Liliana's POV

After they left, I managed to crawl to the door, but it was locked. I started banging on it with both fists, the sound swallowed by the tile and concrete.

"No, no, no," I mumbled, tears rolling down my cheeks.

My stomach hurt so badly as blood trickled down my thighs, pooling warm against the cold hospital floor.

I grabbed my phone and hurriedly opened it just as a voice note from Nadina popped up on the screen.

I tapped it and her mocking voice filled the restroom.

'Hey, bitch, so I mistakenly locked you up and put up a do not disturb sign. Oops, guess no one would find you now. Just bleed to death already and die!'

Immediately I finished listening to the voice note, it was automatically deleted.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I dialed Giacomo's number. He picked up on the fifth ring.

"Please, Giacomo, help me. I'm stuck in the bathroom. Nadina—"

"I know," Giacomo's cold voice sounded over the phone, interrupting me.

I paused as I stared at my phone, my mouth open in shock.

"You know she locked me up?" I asked, desperately hoping it wasn't what I was thinking.

"Yes, it's your punishment for trying to hurt her. Sleep on that cold dirty floor and reflect on yourself," Giacomo answered coldly.

Pietro's voice sounded immediately, "And don't come back if you aren't ready to beg for forgiveness!"

The line went dead immediately as I stared at my phone speechless.

The two people who had sworn a blood oath to protect me had just locked me up, leaving me in so much pain after the trauma I'd gone through in two days.

I was kidnapped, thrown from a moving car, lost my baby, all because of Nadina, and I'm the one who hurt her and should apologize.

That night I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt. My laughter sounded hollow, like someone who had lost her mind. The sound bounced off the tile walls and came back to me wrong, distorted, the laughter of a woman locked inside a room that smelled of bleach and her own blood in a building the Russo Family owned from basement to roof.

By morning, the cleaners found me passed out on the restroom floor. They took me to the Family doctor, who sighed when he saw me.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Liliana?" he asked me with a weary sigh.

I gave him a teary look. "I have no idea, doctor."

"You've lost so much blood, Liliana. You've been through a lot of stress. I'm afraid if you don't rest and recover, your body could face irreversible damage," the doctor advised me.

I nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

"Also, the nurse will bring the bill. You don't have coverage under any Family account on file with us," the doctor informed me.

I sat up on the bed, wincing and frowning. "What do you mean, doctor? I have coverage under my husband's account."

The doctor frowned as he tapped on his phone. "I'll call the nurse in accounting to come sort this out."

Shortly after he left, the nurse stepped inside holding a laptop.

"Miss, please, what's your husband's name?" she asked.

I felt bile rise in my throat. I hated acknowledging him now, but I had no money to pay for my bills.

"Giacomo Russo," I answered.

The nurse tapped furiously on her keyboard and then looked up at me with a frown.

"I'm sorry, there's no record of you in our system. The person recorded under Giacomo Russo's account is Nadina Greco and their daughter, Angela Russo," the nurse informed me.

For a moment I forgot how to breathe as I stared at the nurse with my mouth hanging open.

"W…what?" I stuttered.

My husband had registered someone else under his account, leaving me out to dry. As if I had never existed inside that house. As if the years I spent in the Russo compound, cooking their Sunday dinners, pressing his shirts before sit-downs, waiting up past midnight while he conducted Family business, had simply never happened.

"How do you intend to pay for your bills, Miss?" the nurse asked impatiently.

I gulped softly. "Credit."

She glared at me and nodded. Immediately she left, I grabbed my phone ready to call Giacomo and yell at him, but I thought against it.

If he didn't see me as his wife, then I would end this sham of a marriage.

I limped out of the clinic despite the doctor and nurses protesting for me to rest and recover. I hailed a cab on the avenue outside Russo territory and went straight to a consigliere's office downtown, a man who handled civil matters for families outside the old law.

I sat down in the reception area, patiently waiting for the consigliere to call me in. The office was quiet, wood-paneled, the kind of place where men came to dissolve things legally that could never be dissolved any other way.

Thirty minutes later, the consigliere called for me. I entered his office and sat across from him, my eyes filled with determination.

"How may I help you?" the consigliere asked.

"I'd like to file for dissolution of my marriage and erase all ties with Giacomo Russo," I answered.

The consigliere nodded and started typing on his computer when he frowned.

"Are you Nadina Greco? You'd like to dissolve your union with Giacomo Russo?" he asked me.

