The flames ate my painting.

Three months of work, three years of proof, turned to ash.

I stood there, watching the orange fire lick the canvas, consuming the image of us holding each other. My heart ached with a dull pain, but I didn't cry.

I knew this was how it would be. This was always Vittorio’s choice.

"Aurelia..." Vittorio said, pausing as he carried Carina past me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," my voice was so calm it surprised me. "Carina's ankle is more important."

He stared at me, clearly not expecting me to be so quiet.

"By the way, since Carina's back from Europe, she should stay here for a while," I said, turning to face them. "I'll put her in the guest room next to yours. I'll move downstairs."

In Vittorio's arms, Carina lifted her head. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes before it was replaced by gratitude. "Aurelia, you're so kind... I won't stay long. I'll move out as soon as I find a place."

Vittorio stared at me, his expression complicated. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

I turned and walked downstairs. I heard Carina's hushed voice behind me. "Vittorio, I don't think Aurelia is happy..."

"She'll understand," Vittorio's voice sounded tired.

An hour later, I was packing in the small downstairs room when the door opened. Vittorio stood in the doorway, his face a grim mask.

"Enough with the act, Aurelia," he finally said. "If you're jealous, just say it. Stop torturing yourself with this martyr routine."

I kept folding my clothes, not stopping.

"I know you hate sleeping alone," his voice softened, laced with a flicker of guilt. "You don't have to do this. We're still married, Aurelia. This is still your room."

My hands paused.

It was true. For three years, Vittorio had given me the respect a wife deserved. He'd climb into my bed after a drunken night and wake me with kisses full of what felt like love. In those moments, I thought we could last forever.

But the second Carina appeared, I was always second choice.

"I'm sorry about the painting," Vittorio said, stepping closer, reaching to hug me. "I was in a hurry. I wasn't thinking about your feelings."

I sidestepped his embrace.

"I'm not jealous, Vittorio," I said softly. "I just think I need a break. Especially after getting shot. It's time to hand off some of my duties."

Vittorio's face went cold.

"Suit yourself." He turned to leave, then remembered something. "By the way, what were those documents you had me sign this afternoon?"

A small smile touched my lips.

"Just a small gift. For our third anniversary."

Vittorio’s expression softened. He came over and stroked my cheek.

"Bella," he murmured. "I know her being here is hard on you. But you are my wife. A good wife. I won't let you down."

His voice was gentle, but I heard what he really meant.

Carina was temporary. Once he settled his debt to her, he would make it up to me.

Too bad I didn't want any of it anymore.

"I understand," I nodded.

Vittorio let out a breath of relief, kissed my forehead, and left the room.

It was midnight when I was violently dragged out of bed.

Vittorio’s face was a storm cloud, his anger simmering with murder.

"Get upstairs. Now."

He dragged me up the stairs and threw open the door to his bedroom.

On the bed, Carina was flushed, breathing heavily. Her hair was stuck to her sweaty skin, her eyes were hazy, and her body was trembling uncontrollably.

When she saw us, she curled into a ball like a frightened deer.

"Vittorio... I feel so strange... so hot..." her voice was a breathy whisper, laced with a desperate, animal need.

Vittorio turned to me, his eyes blazing. "What did you give her to drink?"

"I didn't give her anything," I answered calmly. "She's the one who wanted to open that bottle of Romanée-Conti. I drank some too. Why am I fine?"

"Because this is your specialty, isn't it?" Vittorio snarled, grabbing my shoulders. "Dirty little tricks. It's how you ended up in my bed in the first place!"

Those words were a knife, straight to my heart.

I remembered that night three years ago. I got intel that someone was going to make a move on Vittorio at a private casino. I couldn't reach my men. I couldn't reach him. No one knew the panic I felt as I raced there, only to find him drugged with an aphrodisiac.

In his desperation, I gave myself to him. I cried when he entered me. I don't know if it was because my dream had come true, or because I was terrified of what would come next.

I never imagined he'd wake up and look at me with so much hate.

Just like now. He always believed I was the one who set it all up. That he was the victim.

"Vittorio, please don't blame her..." Carina said weakly, but her body writhed, a soft moan escaping her lips. She suddenly grabbed a lighter from the nightstand, her hand shaking as she flicked it on.

"I can't take this feeling..." she sobbed, holding the flickering flame to her own skin. "I won't be a burden... I won't let you sacrifice your honor for me..."

The smell of burning skin filled the room. Carina screamed in pain, but her eyes held a twisted look of relief.

"Carina!" Vittorio lunged, snatching the lighter away. He stared at the red, angry mark on her arm, and his face hardened with decision.

"I'll help you."

"She did this to you," Vittorio said, his voice dangerously low. "As her husband, it's my debt to pay."

His words hit me like lightning.

He was really going to "help" Carina?

I couldn't believe it. The man I loved, the man I called my husband, was saying something so degrading, so humiliating.

