His Life for My Finger

"Drag her out. Lock this lunatic in the storage room. No doctor unless I say so. If she's so stubborn, let the pain finish her," said Luca.

As two bodyguards hauled me out like a dead dog, my blood streaked the floor behind us.

Before I passed out from the pain, I caught sight of a thin man in the corner of the ballroom.

In a shabby, ill-fitting suit, his bangs hid most of his face. He held a glass so tightly his knuckles stood out like bone.

That was Silas Rossi—the bastard of the Rossi famiglia, Luca's older half-brother, a child nobody in the famiglia had ever claimed. Rumor had it he was mute.

They threw me into a damp, dark basement. The pain in my left hand woke me. The wound on my hand hadn't been treated, and blood still poured freely.

Luca really wanted me dead.

Just when I thought I would die here quietly, the door creaked open. A faint beam from a flashlight cut through the darkness.

Through the haze, I saw Silas slip in like a shadow, crouching beside me with a medical kit in hand.

In the faint light, I made out his face. It was the first time I'd ever heard him speak. His voice was hoarse and rough from years of silence.

"Hold still. I don't have any anesthetic," he rasped.

So he wasn't mute.

The kit held nothing but the strongest alcohol and some disinfectant powder. His hand trembled over the bottle of alcohol. He couldn't bring himself to pour it on my bleeding wound.

"Do it," I said through gritted teeth, staring at the severed flesh. "Silas, I'm not afraid of pain."

He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and poured the alcohol over my wound.

Pain stole my vision, almost blacking me out.

I bit into Silas' shoulder, tasting blood.

He didn't flinch. He cleaned the wound, applied medicine, and wrapped it tight. Drops of sweat dripped from his jaw onto my cheeks, mingling with my tears.

When it was over, I gave in to weakness and rested against him. Silas held me firmly, caressing my cheek as he wiped my tears away.

"Revenge," he murmured.

His eyes sparkled in the shadows. I smiled.

"Of course. Silas, do you want to rule the Rossi famiglia?"

He hesitated. "I just want you alive."

At that moment, it felt like something had hit my heart hard.

That freezing winter night, as Luca severed my finger for Sofia, only this despised bastard cared if I lived.

Suddenly, loud footsteps approached outside the door. Silas' eyes sharpened. He shielded me and grabbed a wooden bat, staring down the doorway.

The door burst open, and several bodyguards charged in. But faced with Silas' fierce presence, they froze.

Luca followed, strolling in slowly.

In a sharp, clean suit and cigar in hand, he looked down at us with complete arrogance.

"So, here you are," he said, casting a disdainful glance around the storage room and then at us. "Like attracts like, and here we have a truly perfect pair."

Silas' veins bulged. He was about to charge.

I held him back and stepped out from behind him. My face was pale, but I stood tall and met Luca's gaze without flinching. "Luca, what brings you here? Are you here to see if I'm dead?"

Luca blew out a swirl of smoke, looming above me. "Alessia, I'm here to inform you that the Rossi famiglia's succession will be held together with my engagement party to Sofia next Wednesday."

He pulled a white invitation from his pocket and slammed it onto my face. "Nonna said that since you were my fiancee and you've been in the Rossi famiglia for so many years, you are allowed to attend the ceremony.

"You're here only for appearances. On the day of the ceremony, you'll kneel and hand over the 5% of Rossi famiglia shares under your name to Sofia."

Only then did I realize he had come for the shares. Luca's grandfather, the late Don of the Rossi famiglia, had forced the shares into my name on his deathbed.

Luca had always treated it like a thorn lodged deep in his flesh. I caught the invitation before it hit the floor.

"Are you telling me to hand over my shares?" I asked.

"Yes," Luca said, closing the distance between us. "If you refuse, I'll break your legs and throw you into the ocean. You know how simple it is for us to kill someone."

I could sense Silas tense up behind me, fighting to contain the murderous intent threatening to burst out.

I lifted my chin, stared at Luca's arrogant face, and smiled.

"Fine. I'll go. Next Wednesday, I'll give you and Sofia a gift you'll never forget."

He blinked, surprised I agreed so readily. "Smart of you."

He reached out as if to pat my cheek in approval, but the wooden bat in Silas' grip forced him to stop short.

Luca let out a scornful snort and turned away. "Dress properly. Don't embarrass us."

As his footsteps faded, all my strength seemed to leave me at once, and I sank against Silas' chest.

Silas looked at me anxiously. "You can't go. They'll humiliate you."

I closed my fingers around him, my gaze turning cold as ice. "No, Silas. That's not humiliation. It's the opening act of their funeral."