I frowned. "No, I'm Liliana Russo. I've been married to Giacomo for four years."

The consigliere frowned. "According to the official records, that's incorrect. There's no record of a Liliana Russo married to Giacomo Russo. The only marriage record here is the one for Nadina Greco and Giacomo Russo, blood-bound two years ago."

I frowned, shaking my head. "That's impossible, Sir. We had a ceremony, witnesses, all of it."

I showed him the picture of the marriage certificate on my phone, but he just shook his head.

"That's a fake, Miss. See for yourself."

He pushed the computer toward me and my heart stopped.

Right before my eyes was the legal proof that Nadina and Giacomo had been blood-bound for two years, and Pietro had witnessed it.

And the date? It was the exact date my car had broken down in the middle of a storm. I had called Giacomo and Pietro begging them to come pick me up, but they didn't answer my calls and claimed they were in a sit-down.

That night I took a shortcut through a stretch of contested territory and was robbed and stabbed twelve times and almost bled out in an alley, except for a stranger who saved me.

I was nine months pregnant then. I lost my baby and had eighteen stitches.

So two years ago, when I almost died, my husband was binding himself to someone else, which made him too busy to save me.

My chest clenched so violently, I couldn't sit still.

I stood up, but the ground spun. My knees gave out. I hit the floor, sobbing, gasping for air.

"No… it can't be."

The consigliere rushed to my side.

"Miss, are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?"

His voice echoed like it was underwater.

I curled into myself, rocking back and forth. My nails digging into my arms. The pain was suffocating. The room smelled of old paper and polished wood and none of it was real, none of the four years had been real, and the floor was cold against my cheek the way the restroom floor had been cold, the way the pavement had been cold the night they threw me from the car.

"No, it can't be. No, it can't be. No, no, no—"

Liliana's POV

I don't know how long I cried on the floor of the consigliere's office, curled up like a ball, but when I finally stood up, I wiped my tears and sighed.

It couldn't get any worse than this. My marriage of four years to Giacomo Russo had been nothing but a farce.

I wanted to scream at him and ask why he would do such wickedness to me. Why tie me down for fifteen years?

Fifteen years ago, I moved into the Russo compound to take care of them after they lost their parents and their sister in a car bombing. I had been their closest friend and they asked me to live with them. For years I helped them heal. I woke Pietro up when he screamed from the nightmares of the explosion, the smell of burning metal still clinging to his skin.

When we became adults I fell in love with Giacomo and he said he loved me back. He married me shortly after, and like a fool I happily did whatever I could to keep making them happy.

Even when Nadina came into the picture a year after my marriage, I hadn't been bothered. Nadina had been my best friend in college. My childhood friend. She was my bridesmaid. She'd never harm me. But I was so wrong.

The three of them hurt me in a way that I couldn't even think about it fully without losing my breath.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Why didn't he just tell me he never loved me? Why go through all this hell just to ruin me?

"Miss, should I call someone for you? Hospital? Police? A friend?" The consigliere's voice broke through my thoughts.

I stared at him and smiled bitterly. "Thank you so much. I'll leave now."

I staggered out of the office watching as they all stared at me, pity evident in their eyes. The receptionist looked away. The armed man stationed by the door didn't.

I hailed a cab to head back to the compound. I had nowhere else to go and I needed to pack my things.

I had one goal now: get my passport. Cancel this identity. Erase "Liliana Russo" for good.

The house was quiet when I entered and I was grateful. However, after I grabbed my passport and started coming out, I heard voices in the sitting room.

Putting on a calm facade, I walked out and ignored them. Pietro and Giacomo were having dinner while Nadina was lying on Giacomo's legs. The table was set with Sunday silver. Wine poured. Candles lit.

They looked like a beautiful family. A perfect picture of a deceitful family.

I had barely taken three steps when Giacomo's voice rang out.

"Liliana!"

I didn't stop. However, I felt a painful grip on my arm. I turned to realize Pietro had grabbed me.

"Are you deaf? Can't you hear us calling?" Pietro snarled at me.

I ignored him and yanked my arm away from him. "I don't have time for whatever this is."

Pietro threw his head back and laughed coldly as he suddenly grabbed my bag.

"Kneel and apologize to Nadina for hurting her earlier and then maybe we'll let you leave," Pietro said.

I turned my sad eyes to Giacomo hoping that just maybe he might help me.

But instead, he agreed with Pietro.

"Yes, Liliana. The doctor said if we hadn't come in time Nadina would have bled and died. You almost killed her, so an apology is the least you can do."

