The Don Made Me Fake My Death, Then Lost Me Forever

When Dante Cordano, the Don who had sworn to destroy my family, locked me away at his estate in Vienna, I didn't think I'd survive the winter. But he didn't torture me. Instead, he wiped out every gang that had ever humiliated me and put my name on every territorial agreement he signed. After 1,000 days and nights in his tender trap, I fell for him completely, lost in his kisses. But the night before the four families sat down for peace talks, his personal guard brought his first love, Isabella Marchi, out of a safe house. She was supposed to be dead. So that was why he'd put me on a pedestal. He wanted his old enemies to think I was his weak spot, so I'd be the target in her place. He cupped my face and pressed a syringe into my hand. It was filled with a nerve agent strong enough to make someone appear dead for 48 hours. He coaxed me. "Take it. Once your coffin leaves the cemetery, a helicopter will fly you to Switzerland. You'll never want for anything for the rest of your life." My legs shook as I dragged myself back to the Gariboldi estate, to the family I was born into, and begged my former fiancé, Marco Ferri, to take me away. Marco stroked my hair and gently handed me a cup of hot cocoa, just as he had when we first fell in love. But half an hour later, Marco himself was loading a silenced pistol. My father set an urn on the table, already labeled for my fake death. My mother smiled as she laid out the blood packs I'd need to stage it. They stood around me, their voices cold and perfectly polite. "Cordano has agreed to give up three docks. As long as you 'die' with dignity, everyone gets to live." The Don wanted his true love back. My former love wanted territory. My family wanted to cling to whoever held the power. The whole world was forcing me to obey and turn myself into a corpse. In front of them all, I plunged the needle into an artery in my neck. There was no place for me anywhere in this world. So I would go nowhere at all. Chapter 1 After Dante left, I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window for a long time. The syringe of blue nerve agent sat on the coffee table within reach. For 48 hours, every sign of life would disappear. Once my coffin was out of the cemetery, someone would come and take me away. He'd even prepared a new identity for me. Anna. An orphan who'd inherited a distant relative's fortune in Switzerland. No ties, no attachments, and no reason ever to set foot in this underworld again. My confidante, Agatha Moro, stared at the new identity papers, her eyes red. "Miss Chiara, he's even decided what you'll be called for the rest of your life." I put the papers away in a drawer. "Saves me the trouble. Isn't that nice?" Everyone knew that Dante, the Cordano family's new Don, had taken the eldest daughter of his sworn enemies, the Gariboldi family. Me. He'd snatched me right out of my own engagement party and locked me away on his estate. For my sake, he'd defied a death warrant issued by the elders and personally shot three capos who dared to provoke me. He'd signed over to me a share of all shipping profits on the Rhine. He spoiled me so lavishly that every socialite in Europe envied me. There was only one thing he never did. He'd never slept with me. For a while, I thought it was a gentleman's code ingrained in him, his way of respecting the little dignity I had left. But I was nothing more than a gilded target he'd placed in the line of fire. His enemies had kept me in their sights for three years. Now that the curtain had risen, the stand-in had to leave the stage. Bruno, the butler, announced from outside the door, "Ms. Marchi has arrived." Isabella walked in wearing a pure white dress, followed by two armed bodyguards in black trench coats. She tipped her head back and studied the massive architectural rendering hanging over the fireplace. It showed a lavish floating casino that had yet to be built. In Dante's handwriting, the casino's name was "The Chiara." It was the birthday gift he'd given me the year before. Isabella gave a soft laugh. "The design's nice. The name's wrong, though." The architect, Klaus, immediately spread a new set of drawings across the table and started making changes. I watched them take the blueprint down. