Agony exploded through me like wildfire consuming dry brush.
Tears blurred the ornate ceiling into smears of gold and shadow. I cried so hard I couldn't draw breath, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but beg.
"Colino, please! Don't do this to my mother. She's—she's already gone. Isn't that enough?!"
Piper tilted her head with saccharine sweetness, barely concealing the triumph curving at the corners of her mouth.
"Colino… the dead deserve their rest. Perhaps we should show mercy?"
He turned to her with a theatrical sigh, his hand finding the small of her back with easy possession. "You're too soft, cara mia. That's why she walks all over you."
Then his attention snapped back to his men, who had paused at the threshold. "Well? What are you waiting for? Do I need to draw you a map to the funeral home?" The bark of command echoed off the walls of the Marconi estate like a gunshot.
His voice cut through me like shattered glass, scattering the last fragments of the love I'd clung to for ten desperate years.
He knew. He knew my mother was my only weakness—the single soft place in my armor. And he didn't hesitate to drive the knife straight through it.
I broke.
I bowed.