Emma Bellucci wept in agony as her small fingers were caught beneath the heavy wooden fallboard of the grand piano

The soundproof holding cells in the sub-basement were a stark contrast to the opulent luxury of the estate above. They were stark, concrete boxes, illuminated only by harsh, caged bulbs.

Adrian unlocked the heavy steel door of the first cell. Camille Arden was huddled in the corner, her once-flawless emerald-green formal dress torn and stained with dirt. Her perfectly curled hair was a tangled mess. When the door opened, she scrambled backward, shielding her eyes from the sudden light.

"Adrian!" Camille wept hysterically, crawling toward him on her hands and knees. "Please! I've been in the dark for two days! I'm starving! Have mercy!"

Adrian looked down at her. The beautiful, aristocratic woman he had nearly married was entirely gone, replaced by a pathetic, groveling coward. He felt absolutely no pity.

"Don Falcone is dead," Adrian stated, his voice a low, terrifying rumble. "The Chicago syndicate is ashes. The men who paid you are gone, Camille."

Camille gasped, the final shred of her hope evaporating. "I'll do anything! I'll disappear! I'll never say a word to the police!"

"You will never speak to anyone again," Adrian corrected softly. "You attempted to torture my daughter to secure a paycheck. You are a parasite."

He didn't draw a weapon. He simply turned his back on her.

"Dante," Adrian called out. The underboss stepped into the doorway. "Transfer her to the offshore facility. She will remain in solitary confinement. For the rest of her natural life."