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Changing it, of course," Isabella said. Her voice was soft and cruel. "This casino is going up right where Dante and I watched the sunrise on our first date. "He promised he'd build me a palace like no other. "It was only after I was kidnapped that your name went on the blueprint." So even that grand promise, that one-of-a-kind gift, and that future with my name on it had never been mine. Someone dragged a scraper wet with sharp-smelling solvent across my name. The paint melted, and the word "Chiara" dissolved into a muddy blur. Agatha was so angry she was shaking. "If Ms. Marchi wants one, she can have a new one painted. Why destroy all of Miss Chiara's work right in front of her?" "Because Isabella wants to," Dante said as he came in. He went to Isabella's side. When he noticed a speck of dust on her hand, he immediately pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped it away. A black falcon was embroidered in one corner of the handkerchief. I'd stayed up three whole nights embroidering it for him, one stitch at a time. For once, he'd actually complimented me when I gave it to him. "Very elegant." That had made me happy for a long time. I hadn't known until that day that Isabella's code name was Falcon. Isabella leaned against his shoulder. "But Chiara doesn't seem to want to let it go." Dante followed my gaze to the ruined blueprint. "It's only a casino. "Isabella was tortured for five years because of me. Now she just wants back what belongs to her, and you're going to fight her for it?" I lowered my eyes. "I'm not." He seemed satisfied that I'd given in so meekly. "I know this is hard for you. "For three years, I kept your brother safe while he grew up, went easy on the Gariboldi family, and never truly treated you like a prisoner. "Even in Switzerland, I'll make sure you live comfortably for the rest of your life." He paused. "Chiara, learn to be content with what you have." I watched Klaus write a different name on the new drawings. It read "The Isabella." Little by little, her name erased every trace of my existence there. Dante was right. I should be content. For three years, he'd taken bullets for me and spent sleepless nights by my side. After working late on family business, he would sometimes kiss my forehead in secret. Even if it was all an act for his enemies, at least I hadn't known at the time. I'd truly fallen for him. But when I curled up in his arms, happy beyond reason because I thought I'd finally found somewhere I belonged, what did he see when he looked at me? Probably just a pawn that had finally been tamed. Klaus put down his pen. On the new blueprint, Isabella's name gleamed. Dante and Isabella looked so perfect together. As if that palace on the water had never held any trace of me at all. Chapter 2 The next day, Marco came to take me back to the Gariboldi estate. He still remembered my weak stomach. He'd even put a bottle of water and some medicine in the center console for me. "Have some. "It's the same medicine you used to get from the pharmacy around the corner from St. Stephen's Cathedral. Your blood sugar used to drop, and you couldn't go anywhere without it." I picked up the bottle and suddenly remembered what had happened three years earlier. That day, he had also been the one to send me off to negotiate with the Cordano family. I wouldn't get in the car. I held on to his arm with everything I had. But he pried my fingers off one by one, coaxing me in a low voice. "Chiara, I know you don't want to go. "But if you go and negotiate, the Gariboldi family will have room to breathe, and your brother will be safe. "Chiara, do it to save the lives of more than 100 people in our family." Before he shut the car door, he promised, "Once things calm down, I'll find a way to arrange a trade and bring you back. I promise." And like a fool, I believed him for three years. That was why, during my first year as a prisoner, I would have starved myself or slit my wrists before I'd smile at a Cordano even once. And after that? The more territory the Cordano family took, the larger the Gariboldi family's share of the arms trade became, and Marco rose through the family's ranks. No one ever mentioned trading me back again. The car stopped in front of the Gariboldi estate. My mother hurried out and threw her arms around me. Her tears fell on my shoulder, but her hands pressed down hard on the brim of my hat. "Why did you come in through the front door? "What if the reporters got a picture? "Hurry. Get down to the cigar room." An elegant urn sat in the living room. My father was talking with the Cordano family's lawyer. "Make sure the seal on the death certificate looks authentic. "The funeral's tomorrow, so keep everything simple. We can't let anyone get suspicious before the joint peace talks." When he saw me come in, he only paused for a second. "You're back? "Good timing. Get in the coffin so we can check that the lining fits." My mother's face went stiff. "She just got home. What's the rush?" My father's face darkened. "Cordano only gave us one day. If the coffin is the wrong size and gives us away when we stage her death tomorrow, our whole family will be buried right along with her!" Marco pulled off his leather