I scoffed softly. "I almost killed her? She wanted me dead! I have been through hell for two days and no one asked me anything. Then—"

"It's fine, Giacomo. Let her be, Pietro, she doesn't have to apologize," Nadina interrupted me softly, acting like the victim once again. Her fingertips drifted to the hollow of her throat as she spoke, that delicate little gesture she wore like innocence.

Giacomo suddenly stood up, furious. "No, it's not okay, Nadina. She can't harm you and go scot-free. If you don't apologize this instant, I will punish you, Liliana!"

I shrugged. "I'm not apologizing for what I didn't do, Giacomo. Do your worst."

Giacomo dragged me roughly outside as he grabbed a bottle, smashed it against the stone courtyard.

Pietro shoved me forward.

They forced me to kneel on the shards.

Pain sliced through my skin. I gasped as glass embedded in my knees.

"Count to one hundred," Pietro snapped.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. They stood over me. Watching. The compound lights threw their shadows long across the ground, and somewhere behind them the house was warm and lit and I could smell the dinner still on the table.

Nadina smirked behind them.

By the time they reached a hundred, I was faint from blood loss.

Pietro tossed my bag at me.

"Fucking useless bitch."

"Next time you touch Nadina, I'll kill you myself," Giacomo added. His right fist clenched and unclenched at his side, as though the violence he'd already dealt still wasn't enough.

They walked away.

I staggered to the side wall, pulling glass from my knees, barely holding back screams.

I tore an old dress hanging outside and wrapped my knees. I refused to let this stop me. If anything it made me want to cancel my identity more. My thumb found the inside of my left wrist without thinking, pressing into the skin there, and the fresh pain in my knees joined the older pain that never fully left.

I hailed a cab and went to the immigration office. I was attended to immediately by a junior agent.

"Are you sure about this? Once we sign these documents, Liliana Russo doesn't exist again," the agent said.

I nodded. "That's what I want."

He asked for my passport and I handed it over as he scanned it when suddenly red lights flashed, sirens blared, and alarms echoed through the room.

"What's happening?" I asked.

Men in black surrounded me. Guns holstered. I was seized, dragged into a cold, sterile office.

"What are you doing? I didn't do anything!"

Officer Lombardi slammed the passport down. He tapped his badge once with his index finger, the gesture of a man who believed the institution made him untouchable.

"Fake document. Fraud. You're under arrest."

I was stunned as I stuttered. "No—Giacomo Russo gave me that passport! Call him. He'll explain—"

He picked up the phone, pulled up the registry system, then dialed.

Giacomo answered. "Russo residence."

"Mr. Russo, this is Officer Lombardi, Immigration and Customs. A woman named Liliana Russo—she claims you gave her this passport. Can you confirm that you know her?"

There was a pause.

Then Giacomo's voice—calm, composed, merciless.

"I don't know anyone by that name."

I screamed. "Giacomo! It's me! Please—"

The officer ignored me. "Just to confirm, sir. You deny giving her any documents? Please be certain because she will be arrested."

Without a moment of hesitation, Giacomo's voice sounded again.

"I don't know her. Do whatever you wish. I have to go take care of my wife and daughter." Then the line went dead with a click.

I watched in horror as I was handcuffed and led out of the office, but I couldn't cry or scream. All that kept resounding in my ears was Giacomo's last words.

I don't know her. Do whatever you wish. I have to go take care of my wife and daughter.

Liliana's POV

That night, I couldn't speak. I just sat there, staring at the stained walls of the holding cell, numb.

I'd been arrested for submitting a forged passport. And the one person who should have saved me? He threw me to the wolves.

"You got anyone to call?" the guard asked, locking the cell door behind him. The bolt echoed through the concrete corridor like a gunshot.

I nodded silently. My heart was hollow. My cheeks were crusted with dried tears. My throat raw from screaming and begging.

"One call. Don't waste it." He slid a phone through the bars.

I tapped in the number. It rang once.

"Hello? Who is this?" My mother's voice sounded over the receiver.

Relief flooded me.

"Hi, Mom. I need your help."

"Liliana? Why are you calling from a strange number? Where are you?" my mother asked worriedly.

"It's a long story. There was a mix-up. I've been arrested."

"What?!" she shouted. "Who dares lay a hand on you?! Do they know who you are?!"

