Page 56 of Auctioned Innocence
A small piece of paper, folded tiny and tucked where only I would find it.
My hands shake as I open it in a way the camera can’t see, recognizing the handwriting instantly.
Bold, exact strokes.
The penmanship of a man who commits fully to everything he does.
Hold on, principessa. One more day. Trust me.
Dante.
I press the note to my chest, tears finally spilling over after being held back by shock and fear.
In the distance, a clock chimes midnight, the sound carrying through the still night air.
The auction is tomorrow evening.
Less than twenty-four hours until I’m sold to the highest bidder.
One more day, Dante said.
One more day until…what?
Rescue?
Revenge?
Both?
I can survive anything for one more day. Can endure whatever humiliations tomorrow brings, knowing that Dante is out there, planning, preparing.
Knowing that my family hasn’t abandoned me.
After the tears subside, something colder and harder settles.
Something that feels like my father’s rage and my brother’s intelligence.
Something that was always there, perhaps, but is now crystallized by trauma and fury.
I wipe my face, breathe deeply, and begin to plan again.
Not escape—not yet.
But survival.
Observation.
Preparation for whatever Dante has in mind.
Madame Rouge thinks she’s broken me, thinks she’s shown me the cost of defiance and taught me to be docile.
She doesn’t understand who I am.
Doesn’t know that Renaldis don’t break—we regroup, we adapt, then we wait for the perfect moment.
But the Calabreses better pray his brother’s prison cell has room for two, because when this is over, I’m going to make him pay for every mark on Maisie’s back.
For every drop of Jonah’s blood.
