She had been playing the role of the perfect daughter.
Obedient, docile, sensible.
Accompanying her to banquets.
Handling favors for her.
Even when Serafina was busy cleaning up the "dirty work," she would personally deliver meals to the law enforcement office.
She knew what she wanted.
And how to get it.
And me.
I knew nothing.
The night grew deeper.
The manor lights remained bright.
Infrared surveillance cameras swept across the high outer walls.
Armed guards stood ramrod straight.
They protected this family.
A place I never truly belonged to.
I floated in the night.
A cold wind pierced my body.
Suddenly, I wanted to ask.
In this night surrounded by lights.
Would she, for a fleeting moment?
Think of me.
Think of her—
Daughter celebrating her birthday.
For the past few days, almost no one at Ferraro Manor has slept a wink.
Not because of grief.
But because—things have spiraled out of control.
In the underworld, corpses are acceptable.
But not on their own turf, and without a trace.
That would be a challenge to authority.
And an insult to "Donna Ferraro."
The family's law enforcement organization, "The Justice Organization," has mobilized its entire force.