I stared at the door as it closed behind him. My tears burned down my cheeks like acid.

Fine. If this is how it's going to be—so be it.

I just stood there, staring after the man I used to love, tears searing tracks down my face. Fine. If that's how he wanted to play it—then so be it.

I turned to pack my bags, my hands steady despite the trembling in my chest. But then the phone rang again.

"Miss Giordano," the consigliere's assistant said cheerfully, his voice dripping with false courtesy, "since you've dropped the charges in your mother's case, we're closing our investigation. Just letting you know."

The line went dead.

I hadn't dropped anything.

I froze. The words hung in the air like smoke from a discharged weapon. Dropped the charges? What the hell were they talking about?

I rushed to the attorney's office as fast as my legs could carry me, my heels striking the rain-slicked pavement like desperate heartbeats. But by the time I arrived, breathless and wild-eyed, the file—my mother's case file—had already been fed through the shredder. Confetti. That's all that remained of justice. Ribbons of white paper scattered across the mahogany desk like funeral flowers.

Everything blurred. I collapsed to my knees on the Persian rug, my fingers clawing at the consigliere's sleeve, my voice fracturing into something raw and unrecognizable.

"You promised. You swore on your honor you'd help me get justice for my mother!"

The lawyer—a man who'd built his reputation on representing the Families—looked away, unable to meet my eyes. He exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with resignation.

"The person who withdrew the complaint… was your husband. Colino Marconi." He paused, letting the name settle between us like a blade. "None of us are in a position to go against the Marconi heir. The Family's reach extends further than you know. I'm truly sorry, Miss Giordano."

And just like that, with a small nod to his men, he had two soldiers escort me out into the street. Their grips were firm but not cruel—professional. They'd done this before.

But I wasn't giving up.

There had to be someone in this godforsaken city who still had a spine. Someone who hadn't been bought, threatened, or broken by the Syndicate's iron fist.