My voice trembled. "So you think I drugged her... just to watch you fuck her?"

"Enough!" Vittorio roared. "Don't use that filthy language!"

On the bed, Carina reached out a trembling hand and touched Vittorio's chest. His body tensed at her touch.

"Vittorio... please don't... I can't let you betray your family," Carina's voice was weak but seductive. "You should go... I can get through this alone..."

Her fingers trailed down his chest. Vittorio's breathing grew ragged.

"No. I'm not leaving you," Vittorio said, grabbing her hand, his eyes full of pity. "This is her fault. She should face the consequences."

Carina pretended to push him away, but her body instinctively moved closer.

"Aurelia... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to take Vittorio from you... but I feel so awful..."

While she apologized, she guided Vittorio's hand to her own hot skin.

Something in my head snapped. I couldn't believe they were doing this, in my home, shaming me so openly.

"Enough, Carina Romano!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Stop the act! You destroy my home, you seduce my husband, and now you stage this whole show to get him into your bed! How disgusting can you be?"

The second the words left my mouth, Vittorio exploded.

Crack.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room. My left cheek burned, and I could taste blood.

"How dare you say that about Carina!" Vittorio grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "She's kind. She never says a bad word about you! But you, you've been nothing but hostile!"

"So all that understanding you showed today was an act!" His eyes were full of disappointment and disgust.

Carina sobbed on the bed. "Vittorio, don't blame Aurelia... It's my fault... I shouldn't have come back..."

Vittorio turned and gently stroked her face. "No. You're not the one who's wrong."

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand drawer and looked at me, his eyes cold.

"You love these little drug games so much," he hissed. "Fine. You can listen to me help Carina with her 'problem.'"

He dragged me downstairs and cuffed my wrist to the iron gate of the wine cellar. Cold metal bit into my skin. The pain was a brutal, clarifying shock.

"Vittorio, you can't do this to me!" I struggled, but the cuffs only tightened.

"Listen," he said, his voice trembling with a rage he couldn't control. "You brought this on yourself, Aurelia. Now you get to hear the consequences of your 'masterpiece.'"

He turned and went back upstairs without a second glance. The door slammed shut.

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face.

Soon, I heard Carina's muffled moans from upstairs. I tried to block it out, but I couldn't even cover my ears.

"Vittorio... please, be gentle..."

"I know. Just hold on."

Then came the rhythmic creak of the headboard, and her moans growing louder, bolder.

"Ah... Vittorio... right there... harder..."

Every sound was a knife in my heart.

I curled up on the cold floor, the world spinning. The old gunshot wound began to ache, and a vicious cramp seized my abdomen. But my heart hurt the most, like it was being ripped to shreds.

The sounds from upstairs went on all night. Vittorio's heavy breathing, Carina's breathless cries, their shouts as they came.

I shivered on the floor, my clothes soaked with cold sweat.

A vicious cramp seized my abdomen. Then I felt it. A slow, warm trickle of blood down my thigh. A weak sob escaped my lips, but it was drowned out by the noise from above.

By dawn, everything was quiet.

I had no more tears left. I was just curled up in a pool of my own blood, like a dying animal.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Vittorio opened the cellar door. He started to say something mocking, but his face froze when he saw me.

"Aurelia?!" His voice was filled with a panic I'd never heard before. He rushed over, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the cuffs. "Jesus Christ, you're bleeding so much..."

I lifted my head and used all my strength to look at him.

"Let go of me..."

I collapsed. The fever made everything blurry. He scooped me up, his hands touching my cold, wet clothes. He roared, "I'm taking you to the hospital!"

Just then, Carina's voice drifted down from the bedroom, thick with lazy satisfaction. "Vittorio... you were too rough. I don't think I can walk..."

"Besides," she added, her voice full of fake concern, "if you take Aurelia to the family hospital, everyone will know about us. It'll be bad for the family's reputation."

Vittorio's arms tightened around me, then went still. I could feel him fighting with himself. He looked at my pale face, his eyes filled with pain and guilt.

But in the end, he turned to the guard at the door, his voice a low growl. "Get a street doc. The back-alley clinic. Now."

In the end, he chose to hide his affair with Carina over saving my life.

The bleeding seemed to stop. I couldn't hold on any longer. I sank into darkness.

A few hours later, I woke up in a small, dingy clinic. It wasn't one of ours.

The doctor was a middle-aged woman with a grim face.

"You were pregnant," she said, her face grim. "About three months along. Between the blood loss and the trauma... you lost it."

Tears rolled silently down my cheeks. Did it hurt? I felt numb.

"We need to do a D&C as soon as possible, or it could affect your ability to have children in the future."

I closed my eyes. "Do it."

Better to get it over with. Since I couldn't keep the child, it was time to end everything.

As the cold surgical instrument entered my body, the last of my love for Vittorio seemed to drain away.

