Chapter 66 Chapter 66

Chapter 66 Chapter 66
\[ IRIS’S POV \]

The sun was hot, but the water felt cool on my legs. I sat on the edge of the pool, kicking my feet. Mira was splashing around like she didn't have a care in the world.

"Get in, Iris! Don't be a boring babe!" Mira shouted. She did a backflip into the deep end, her laughter echoing off the stone walls.

"I’m fine right here," I called back. I wasn't in the mood to play.

I could feel eyes burning into my back. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was Sandy. She was sitting on a sun chair, gripping her drink so hard her knuckles were white. If looks could kill, I’d be at the bottom of the pool already.

Mira swam over to me and rested her arms on the edge. "Ignore her," she whispered, nodding toward Sandy. "She’s just salty because Salvatore chose you.”

“I did not force him to, not like I want any of this.”

“And yet you’re enjoying every bit of it, bad gurl,” Mira said laughing.

"She’s just a side chick who got dumped before she even started," Mira laughed. She splashed some water on my knees. "Come on, jump in! Or are you scared to get your hair wet?"

"In your dreams, Mira," I teased.

"So," Mira said, resting her arms on the edge of the pool. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Spill it, Iris. Have you and Salvatore actually fucked yet?"

I nearly choked on my own breath. "Eww! Mira! Don't ask me about that!"

"What? It’s a simple question!" Mira laughed, splashing a bit of water at my knees. "The way he looks at you, I figured he’d already dragged you to his bed and stayed there for a whole day."

"Stop it," I said, feeling my face heat up. I looked away, trying to focus on the sparkling water instead of the image of Salvatore’s hands on me. "It’s not like that. We haven't... we're not..."

"Oh, please. You're blushing," Mira teased. "The big, bad boss is totally whipped. Does he at least kiss well? Or is he all 'grrr, I’m a mafia king' even in the bedroom?"

"I am not talking about his kissing with his sister," I snapped, though I couldn't help a small smile. "That’s just gross."

"Fine, keep your secrets," Mira said, rolling her eyes. She did a graceful backflip into the deep end. "But I see the way you look at him too. You're not as innocent as you pretend to be."

Sandy marched toward us, her face twisted in a nasty triumphant grin. She doesn't look mad anymore,  she looked like she had just won the lottery.

"Well, well," Sandy sneered, stopping right in front of my chair. "It looks like you’re all over the internet, bitch, Snatching That’s all you know how to do, isn't it?"

I looked up at her, my heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"

"What are you talking about, Sandy?" Mira asked, swimming to the edge and pulling herself up to sit next to me. Her playful mood vanished instantly.

"I’m saying her own family has turned their back on her," Sandy laughed. She leaned down, thrusting her phone right into my face. "Everyone knows what you are now. You didn't just steal Salvatore, you betrayed your own blood."

My breath stopped as I looked at the screen. It was a live news broadcast, and Sofia was there. She was standing in front of a crowd of reporters, looking pale and tearful, playing the part of the victim perfectly.

The headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen made my blood turn to ice: "RUSSO HEIRESS REVEALS SISTER’S BETRAYAL: IRIS RUSSO RAN AWAY WITH THE ENEMY."

"Look at her," Sandy mocked, pointing at Sofia’s sobbing face on the screen. "She’s telling the whole world how you sold out your father and ran off with a Moretti. You’re not a treasure anymore, Iris. You’re a traitor. And trust me, the internet is eating you alive."

I felt the world tilt. My sister was on national TV, painting me as a villain while.

"She’s lying," I whispered, my voice trembling. "She knows why I left."

"Doesn't matter if it's a lie," Sandy whispered, leaning closer so only I could hear. "In our world, reputation is everything. And yours just went up in flames. The only problem is dragging my Savvy’s name down with your sorry ass, and that I will make you pay for."

\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

\## SOFIA ##

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, turning side to side. I looked good, more than good. I was wearing a tight, designer dress that hugged every curve, and my makeup was flawless. If I was going to be on every news channel in the country, I was going to look like a star.

Esther stood by the door, crossing her arms as she watched me apply a final layer of gloss.

"Don't you think that's a bit much, Sofia?" Esther asked, her voice tight. "You’re supposed to be a sister in mourning. You look like you’re going to a club, not a press conference."

I rolled my eyes at her reflection. "I need to look peng for the cameras, Esther. People don't want to look at a bridge troll. They want to see a beautiful girl who has been wronged. It makes for better TV."

Before Esther could argue, the door swung open and Father walked in. He stopped dead, his eyes scanning me from my expensive heels to my perfectly curled hair. His face darkened instantly.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "You look far too flashy for someone whose sister has been taking by our greatest enemy."

"I told her so," Esther chimed in, sounding smug.

Father ignored her and stepped closer to me, his gaze cold. "change. Now. Put on something plain, something that makes people believe your heart is breaking. And wash that paint off your face. No makeup."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off with a sharp look.

"If we want the world to turn against the Morettis and force Iris back into this house, we have to play the part perfectly," he commanded. "Victims don't wear designer silk, Sofia. They wear grief."

I let out a frustrated huff, but I knew better than to push him when he was in this mood.

"Yes, Father," I said, reaching for the zipper of my dress. "I’ll change."

\# The broadcast#

I walked into the room with my head down, my shoulders slumped just like Father told me. I had wiped off the lipstick and traded the designer dress for a plain, oversized sweater that made me look small and fragile.

As I sat down in front of the microphones, the bright lights of the cameras hit me. I looked out at the sea of reporters and felt a surge of excitement, but I quickly buried it. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing them to water until a single, perfect tear rolled down my cheek.

"My name is Sofia Russo," I started, my voice trembling and thin. I looked directly into the main lens, making sure I looked as pitiful as possible.

"As you all know... my engagement party didn't go as planned. My sister..." I choked back a fake sob, covering my mouth with a shaking hand. "My sister stole what belongs to me. She ran away with my man."

A gasp went through the room. The reporters started scribbling frantically, their flashes blinding me.

"We tried to protect her reputation," I continued, dabbing at my eyes with a crumpled tissue. "We tried to tell ourselves she was taken against her will. But the truth is much harder to bear. Iris was not kidnapped."

I let the silence hang for a moment, letting the weight of the lie settle over the crowd.

"She went with Salvatore Moretti because she wanted to. She betrayed her family, her father, and her sister for a man she barely knows. She isn't a victim... she's a thief who took my future and ran."

The room exploded into noise as every reporter started shouting questions at once. I just lowered my head and let the tears fall, knowing that somewhere, on a screen in the Moretti empire, Iris was watching her life turn into a nightmare.