The woman in front of me is wearing Emily’s face—but there’s a stranger staring back.
Her eyes don’t blink. Her smile doesn’t reach her soul.
And I finally understand—I was never safe here.
There’s no trace of the kind, composed woman I once trusted.
Murder—that’s what I see in her eyes now. Deranged. Focused.
The woman I once knew is gone. In her place stands something brittle and rabid—eyes wide, jaw clenched, teetering on the edge of madness.
She clutches the knife tightly in her hand, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. Her lips curl into a bitter smile, her breathing uneven.
“You were meant to be dead,” she spits out through gritted teeth. “I gave you double the poison. Why didn’t you die!”
My breath catches. Ginny clutches onto my hand tightly, and I feel the rush of blood move past my ears. My heart hammers hard in my chest, the adrenaline triggering my emergency response.
I swallow hard, taking a slow step back and pulling Ginny with me. “Emily, please… you don’t have to do this. Just talk to me.”
“No, we’re past talking! You should’ve stayed gone!” She waves the knife and then points it right at me. “You need to leave so that I can keep him. Things were better when you weren’t here. You were never supposed to come here, that wasn’t the plan! Why didn’t you die like her!”
My stomach turns. So it’s true—every lingering look, every carefully placed lie—it was all her. She wanted me gone from the start.
Ginny shifts subtly in front of me, placing herself in Emily’s line of sight.
“Emily, listen to me. You don’t want to do this. This isn’t you.”
Her voice is calm, firm. But I see the tension in her jaw—she’s gauging every twitch of that knife.
“Just put it down. We can walk away. No one else has to get hurt.”
But Emily keeps going, her voice rising with every word, her eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing she sees. “Matteo was never meant for you. I was there before you. I took care of him, I understood him. And then you showed up, and suddenly, you matter?” She shakes her head violently.
“He looks at you like you’re the only thing that exists. He touches you like he’s forgotten everyone who came before.” Her voice quivers, steeped in resentment. “You stole him.”
“Emily, stop,” Ginny cuts in. “You don’t need to do this. Matteo doesn’t love her. You were right all along.”
Her tone is sharp and practiced. A lie, but a smart one.
Emily falters—just for a second.
I try to steady my breathing and keep my voice calm. Something within her snapped. I can see it from the deranged look in her eyes. All the sanity has left her, and all that remains is this crazy woman who seems in love with Matteo.
It all makes sense now. The way her eyes would linger on me. His mother’s necklace that she insisted I wear. All this time, she has been trying to sabotage us. The lingerie, the dinner, she knew all those things would only make him push me away further. It’s what she wanted.
“Emily, listen to me. You know Matteo doesn’t love me. He is just pretending with me like he did the last time. None of it is real.” I try to reason with her as I take another step back. Ginny and I are trapped in the sunken living area, and the only way to get out is to move toward her direction. “He doesn’t love me, and I can’t love a man like him.”
I will need to play along with whatever narrative she has built in her head.
Her eyes snap to mine, dark and manic. “Oh, but he does. And that’s the problem.” She steps closer, waving the knife in the air. “He never loved Beatrice, not like the way he loves you. I saw it in his eyes. I saw the way he moves and gravitates toward you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ginny scanning the room. Her gaze flickers—to the fireplace, the candlestick, the hallway beyond.
She’s reading the space like a battlefield.
She’s not just scared—she’s calculating.
I freeze, my heart hammering. The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be stabbed. I can’t have survived her poisoning only to be met by her knife.
Emily tilts her head, her smile widening. “All I had to do was wait. If you just died—like Beatrice—then everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. He would fall in love with me again. I just needed him for one night, that’s all. One night and I would fuck you right out of him.”
A chill runs down my spine. She is demented. This woman is a literal psycho who has been right under my nose this entire time.
“But it’s fine. I will kill you so he will come back to me.”
This can’t be how it ends—not after everything. Not here, not by her hand.
With a shrill cry, she lunges in our direction.
I barely have time to react. I drop Ginny’s hand as Emily makes it over the couch and swings the knife around, trying to nick one of us. Ginny and I scatter in opposite directions, forcing Emily to hesitate as she decides whom to go after. Her wild eyes settle on me.
Of course.
She grips the knife tightly and charges again. I grab the first thing I can reach—a small side table—and shove it toward her. The force isn’t enough to stop her completely, but it throws her off balance for a second. Just enough time for me to scramble toward the other side of the room.
“I am going to kill you, bitch!” she roars.
The words send a wave of cold terror through me, but I push it aside. I need to focus. I need to survive. Emily swings again, and this time, I don’t have anywhere to run. I duck, the blade missing me by inches. The movement sends me crashing to the ground, and before I can get up, she’s on me.
I barely catch her wrist before the knife plunges toward my chest. Her arms shake as I hold her back. I don’t have my full strength back, but it’s enough to keep her at bay.
