"My daughter and I have stripped nearly every scrap of food from that neighborhood. Then the waterfront flooded, and even the dockworkers can't find a meal. We were on the verge of starving to death. I wouldn't take her back to that place if you made me a servant in this house."
It was laughable, really. The Ferrante compound had rooms enough for a small army, crawling with soldiers and household staff.
And Dante claimed he couldn't spare a single room for his own wife and daughter. Did he truly think I was that stupid?
In my last life, I never told him, not even on my deathbed, that my father was Don Enzo Castellano.
I had believed that standing by love meant something. That my devotion proved my worth.
In the end, I was nothing but a joke to them.
Five years rotting in that tenement on the wrong side of the waterfront, and none of it had mattered at all.
Dante's face went white. "What are you talking about? You were scrounging for food? I had money sent to you every month. Enough to live well."
I stared at him. "When did you ever send money?"
"In five years, all I received were your letters every few days. Not a single coin."
Dante whipped around, his eyes locking on Gianna.
Gianna's eyes reddened on cue. "Dear sister-in-law, you don't actually think I'm the one who withheld your allowance, do you?"
"I'll send someone to look into it right now. Whichever wretched little runner skimmed that money and pocketed it will answer for it."
She hurried off with her maid in tow. Half an hour later, she returned and had a scrawny young girl dragged before me, bound at the wrists and trembling so hard her knees knocked together.
"Sister-in-law, it was this worthless thing all along! She stole every dollar Dante sent you, month after month, to pay for her mother's hospital bills. I'll have the boys deal with her right here. Consider it justice served."
"That won't be necessary."
My voice was ice. Even I wasn't foolish enough to miss it. The girl was skin and bone, a scapegoat shoved forward to take the fall.
I turned to carry my daughter toward the private dining room where the Commission banquet was being held, but behind me, Gianna flicked a glance at her children.
In the next instant, her son and daughter charged at us, stones already in their fists, hurling them straight at my head.
"You evil woman! You're trying to steal our daddy! In your dreams!"