Warm blood—my blood—trickled down the back of my neck, soaking into the collar of my dress.
Colino turned on me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. The same eyes that had once looked at me with tenderness. The same hands that had once cradled my face now curled into fists at his sides.
"Anneliese Giordano," he spat my name like a curse, "how dare you? Apologize to Piper. Now."
It was like she was his wife. His Donna. The woman who would stand beside him when he inherited his father's empire.
And me? Just some lunatic. Some hysterical servant's daughter who needed to be dealt with before she embarrassed the Family further.
Piper sobbed against his chest, her fingers clutching the lapels of his suit, her body trembling with manufactured terror.
"I know she's just hurt," she whimpered, pressing her tear-streaked face into the hollow of his throat. "I already said I'd pay for it. I'd take on every job I could—even the ones no one else wants. The dirty work. But she..." Her voice cracked beautifully. "She still hit me. And she cursed me—said I should drop dead."