When She Blooms, They All Wither

Chapter 3 The Enemy's Sanctuary

The Falcone estate sat behind dark stone walls in the hills. Dante's mansion displayed its wealth in every room.

Here, the old money showed in the guards, the gates, and how little anyone needed to boast.

Cassius took me to a fully equipped medical wing, where a team of specialists examined my leg and ordered new scans. Their recovery plan offered far more than the public hospital's prognosis.

Cassius stayed by the window and let them work.

Later, I settled into a suite with a fire in the hearth. Cassius came in carrying a large leather-bound scrapbook instead of flowers or jewels.

I opened it.

The first page held a faded newspaper clipping from fifteen years ago. In the photograph, ten-year-old me took a bow after my first solo performance. The headline read: *A Firebird in the Making*.

I turned page after page. Cassius had kept fifteen years of program leaflets, ticket stubs, magazine spreads, and blurry photographs taken from audience seats. My career was all there.

Tears blurred the girl in the photographs. I had spent years helping Dante erase her, and Cassius had kept every scrap.

"Dante dressed you in white," Cassius said from the doorway. "He tried to make you his perfect, fragile swan. But I always saw the firebird."

I bent over the scrapbook and sobbed. Cassius waited, then held out a silk handkerchief when I could breathe again. He sat beside me and said nothing.

For the next three months, physical therapy set the rhythm of my days. Cassius often read in the armchair while I worked with my therapist. He gave me time and kept his pity to himself.

The night of the annual Mafia Summit, he came to my room.

A blood-red velvet gown lay on the bed. The cut was regal, the color impossible to ignore.

Beside it lay a cane, replacing the medical-grade aluminum one I had used. Polished black obsidian formed the shaft, and a snarling falcon's head formed the handle.

The weight sat well in my hand.

A scepter, then.

I met his eyes in the mirror. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"He will be there tonight. With her."

I faced the mirror and adjusted my grip on the cane. The woman in red looked ready.