gloves, took me by the shoulders, and half carried, half pushed me into the coffin. It was incredibly cramped. The boards on both sides pressed tightly against my arms. I couldn't even turn on my side. He leaned down and murmured in my ear, "Hang on for 48 hours. "As soon as the hearse gets past the checkpoint at the edge of Vienna, I'll open the lid and let you out myself." My mother rushed to reassure me. "We've already drilled hidden air holes in the bottom. You won't suffocate, I promise." They'd thought of everything. They must have gone over it countless times. I sat up and saw a finished obituary lying on the table. It claimed that I had been held captive by a tyrant, had refused to submit, and had ultimately given my life to preserve my honor. My father picked it up. "Once you're 'dead,' the Gariboldi family can erase the stain of having traded away a bride for power. "Your brother is getting engaged next month to the interior minister's eldest daughter. We can't have his older sister branded as some tyrant's plaything." My mother quickly took my hand. "Don't overthink it. "All this talk about dying is just for outsiders. "You'll be living well in Switzerland. Why cling to appearances?" Marco added quietly, "You won't be stuck between me and Dante anymore. "You'll have an easier life somewhere no one knows you." How thoughtful. Everyone was thinking of me. If I didn't do as I was told and lie down in that coffin, apparently that made me the selfish, ungrateful one. I looked at my mother. "Once I'm in Switzerland, can I still send postcards home?" Her hand tightened around mine. My father said, "No. "You'll be 'dead.' Any contact at all would put everyone in danger." I asked, "What if I get sick?" Marco was quiet for a moment. "Dante will have someone take care of you." "Will you... come see me?" The crackle of logs in the fireplace was the only sound in the vast main hall. No one answered. I bent down slowly and carefully smoothed the white dress I was supposed to be "buried" in. "I understand." Marco pushed the glass of water in front of me. "Chiara, don't blame us. "Dante already showed you more mercy than you could have hoped for by sparing your life. "Besides, the three years you spent with Dante saved the Gariboldi family a lot of trouble. "Your sacrifice wasn't for nothing." I looked down at the glass of water. So he still remembered my weak stomach. But he'd probably forgotten that three years earlier, when I was sent to negotiate, I'd looked back at him. All that time, I had waited for him to change his mind. If he'd just said "Don't go," I would have run away with him, no matter what. But even when the car door shut, he never called me back. Now he was sending me off again. This time, he was sending me into a coffin. Chapter 3 As I was leaving the Gariboldi estate, my father handed me a Swiss bank draft payable to bearer. "If you need money on the way, use this. "Don't let anyone find out you came back here." As the car passed through the old warehouse district on the west side of town, I suddenly asked Paolo, the driver, to pull over. "The wine cellar at the estate has rats. "Could you go to the black market and get me some cyanide?" Paolo didn't suspect a thing. He took the cash I gave him and headed down a nearby run-down alley. Before long, he came back, handed me a small black bottle, and warned me, "The seller said this stuff kills in an instant. "Don't spill any. Even a tiny amount could kill you in three seconds." I put the bottle in my pocket. The last thing my father would ever give me had turned out to be useful after all. When I got back to the Cordano estate, the suite I'd lived in for three years had been stripped almost bare. The nameplate was gone. The carpet had been replaced. The staff was carrying my things out, one box after another. Isabella sat on the sofa, flipping through a stack of notes. When I was first brought here and wouldn't eat, Dante had left me a note that read, "Eat something, or I'll kidnap every chef in Vienna." One winter, when my hands and feet wouldn't stay warm, another note read, "I turned the floor heat all the way up. Come sit on my lap and warm up." When I came down with a cough and complained that the syrup was bitter, another note read, "Finish this, and tomorrow I'll take you to watch the sunset on the Danube. I promise." I'd locked those notes away in a box and treasured them for three whole years. Isabella read one and suddenly laughed. "Dante's still using the same old tricks to sweet-talk people." She tossed the note into the fire. The flames flared, and the note curled into ash. "When I was little and didn't want a shot, he always told me there'd be candy afterward. "Chiara, you didn't think he only said these things to you, did you?" She picked