Chapter 2
LARISSA
Barga, Italy
Three months ago
FINGERING MY NECKLACE—a gift from my cousin, delivered just this morning—I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in wait.
The click of her heels gives away her approach, but I now know that sound is intentionally meant to strike terror into the hearts of those who have crossed her.
Certain she’s aware it’s one of her best intimidation tactics.
Everything she does is purposeful yet so expertly executed that it seems unintentional, which makes her one of the most formidable women in the world.
At least to those who know of her. A woman who’s spent years crafting me into a replica of her for this purpose, for this very day.
Though I’m rattling with nervous excitement, I show absolutely no trace of it as I gaze into my reflection.
When the clicks stop, Tula appears, her eyes meeting mine in the glass, a slight softness in her return stare before it disappears, and she begins to circle me in appraisal.
After one thorough sweep, she stops in front of me and brings her most potent gaze to mine.
In the next second, she nods her consent.
A simple gesture to some, but a powerful one for me. An approval that sets me free.
I’m ready.