His Life for My Finger

Over the next few days, I was locked away in the storage room.

Luca seemed to savor the thrill of holding my life in his hands. Each day, someone would drop off scraps of food, barely enough to keep me alive.

My wounds festered, and the fever wouldn't break.

Silas was going crazy.

He sneaked out to get anti-inflammatory medicine and a fever reducer, then clumsily gave me the injection and fed me the medicine.

Through my fevered haze, I noticed fresh bruises marring his skin.

I knew Luca had found him out and beaten him, but he never said a word.

When I woke, he was there with that goofy, warm smile, peeling a soft-boiled egg in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world and offering it to me.

I brushed my fingers against the bruises at the corner of his mouth, my chest tightening with pain. "Silas, was all this really worth it for me?"

He pressed his hand against my mouth to silence me. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he whispered, "You're my light."

I spent 20 years thinking that if I were dutiful and smart enough, Luca would care for me, and the Rossis would finally acknowledge me.

I threw myself into everything—piano, chess, painting, and anything that might make me useful. I handled Luca's business, covered his mistakes, and even risked my life to save him from a car crash. And for all that, I was nothing more than a dog to the Rossi famiglia.

The only person who ever treated me like a human being was Luca's mute brother, whom I had ignored for 20 years.

By Wednesday, Luca had sent a dress. It wasn't couture—it was a maid's uniform, designed for nothing but pure humiliation. He expected me to wear it at his engagement party and kneel before Sofia like I was nothing.

Rage flared in Silas when he saw the dress. Just as he was about to tear it to shreds, I stepped in and held him back. "Don't."

I picked up the black-and-white uniform and calmly said, "It doesn't matter what I wear. What matters is who owns this place after tonight."

The gauze on my left hand still oozed blood. I slid on a black velvet glove to hide my mangled fingers.

"Silas, help me out."

He pulled on an old, ill-fitting suit—one Luca had thrown away years ago. Even so, his broad shoulders and narrow waist gave him a commanding presence that made even Luca pale in comparison.

We stepped out of the storage room and toward the grand ballroom.

Rossi Manor was drenched in opulence. The city's elites packed the room, and the press swarmed the entrance like a tide.

Luca looked like a prince in his white suit.

Sofia clung to his arm in a gown worth a fortune. The Ossuary Signet on her hand glinted coldly under the lights. She had wrapped it with thread just to make it fit, but that didn't stop her from showing it off.

"This is a gift from Luca. He said it's an heirloom of the Rossi famiglia, meant only for the Donna to wear."

"Wow, Mr. Rossi really spoils Ms. Constanzo, huh?"

"Didn't Alessia show up today, too?"

"For what? To humiliate herself?"

The murmurs grew as the grand doors slowly opened.

Silas and I entered, and the cameras went wild.

I stood in the maid uniform beside Silas, wearing a calm expression.

"Well, well, if it isn't Alessia. Why are you dressed like that?"

Sofia feigned shock, covering her mouth. "Alessia, you may not be part of the Rossi famiglia, but today's a day of celebration. Why are you dressed like a servant? Are you upset that Luca didn't get you a new haute couture gown?"

Sofia's act flipped the situation, making me look small and ungrateful in front of everyone.

Luca snorted and stepped forward.

"This is exactly what she deserves," he said, looking at me coldly.

Then he gestured to the red carpet and added, "Alessia, get down on your knees. Serve Sofia her tea like the servant you are."

A maid brought the cup. Luca grabbed it and held it in front of me.

"Get down on your knees," he ordered.

A hush settled over the ballroom. Everyone was waiting for the show to unfold.

I looked at the tea, then at Sofia's smug smile.

I didn't take it. Instead, I looked up at the crowd, then shifted my gaze to the doors.

Just then, the massive doors creaked open, and an elderly woman appeared in a wheelchair, wheeled forward by the household staff. Her face was gaunt, yet her authority remained undiminished.

She was Donna Valeria Alberto, the true ruler of the Rossi famiglia. She had been abroad recuperating, and everyone had assumed she was on her deathbed. Even Luca hadn't expected her sudden return.

Luca's face went pale as he rushed forward. "Nonna, when did you get back? You didn't even tell me…"

I had Silas track down the butler and pass the message to Valeria so that she would return for me to transfer the Marino family's assets.

Her gaze was fixed on the Ossuary Signet gleaming on Sofia's finger.

"You fools!"

Luca froze. "Nonna, what's the matter? Today is supposed to be a celebration of my rise as Don and my engagement to Sofia—"

"Celebration?"

Valeria shook with fury. She grabbed her cane and brought it down hard on Luca. "What celebration? You blind, worthless stupido! Do you even know whose ring that is? Do you know who Alessia is?"

Luca flinched but didn't move, whining, "She's just an orphan. The ring belongs to the Rossi famiglia."

"Shut up! Who dares call her an orphan? You have no idea the disaster you've unleashed. Your arrogance has pushed the Rossi famiglia to the brink! How did we end up with a stupido like you in the famiglia?"