechanical voice echoed in my skull. "Two days left until the host's transaction is complete."