Chapter 3The Last Bell at St. Patrick's

That afternoon, I drove out to Safehouse Seven.

I'd never imagined Damian would let anyone else stay there. So I'd left some personal things inside. Including the one thing my mother had left me before she died. A hand-painted antique porcelain music box.

I found the old chat log from the time Damian ditched me to spend Bella's birthday with her. I used that date, entered Bella's birthday, and the lock clicked open.

Bella was curled up on the couch watching TV.

And she was wearing the matching set Damian had custom-made for me last year when we went skiing in Switzerland.

"Viola, what are you doing here?"

Bella stood up, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her shirt.

I looked at her coldly. "Take it off."

Bella flinched. Her eyes went red instantly.

"Viola, I was just cold. This was sitting in the closet. Nobody was wearing it. I thought…"

"Take it off!"

I stepped forward, cutting off her soft little excuse.

"Viola! What are you doing?!"

Rapid footsteps behind me. Damian had shown up out of nowhere.

He pulled Bella behind him and glared at me, brows locked tight.

"Viola just told me to take my clothes off, Damian. Don't blame her…"

Bella hid behind him, her voice a wounded little whimper.

Damian's face went completely cold.

"Viola, you know Bella can't handle stress right now. Why would you come here just to fight her over a piece of clothing? Everything I taught you about patience and grace. Did you forget all of it?"

I didn't bother with his protective stance. I didn't argue with his guilt-tripping either.

I quietly gathered my personal things and the porcelain music box.

I was just turning to leave when Bella suddenly stepped out from behind Damian, like she wanted to grab my hand.

"Viola, don't be mad. I'll give the clothes back right now…"

Her movement was big. On purpose or not, her arm slammed hard into my hand.

Crack!

The porcelain music box hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

The winding key snapped loose, letting out a few shrill, off-key whimpers before going silent for good.

The living room fell into dead silence.

I stared at the pieces on the floor. The only thing my mother had left me.

"Ah… I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Bella covered her mouth, tears pouring down her face, cowering into Damian's arms.

"I just got so scared when Viola yelled at me…"

I lifted my eyes to Damian.

A flicker of guilt crossed his face. But a second later, he spoke again, laying down the verdict.

"Viola, Bella didn't mean it. It was just an old music box. Broken is broken. As the future Donna of the Caruso family, this loss of control disappoints me. You scared her."

I listened to him take her side, and I had nothing to say.

Before, I would've fought him tooth and nail, screaming to prove myself.

But now, looking at the two of them tangled in each other's arms, I felt nothing. Not a ripple.

"You're right. I lost control."

I didn't try to prove how "sensible" I was this time. I turned and walked toward the door.