Savannah didn't cry. She rarely did. But the pallor of her face, the way her body sagged against mine, told me she was barely holding on. If I hadn't been gripping her so tightly, I might have crumpled too. But I couldn't afford to. I had to be strong—for her.
"Of course," Father hissed, his voice razor-sharp with fury as his glare settled on Savannah. "I should have known it was you causing trouble again."
Before I could react, he wrenched her away from me, his fingers digging cruelly into her arm as he dragged her forward. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, he struck her across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the room.
I lurched forward, heart pounding, but before I could throw myself between them, his arm lifted again. I braced for the second blow, but it never came.
Liam caught my father's wrist mid-air.
The room shifted. The air grew thick, charged with a tension so potent it felt like the walls themselves were bracing for an explosion.
Liam's fingers were a steel trap around my father's wrist. His left hand clenched with unwavering force, while his right still gripped the knife—the same knife that had severed Rico's finger only moments ago. The blade glistened, slick with fresh blood.
My breath hitched. My father was the ruler of this house, the law in our world. For Liam to intervene—it was a challenge, a slap to my father's pride.
Salvatore's blade was drawn in an instant. Father's hand flew to his gun. Jace, Rafael, and the others followed suit. A dozen weapons were raised, the room teetering on the brink of bloodshed. Only Rico's broken whimpers filled the heavy silence.
"I mean no disrespect," Liam said, his voice smooth, controlled—yet edged with the quiet authority of a man who feared nothing. "But Emily is no longer your responsibility. The moment you made her my fiancée, you lost the right to punish her. She belongs to me now."
Father's gaze flickered to the ring on my finger before he inclined his head slightly. A small, calculated movement, but it was enough. Liam released his wrist. The tension in the room loosened—but no one lowered their weapons.
"That's true," Father murmured. And then his lips curled into something cruel. "Then would you like the honor of beating some sense into her yourself?"
Liam's sharp eyes found mine, unreadable and cold. My breath caught.
"She didn't disobey me."
Father's lips thinned. "Perhaps. But as I see it, Emily will be living under my roof until the wedding, and since honor forbids me from laying a hand on her, I'll have to find another way to ensure her obedience."
And then, without hesitation, he turned to Savannah.
The second slap was harder. Savannah's head snapped to the side, a bright red bloom staining her cheek.
"For every one of your wrongdoings, Emily, your sister will take the punishment in your stead."
My fingers curled into fists. I burned with hatred so fierce, so consuming, I thought it might set my skin alight. But I forced my face to stay blank. I couldn't let them see.
"Salvatore," Father commanded, his voice calm as if he hadn't just struck my sister. "Take them to their rooms. And make sure they stay there."
Salvatore sheathed his knife with a soft click and gestured for us to move. I grabbed Savannah's hand, pulling her with me, her body trembling with silent rage. As we passed the blood pooling on the hardwood floor, past Rico's severed finger lying in it like discarded trash, Savannah gagged. Her body shuddered, her face twisted in horror.
"No," I whispered fiercely. "Look at me."
Her tear-filled eyes met mine. A thin trickle of blood from her lip dripped onto her chin, staining her nightgown. I squeezed her hand tighter. I'm here. I won't let them break you.
"Women," Father scoffed behind us. "They can't even bear the sight of a little blood."
I could feel Liam's gaze burning into my back as the door slammed shut behind us.
"I hate him," Savannah hissed as we hurried after Salvatore through the dimly lit corridor. "I hate them all."
"Shh." I squeezed her hand in warning. Salvatore was loyal to my father. No matter how much he cared for us, he wouldn't betray his oath.
At Savannah's door, I tried to follow her inside, but Salvatore blocked me with a shake of his head. "You heard your father."
I glared at him. "I need to help her clean her lip."
"It's nothing," he said dismissively. "Besides, you two together always means trouble. Do you really want to risk angering your father any more tonight?"
Savannah didn't argue. She simply let the door close between us.
Salvatore nudged me toward my own room.
I turned to him, my voice sharp. "A room full of grown men stood by while my father beat a helpless girl—that's the legendary courage of Made Men?"
"Your future husband stopped your father," he reminded me.
"From hitting me," I shot back. "Not Savannah."
Salvatore sighed, as if I were a child too naive to understand the world. "Liam might rule New York, but this is Chicago, and your father is Consigliere."
"You admire him," I whispered, horrified. "You watched him mutilate Rico, and you admire him."
Salvatore shrugged. "Your cousin is lucky The Vice didn't cut off something else. Liam did what any man would have done."
"Any man in our world."
Salvatore ruffled my hair, as if my words were amusing instead of filled with fury. "Go to sleep."
"Will you be guarding my door all night to make sure I don't sneak out again?" I challenged.
He smirked. "Better get used to it. Now that Liam's put a ring on your finger, he'll make sure you're always guarded."
I slammed the door shut. Guarded. Owned. Controlled. Even from afar, Liam had staked his claim, and tonight, he had proven he would enforce it in blood.
I thought my life would stay the same until the wedding, but I had been naive. Rico's severed pinky had been a warning.
Liam had left his mark. And from now on, my every move would be watched.
I left the lights on that night, fearing the darkness would bring back images of blood and cut flesh. But it didn't matter.
The nightmares came anyway.