up another note. "That time you got shot, Dante waited outside the operating room for three days. Weren't you touched?" My fingers curled into my palms. Isabella leaned close and lowered her voice. "During those three days, he deliberately postponed his meetings with the other families and sent the Cordano family's entire medical team to treat you. "Our enemies fell for it. They thought he was neglecting everything for you, so they pulled half of the elite guards away from me. "That's when Dante's people finally found out where I was being held." I stared at her, stunned. When I got shot, I was in so much pain I could barely think. Dante held my hand and said my name over and over. I asked him if he'd leave me. He answered, "No." When I woke the next day, I was the one who kissed him, for the very first time. What I'd thought was love had only been another move in his game. When he'd watched me throw my arms around him in delight, had he thought I was ridiculous? I was only a tool to him, yet I'd actually fallen in love with him. The study door opened. Dante walked in. I looked at him and asked quietly, "Was every visit with my brother part of your plan?" "Yes," Dante said. "And you took me to charity galas to draw out the enemy's spies too?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "And the days I almost died from that gunshot wound?" I pressed. He was quiet for a moment. "Chiara, I had to get Isabella out." No excuses. Just an admission. Dante walked up to me. "Chiara, I admit I was using you at first. "But without me, the Gariboldi family would have lost its place among the four families three years ago. "I kept your family from falling. I kept your brother safe. And I gave you more power and money than most people ever see in a lifetime. "All I'm asking now is that you take a new name and start over in Switzerland." He frowned. "Isn't that enough?" Isabella leaned against him and said softly, "Chiara, don't blame Dante. "He spent five years looking for me. If he hadn't played a few tricks, how could he ever have gotten me out? "Besides, it's not like you came away with nothing. "For three years, he spoiled you in ways many women could only dream of." She made it sound so trivial. As if even that fake tenderness were a favor he'd granted me. But she didn't know I'd taken every bit of it as real. I'd even imagined that once Dante had the four families completely under his control, I'd have a child with him and spend the rest of my life at his side. Looking back, I was glad no one had ever known. Otherwise, the happiness I'd felt over those three years would have seemed like one huge joke. Dante looked at me. "You'll inject yourself with the drug at noon tomorrow. "Your 'body' will be taken out through the secret passage. Marco will be waiting on the other side." Isabella cut in, "Noon won't work. "Tomorrow I'm going to the port for the handover of those three docks. It'd be such bad luck to run into a funeral." Dante thought about it. "Then make it an hour earlier." He turned to Bruno and ordered, "Move quickly. Don't hold up Isabella's business." I listened quietly. Even the time of my "death" had to fit his new love's schedule. Fine. An hour earlier or later made no difference to a dead woman. Chapter 4 Before dawn, my room was already filled with white roses. Agatha helped me into the white dress, her tears falling onto the skirt. "Miss Chiara, I'll go with you to Switzerland." I told her, "Dante won't allow it." She replied, "I'll beg him." She had barely started to get up when the bodyguard outside the door said coldly, "Shut up! The Don has already shown you mercy. Take your severance pay and go back to the countryside! "Ms. Gariboldi is going to Switzerland under a new name. No one who knows her past is allowed near her! "Push this any further, and you'll be executed for leaking secrets!" Agatha looked at me through her tears. "You always have nightmares. Without me, who will be there to talk to you?" I pressed a signed pardon into her hand. "Then I'll sleep with the light on." As they led Agatha away, she kept looking back. "Miss Chiara, in 48 hours, you have to wake up." I watched them shut the door on her and didn't answer. My parents and Marco had arrived. My mother pressed a small cross necklace into my hand. Inside was a photo of my brother as a little boy. "All alone in Switzerland, you're bound to get homesick. "Mom can't come see you, so keep this necklace with you." Then she quickly added a warning. "But whatever you do, don't try to contact us. "Your brother is taking over the family next month. If anyone finds out you're alive, the elders will vote him out." I ran my fingers over the cold metal of the cross. It was a keepsake from her own mother and her most treasured possession. She