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marked by my physical death. That fateful day wasn't the day I took my last breath. It wasn't my day to meet my maker. It was the day I died and came back a heartless woman. After all, if I didn’t put my heart into something, then I didn’t run the risk of getting hurt when it all went wrong or I lost out.
    No, that day was the first day before my life only got worse. That was the start of my puppeteer life. My every move is orchestrated by the Dio de Sangue himself. My every move was recorded and reported back. I knew the Dio Lavoro would never let me go, so it was either be the criminal among villains or put the fear of Christ in them all. The latter sounded far more fun, so I became what they all ever want from their younger generations – callous, cold-blooded, and cruel.
    I spent days pretending to love killing and lending a helping hand when it came to setting up meetings and seducing clients for Alberto, but by the time the sun set, I was covered in filth and so much dirt that I’ve not been clean since. As the time passed and all hope began to dwindle, I just entered a twilight zone. I did what I had to do to pass the day. I never thought much, I never interacted much, and I just got on with it.
    However, at night was when I struggled. My demons were far worse than I had ever thought they could be. They would rock me from my sleep, torture me every time I drifted off, and ultimately, they stole more of me than my actions I had.
    This was the decimation of Amelia Abbiati and there will be no end to the punishment. This is life in purgatory – world of the forever damned.
    “Bella,” Lorenzo says, breaking my trance. I look to see him standing before me. He captures my face delicately and forces me to look into his piercing, olive eyes. “You’ve gone quiet.”
    “It’s nothing,” I lie and smile.
    “It’s far from nothing,” he states and gives me a small smile. “You can talk to me.”
    “I know,” I say and for a moment forget myself. I push into his gentle touch and relish a piece of comfort being presented to me.
    Manuel clears his voice, bringing me back to the room with a thud. “So, you two seem cozy,” Manuel speaks up, looking back and forth between Lorenzo and me. “Want to spill?”
    “It just happened,” I say, and I can feel the blush hit my cheeks before I even have the chance stop it.
    But it is the truth, we did just happen. It wasn’t forced; it wasn’t even love at first sight. Yes, I was attracted to him, but only because he was a ghost from my past. It took time and a lot of resilience to finally just cave to the carnal feelings he built in me, and what shocked me most was it took violence to unleash it all.
    I fell for Lorenzo a little when one of Alberto’s men tried to hurt me. He protected me and took me home to Alberto after beating the man to a pulp. I had apparently conned Alberto’s associate out of a few grand of drugs. He slapped me around before Lorenzo could make it to my side, but when he did, I couldn’t stop the frenzy of attacks that were unleashed. I had no idea he was quite so brutal, but what else could I expect? He was Alberto Abbiati’s sidekick, he had to be without morals as it was, but seeing someone hit me made him feral.
    It was that night as he cleaned me up that we first kissed. For the time before I had been enamored of him, but that was a matter of who he looked like. That night, I started an affair with him I knew I couldn’t finish, but only because he made me feel safe in a place that will never be deemed that. He offered me love when I had none around me, nor did I have any to give.
    “Your sister,” Lorenzo starts off, giving me a chaste look before looking at my brothers, “she is a very special lady. She shouldn’t have to be forced to do the things she has.” He reaches for my hand, taking it and lacing long, slender tanned fingers with mine. “I only save her from so much.”
    “You did a great job,” I say, weakly trying