His expression twisted. "Did my father tell you to leave?"

I tried pulling my hand again, but he held tighter, jaw clenched. "Answer me. Did my father ask you to go?"

"You're hurting me, Damiano!" I snapped.

He immediately let go, staring at the red mark on my wrist.

"You're not leaving, Serafina," he said, low and hard. "You're still part of this family, even if Dante is dead. I have no plans to take the Boss's seat."

I clutched my wrist, shocked. He should be glad I was leaving. He could finally be with Elena without hiding. What did he care?

"So… you don't want me to leave?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes.

He didn't answer. Just stared at me with an emotion I couldn't read. His right hand hung at his side, and I noticed the signet ring on his finger, perfectly still.

I looked away, my tears falling again.

"Serafina—" he started, but his voice was cut off by someone behind us.

Elena.

"Honey, why are you taking so long? You said you wouldn't be gone that long," Elena said, flashing me one of her fake smiles.

"Sis, how are you?" she asked, pulling me into a brief hug. "I know it's not easy to lose Dante."

Then she pulled back and looped her arm around him.

She gave me that fake, syrupy look of concern. I smiled back, cold as ice. "I'm fine. Why should I grieve? People leave. Nothing to cry about," I said flatly, catching the way Dante's jaw clenched. His eyes burned holes into me, like he didn't expect that answer.

Elena's gaze dropped to the boxes. "You're burning them?"

"Yeah. Why should I keep anything?" I shrugged.

"Aww, that's sad," she pouted, then turned to Dante. "Honey, we need to go. I have a follow-up at the hospital."

Dante didn't move. He stared at the box. "Don't burn that. I'll keep it. For my brother," he said.

I was about to argue, but he didn't give me the chance. He nodded once to one of the soldiers by the gate. The man stepped forward without a word and carried the box to a waiting car. My jaw clenched. What the hell was he doing? Why not just let me go? Why keep torturing me like this?

"Let's go," he said, and the two of them walked off like the perfect little couple. Elena's arm threaded through his. One of the enforcers fell into step behind them, hand resting near the holster beneath his jacket.

And that's when it hit me. No matter what I did, I'd never be Elena. Never be the one they chose. I'd never be enough.