Even through the static of the prison phone, I could hear it. Not just a mother's panic. The cold fury of Cosima Valentino, a woman who had held territory together while her husband's heart failed him, who had kept rival families from smelling blood in the water for fifteen years. When she said do they know who you are, it was not a question. It was a threat she expected me to relay.

"Please, just talk to Dad. I need out of here. And a new passport. In my name."

She paused.

"Alright, baby girl. Hang in there. You'll be out soon."

The line disconnected.

The guard gave me a suspicious look, then left. A while later, he returned with a bitter update.

"Nobody's available to process your release tonight. You stay till morning."

I didn't answer. I climbed onto the narrow spring bed, curling into myself. But every time I closed my eyes, I heard Giacomo's voice. Nadina's laugh. Pietro's silence. And their baby's cries.

They'd taken everything from me. In five days, I'd be gone. And when I left, they'd regret it.

Around midnight, I drifted off.

I woke to scraping metal.

My eyes opened just as the cell door creaked.

Seven women stepped in.

My heart stopped.

Before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.

"Nadina sends her warmest regards," one of them sneered.

And then the beating began.

Fists rained down. Kicks to my ribs. Fingers clawed at my skin. One bit my shoulder, another yanked my hair until I screamed. This was a contracted hit inside the walls. Paid for, arranged, delivered with the efficiency of someone who had done this before. There was nothing random about it. Seven women, midnight, an unlocked cell. Someone had greased the right palms.

I whimpered and tried to fight, but it was useless.

When they were done, I was barely breathing. My body throbbed. Blood soaked the floor. I heard faint shouting, guards rushing in, and then everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes, everything smelled like antiseptic.

The sharp beeping of machines echoed beside me. I was in a hospital. Pain lit up every nerve in my body.

"Don't sit up," a voice warned.

I turned slowly.

The same doctor. The one who'd warned me before.

"How do you feel?"

I tried to shrug. My shoulders screamed.

"Terrible," I rasped.

My voice was gone. My throat was shredded.

"You were in critical condition. You've been unconscious for three days."

"Good," I whispered. "Two more days to go."

He frowned.

"No, Liliana. This isn't good. I warned you. And now… I'm sorry, but you'll never be able to carry a child again."

I stared at the doctor without blinking, my heart already numb. My hands subconsciously touched my stomach and a small whimper escaped my lips.

"I'm so sorry, Liliana," the doctor said. "The bleeding was too much. It was the only way to save your life."

I was heartbroken and devastated but still the tears couldn't drop. I let out a sigh. They'd taken everything from me and left me with nothing. I'll do the same to them.

My thumb found the inside of my left wrist. I pressed into the scars there, the ones from the broken glass, still fresh beneath the bruises. The pain was the only thing that felt real. The only thing that was mine.

The doctor handed me my phone.

"It's been ringing nonstop for three days," he said. "Please take care of yourself."

I took my phone and saw several missed calls from my mom including messages and pictures.

Where are you, Liliana? What happened? Your father got you released but the guard said you had an accident. Please call me.

Liliana, your father has done what you asked and you've gotten a new passport. I sent a picture below and mailed the passport to you.

Liliana, I'm worried about you. Your flight has been booked. You leave in two days, call me!

I stared at the screen for a moment, then typed the only thing I could.

Thank you so much, Mommy. I'm fine, just tidying things up here. See you soon.

As I hit send, the door opened and Nadina walked inside with her baby in a stroller.

"Oh, Liliana, imagine my happiness when the doctor told me you're awake," Nadina gushed in a fake cheerful voice. She moved through the hospital room like she owned it, the same way she moved through every room. Two fingertips drifted to the hollow of her throat as she smiled.

I glared at her, my eyes blank. "What do you want?"

"I just brought you lunch. The boys were just messing with you by leaving you there. They didn't know you'd be hurt."

She set down a flask. Pulled out a steaming bowl.

I recoiled. Seafood. She knew I was allergic.

"Leave me alone," I said through clenched teeth. "Before I strangle you."

Her smile turned sharp.

"But I'm not done yet, love. You're not dead."

She leaned in and shoved the plate closer. The smell made my stomach twist.

I swatted it away, reacting on instinct.

The plate shattered as Nadina screamed, staring at her baby in horror.

I turned toward the baby's cries. My eyes fell on a tiny shard embedded in the infant's hand. My fingers froze as I saw the blood on the baby's hand.

And then the door burst open. Giacomo and Pietro staring down at me like I'd just committed murder.

"What's going on here?" Giacomo snapped.