was willing to give me that, but not to keep me. Maybe she really didn't want to let me go. But whatever she felt was nothing compared to the Gariboldi family's power, my father's position, and my brother's future. Marco stood off to one side. "The estate in Switzerland is ready. "There's a big riding stable out back. You'll like it." I glanced at him. "I like shooting." He froze. I didn't say anything more. In the first year of our engagement, he'd built a shooting range with me on the hill behind the estate. Back then, he'd promised that once we were married, we'd travel the world and shoot at every range we could find. Later, the range was finished, but he became too busy dealing with the other families and never went there with me again. Then Dante snatched me away from our engagement party. Marco didn't even remember what I liked anymore. It was almost 11 a.m., and Dante still hadn't shown up. Bruno came in. "Ms. Marchi scratched her neck trying on jewelry. "The Don says Ms. Gariboldi has always been sensible, so there's no need to wait for him." My father immediately urged them, "In that case, let's begin. "The handover ceremony at the docks is about to start. Don't let the 'funeral' spoil the celebration." Marco held out the syringe of nerve agent to me. I took it. Using the wide folds of my skirt to hide what I was doing, I drew the cyanide from the other small bottle into the syringe as well. The blue liquid swirled, then quickly went still. My mother came over with a cup of hot cocoa. "Chiara, you hate bitter things. "Drink it. You'll be all right." I looked at her and suddenly remembered something from when I was very young. Once, when I had a high fever, my mother held me all night without closing her eyes. She told me the roses on the estate had bloomed more beautifully than ever on the day I was born, so my father named me Chiara, which means light. She also used to say, "Our Chiara is the light of the Gariboldi family. "Wherever you go, there will always be a place for you at home." I'd believed that for more than 20 years. That belief lasted until today, when they had an urn waiting for me on the estate and sent me back here themselves. Marco said quietly, "Go ahead and inject it. "You'll just sleep for 48 hours. "When you wake up, everything from before will be over." My father also urged me on. "Chiara, once you're gone, both families' problems are solved. "You've always been such a sensible girl. Help the family one last time." Isabella will be the Donna of the Cordano family. Dante will be reunited with the love of his life. Marco will get his three docks and secure his position. My father will keep his power. My mother will secure my brother's future. All I have to do is press the plunger, and they'll have everything. I raised the syringe to the artery in my neck. I closed my eyes, drove the needle in, and pushed the plunger down. Beside me, my father said, "Hurry. Don't leave a mark." My mother held my hand, her tears falling between my fingers. "Chiara, take good care of yourself in Switzerland. "Don't hold this against Mom." The poison worked fast. The voices around me drifted farther and farther away. I clutched the cross necklace, and through the haze, I saw the garden from my childhood again. My mother sat among the rosebushes, smiling and holding her arms out to me. She said, "Chiara, come home." But this time, I no longer knew where home was. The Gariboldi family would only keep an urn for me. Marco would only escort my coffin to the grave. Dante had prepared an estate, a fortune, and even a new name for me. They were willing to give me anything. But not one of them was willing to say, "You can stay." All my life, I'd listened to my parents, my fiancé, and Dante. They told me to negotiate, so I went. They told me to give up my fiancé for their own gain, give up my name, and spend the rest of my life alone in Switzerland. I used to think that if I were a little more obedient, they might love me a little more. Only then, at the very end, did I understand: obedient or not, a pawn gets thrown away when the game is over. Dante suddenly called from outside the door, "Did she inject it?" Someone answered in a low voice, "She just did." The footsteps stopped beside me. Dante seemed to notice something. He frowned. "Why didn't anyone give her hot cocoa? "She loves the hot cocoa made from the beans that old woman grinds by hand. She won't be able to get it in Switzerland." I wanted to tell him there was no need. My mother was holding my hand, repeating, "You're just going to sleep. "Chiara, when you wake up, everything will be fine." My hand slowly slipped from hers. The last bit of feeling in my chest finally faded away. This time, no matter where they told me to go, I didn't have to go anywhere.