The Stand-In’s Stoke Back, Everyone Regretted It

Avery had appeared in the doorway without either of us noticing.

She was wearing a scarlet evening dress that made her look stunning, and she was watching us with open contempt. Her eyes moved back and forth between me and Luciano, then settled on his hand still near my wrist.

Luciano startled and pulled back like he'd touched something dirty, stepping quickly to her side. "Avery, I was just—"

Avery walked toward me instead.

"Nina." She stopped in front of me, looking down. "Forget who you are?"

"Miss Avery—"

Crack. The slap was loud and clean. My head snapped sideways and my ear started ringing.

"You trash." She wiped her hand on a silk cloth and smiled. "Get them."

Two guys came in fast, one on each side, and they drove me to the floor and started working on my face like they'd done it a hundred times before. Luciano went still, surprised or pretending to be.

My hair was everywhere. Blood at the corner of my mouth. I turned away so I didn't have to look at him.

He probably didn't know that since the day I sold myself into this house to help him, every day had been something like this.

Avery was jealous, said I was prettier than her, and that was reason enough. My body always had bruises somewhere. I used to tell Luciano I'd fallen.

There are still whip scars on my back from the time she accused me of breaking a vase she'd broken herself. In a family like this one, giving the order didn't even require a second thought.

Luciano finally opened his mouth. "Avery, she's leaving in a few days anyway—"

Avery's eyes went shiny and tears came like a tap being turned on.

She pressed herself into his chest, voice going small and hurt. "Luciano, I came to check on Nina. I thought I'd be kind. But my mother's diamond ring is missing — the one she left me before she died. I think Nina took it to get back at me."

She shook against him, wracked with sobs.

I stared at her. I had never touched her ring.

Luciano wrapped an arm around her waist and looked down at her. His eyes were full of tenderness, but calculating. He'd been through hard years with me. He knew I was the kind of person who'd walk three blocks back to return a five-dollar overpayment.

I watched his face. Avery sobbed harder.

Luciano held her, panicked, running his hand along her back. Then he lifted his head and looked at me, and the look landed like a blade.

"Nina." His voice was tight with controlled anger. "Avery came to see you in good faith and this is what you do? That ring was her mother's. Do you have any idea what that means to her?"

I felt like I'd been dropped into ice water. No matter whether I'd taken it or not, he'd already decided.

Blood at the corner of my mouth. I tilted my head up and looked at him.

"I didn't take it."

"Stop lying." He cut me off, voice going colder. "Avery is not the type to make something up. You took advantage of her being soft-hearted and now you want to play innocent?"

Avery sobbed louder in his arms. Her fingers twisted into his tie. Her face was buried in his chest and her shoulders heaved, but I saw her head tip up for just a second and glance at me. She was smiling.

Trash. She mouthed it at me, clear as anything.

My teeth were chattering. I wanted to lunge across the room and tear her apart. But I couldn't. Luciano hadn't seen any of it.

He was focused on the woman in his arms, voice going soft enough to melt. "Don't cry, Avery. The ring is gone, it's gone — I'll get you a better one. Not worth ruining your eyes over something like this."

"But it was the only thing my mom left me..." Avery whimpered.

"I know, I know." He stroked her back. "It's not your fault. I'll apologize on her behalf. Okay?"

I was on my knees. The pain came in waves from the floor, from my knees, from somewhere deeper, a hollow ache that hurt more than any of it.

It's not your fault.

He hadn't asked if my knees were bleeding. He hadn't even looked down to see what I was kneeling on: broken glass, the pieces of a shattered drinking cup.

I let out a sound that was almost a laugh. Tears slid down my face, not from grief but from a final, clear-eyed reckoning with my own stupidity.

I remembered once, years ago, when Luciano got cornered by a rival crew and took a bullet. In the dark of an alley, I used my bare hands to knock out two men twice my size, then carried him three city blocks to an underground clinic.

The doctor said another half hour and he wouldn't have made it. When he came around, he held my hand and said, "Nina, I owe you my life."

Now, over a ring, knowing exactly who I was, he didn't believe a single word I said.

"You've really let me down." He turned to face me, voice flat with disappointment and disgust. "I thought you were different. Guess I was wrong. Avery came in good faith and you put her through this. Do you feel anything?"

I opened my mouth, closed it. The words dried up in my throat.

Avery lifted her face right on cue, eyes still red-rimmed, voice gone soft. "Luciano, my head hurts."

He was instantly alarmed. "What's wrong? Is it the old thing again?"

"Mm." She folded into him. "Hold me and it'll pass."

He pulled her close with the careful hands of someone holding something irreplaceable, then looked back at me like a knife.

"Nina, if you have a single shred of conscience left, you get on your knees and apologize to Avery right now."