“You ruined everything!” she hisses, pressing down with more force. The blade inches closer. My arms burn with the effort of holding her back, but I won’t let her win. I can’t.
With a burst of desperation, I shift my weight and roll us over, knocking the knife from her grasp. It clatters to the floor, and before she can reach for it, I throw a punch, my fist connecting with her cheek.
She lets out a blood-rippling scream that pierces my eardrums.
I scramble up, my breaths ragged, limbs trembling with exhaustion. I glance around frantically—where is Ginny? My chest tightens. Did she make it out? I don’t know. I don’t have time to find out. Emily is already coming at me again, eyes wild, hands clawing for skin.
Before she can reach me, there’s a sharp crack.
Emily’s body goes rigid. Her eyes widen in shock before rolling back, and she collapses onto the floor, motionless. Ginny stands behind her unconscious body, holding a heavy brass candlestick, her breathing just as ragged as mine.
She meets my eyes, her face pale. “Dumb psycho bitch. Are you okay, M?”
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I blink, my instincts returning to me. I lift my gaze from Emily and grab Ginny’s hand.
“We need to get out of here,” I whisper. “Tony should be just outside.”
Ginny nods, her hand tightens around mine, and we take off for the door. The only thing I can think about is the promise I made to my husband before he left.
Stay alive… If I have only one reason to survive, then it will be him.
Ginny and I race to the door, our footsteps pounding against the marble floors of the penthouse. We rip the door open and see Tony already there with his weapon drawn. I let out a scream and move to the side.
Tony has his eyes set behind me, and he moves into the penthouse. “Boss is on the way, get out of here, Maria.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I race with Ginny down the hallway and toward the elevator. When the doors open, I am met with a pair of familiar eyes. Without a second thought, I launch myself at him, not sure how he got to me so quickly.
“Amore.” Matteo buries his nose into the crook of my neck. “Are you okay?”
I don’t speak. I simply allow him to hold me. My body trembles as the last of the adrenaline seeps away.
“Gin, I got your message.” Dario is beside my husband, and he gathers his wife into his arms. “What the hell happened?”
I pull away from my husband, now noticing that he’s holding the elevator door open. I walk out into the hallway, now feeling safe with him here. Tears brim in my eyes.
He always somehow makes it just in time to save the day. “You’re here.”
“I am.” He cups the side of my face. “What the hell happened, Maria?”
I shake my head, not even knowing where to begin. “Emily… she was behind it. The poisoning. From the start.”
I swallow hard. “And she… she said I was meant to die… like her.”
A beat of silence.
Matteo stiffens. His breath hitches.
Then his whole body tenses, like a loaded gun cocked and ready.
His grip at my waist tightens—not to hurt, but to anchor. To keep himself from shattering.
“What did you just say?” he asks, quietly. Too quiet.
His jaw is clenched, stone-hard. A storm flickers behind his eyes.
“She said I was meant to die like Beatrice,” I whisper again.
He exhales—slow and sharp. Fury coils around every line of his body.
Tony comes back, panting for breath. “Boss—she’s gone.”
“Gone?” Ginny and I say at the same time.
No, no, there is no way that she can be gone. I saw her unconscious body lying on the floor only seconds before he arrived.
“What?” Matteo’s tone is ice-cold, but I can hear the fury brewing underneath it.
Tony shakes his head, almost like he too is in disbelief. “I searched the house. She’s not there. I think she may have taken the secret elevator in the kitchen. There are no other exit points but the front door.”
A shudder runs through me. The last thing I saw was her body hitting the ground. She should still be there. A part of me thinks I should’ve killed her. I should’ve taken the chance—ended it then and there.
But I’m not a killer.
Matteo exhales sharply, his jaw clenching. His grip on my waist tightens as if grounding himself. “Don’t just stand there. Gather the fucking men and find her. I want eyes on every street, every alley. Lock this fucking city down. You find that bitch and you bring her to me alive. And get Valerio on this and debrief him. I need all hands on deck for this one.”
Tony nods. “Yes, boss.”
All this time, the snake was in our backyard, and we had no clue. She was the one who taught me how to get close to Matteo. The one I confided in when the pain got too heavy. I thought she was my friend, but I was wrong.
Trust is a dangerous game in this world—and if today proved anything, it’s that putting it in the wrong hands can get you killed.
I shake my head in complete and utter disbelief. “She said I was meant to die… like the one before me.” I swallow hard, tears burning. “She killed her, Matteo. She killed her.”
I don’t realize I am crying until I taste the saltiness of the tears on my lips. As one tear falls, another comes in its place, and soon I am sobbing softly.
My husband pulls me closer into his chest. He soothes my back, holding me tight to his chest—and I cling to him like he’s the only thing holding the world together. Because right now, he is.
