The Donna They Threw Away

The night before I was to be formally introduced as the future matriarch of the Costello family, I received a frantic call from my fiancé Cian's adopted sister, Liliana.

Her voice trembling, she claimed she had been drugged at our rival family's club.

I suggested Cian take her to the family doctor.

Instead, Cian slapped me across the face. The fire in his eyes could have burned me to ashes as he berated me for being cold and heartless, for thinking about family protocol at a time like this.

He roared that Liliana was family, someone he would protect with his life, and he had to help her in his own way.

I watched, frozen, as he loosened the tie of his bespoke suit and strode toward a flushed Liliana.

Liliana wound herself around him like a vine.

The heavy, soundproof door slammed shut in my face. The muffled moans and rhythmic thuds from within crushed my five years of love and devotion to dust.

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1

My left cheek still throbbed as the faint sounds of Cian's and Liliana's panting seeped through the door.

The sickening sound of skin slapping against skin and the dull thud of bodies mingled with the feigned ignorance of the Soldati standing guard. The sounds slithered into my ears like vipers.

"Never took the heir for being so... 'attentive' to his sister."

"Some sister. Looks more like his favorite whore, if you ask me."

"With his status? Who's going to say a damn thing, even if she was his real sister?"

I sat alone in the car, mechanically gulping down glass after glass of ice water. The chill burned my throat, a dull ache that was nothing compared to the agony crushing my chest.

The safe house door was suddenly thrown open.

Cian emerged, his clothes in disarray.

His shirt was wide open, revealing a chest raked with scratches. Fresh, crimson kiss marks stood stark against his neck.

Liliana hung on him as if boneless, draped only in his suit jacket. Dark, tell-tale stains smeared the inside of her thighs.

"Cian, you were incredible," she purred, deliberately smearing her lipstick on his collarbone. "Candace, you're so lucky."

The Soldati around us collectively lowered their heads.

Cian noticed me and reached out a hand, but the cloying scent of sex clung to him, thick and nauseating.

I recoiled violently, my head cracking against the car window.

The dull thud broke the silence in the parking lot, and everything went quiet.

"Disgusting," I spat, the word slicing through the silence.

A frosty mask fell over Cian's face. "Do you have to be like this? You know Liliana's situation is special."

I scoffed, pointing at the fresh love bite on her neck. "Special? So you had to personally be the one to fuck her? Cian, that 'protecting the women of the family' line of yours is such noble bullshit."

"Candace, if you hadn't dragged your feet, none of this would have happened," he said sharply. "I did what I had to do to protect her. Don't throw our future away over this."

I clapped slowly, raising my water bottle. "Congratulations, Mr. Costello, on a job well done. Here's to your profound 'brother-sisterly love'."

Cian's patience finally snapped. "Candace, have you made enough of a scene? Liliana is just my sister!"

Liliana suddenly whimpered weakly. "Cian, I don't feel well again..."

He immediately turned to her. As he walked away, he flicked a credit card at my face. "Candace, go buy the best morning-after pill money can buy. And supplements. Get it done. Fast."

He put his arm around Liliana and walked toward his car, adding, "And get some fever reducers. Liliana's temperature is a little high. Also, don't say things like that anymore. Liliana doesn't like it."

I grabbed a water bottle and hurled it against the wall. The plastic crumpled, and water splashed across the back of my hand.

The icy water dripped down my wrist, but I felt nothing.

When you’ve hit the bottom, even pain goes numb.

I stumbled out of the parking lot.

...

It was midnight when I returned to his penthouse apartment.

I was vomiting violently in the bathroom when a sharp ring broke the silence.

The name "Isadora Costello" flashed on the screen, blindingly bright.

It was only then that I realized, after throwing up, I had collapsed on the bathroom floor.