All I wanted now was to escape this hell.

After the surgery, I lay in the hospital bed, took out my encrypted phone, and sent a new message to Orion with a trembling hand.

[A month is too long. I need you in three days. Get me out.]

My phone lit up instantly.

Orion's reply was immediate: [Done. Three days. I'll be there.]

I finally let out a breath. At least someone was willing to get me out of this hell.

I stayed in the clinic for three days. In those three days, Vittorio never called. Not once. He finally showed up on the day I was discharged.

"Sorry I'm late," Vittorio said, pushing the door open, his face tired. "Carina's been emotional. She needed me."

I looked at him, feeling nothing but irony. Three days ago, he was having sex with another woman in front of me. Now he was acting like nothing happened.

"Aurelia, about that night..." Vittorio came closer, reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you."

I pulled my hand away.

"It's fine," my voice was as still as dead water. "It's over."

Vittorio frowned. "I know you're still angry, but you have to believe me. It's you I care about. Carina is just..."

"Just what?" I stared at him coldly. "The one you were willing to 'detox' with your own body?"

Vittorio's face changed. "That was different. I had no choice..."

"Enough," I said, standing up and grabbing my bag. "Let's go."

Vittorio wanted to say more, but the doctor came in.

"Mr. Falcone, about your wife's procedure, there are a few things you need to..."

"Doctor," I cut her off. "I'll take the medicine I need to. Don't worry about it."

The doctor looked from me to Vittorio, then said nothing more.

Back at the villa, Vittorio took a family call in the driveway. I walked inside alone. The first thing I saw was Carina, sitting on the living room sofa, a glass of red wine in her hand.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Carina drawled, looking up from her wine glass, a smirk playing on her lips. "Finished with your little pity party?"

I stared at her and said nothing.

"Vittorio was so worried you were gone for three days," Carina said, getting up and walking gracefully toward me. "But he was more worried about whether I was traumatized by that night."

She stopped in front of me, her voice suddenly cold and sinister. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You want to know a secret, Aurelia? I was the one who drugged Vittorio that night."

My body went rigid.

"I even sent you that message on purpose, telling you he was in danger at the casino," Carina smiled like a demon. "I wanted you to go to him. I wanted you to give yourself to him when he was at his weakest."

"Why?" My voice trembled.

"Because I knew he could never love you," she purred, her eyes glinting with pure venom. "I wanted him shackled to a woman who would always be second best. A constant reminder of the guilt he felt for letting me go."

The room started to spin.

"Now I'm back, Aurelia," Carina caressed my cheek. "It's time for you to leave. Don't make me say it again."

Rage boiled in my chest like lava. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and threw it in her face.

I got in her face, my voice a low snarl. "Listen to me, Carina Romano. As long as I am the woman with his ring and his name, you will be nothing more than the whore he fucks in the shadows."

Carina froze for a second, then laughed. She looked toward the front door, then immediately dropped to her knees, sobbing into her hands.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come back!" She cried, tears streaming down her face. "Aurelia, I really didn't mean to ruin your marriage!"

I turned. Vittorio was standing in the doorway. His face was dark.

"Aurelia!" Vittorio rushed past me, pushing me aside to help Carina up. "Are you crazy?"

I stumbled back and hit the wall. The wound on my back throbbed with a fresh wave of pain.

"Carina, are you okay?" Vittorio gently wiped the whiskey from her face.

"I'm fine..." Carina sobbed. "Aurelia's right. I shouldn't have come back and disturbed your lives."

"Nonsense," Vittorio said, holding her. "You're not the one who's wrong."

He turned to me, his eyes full of fire.

"Apologize to Carina. Now."

"Why should I apologize?" I sneered. "Did I say something that wasn't true?"

"Aurelia, that's enough!" Vittorio stood up, towering over me. "Carina already forgave you for drugging her. What more tricks are you trying to pull?"

Tears streamed down my face.

"So in your mind, I'm that evil?" My voice choked. "All these years we've been together, isn't that enough for you to trust me?"

Vittorio's expression was pained. He clenched his fists. He seemed to be struggling with himself.

But in the end, his voice was cold. "I only trust what I see and what I feel."

I was completely hopeless.

I wiped my tears, lifted my chin, and smiled with pride.

"Then I'm sorry, Vittorio. I refuse to apologize," I said, each word deliberate. "Because you two are the ones who are wrong. Not me."

Vittorio's face twisted with rage. The last traces of guilt were gone.

"Fine," he said, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. "Marco, bring a few men over."

Soon, several men in black suits walked in.

"Family law," Vittorio said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Thirteen lashes."

Carina pretended to plead for me. "Vittorio, let it go, don't hurt Aurelia..."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Thirteen lashes. The Falcone family's signature punishment. Reserved for traitors and rats.

He was really going to do this to me.

I straightened my back and met his gaze, my head held high.

"Vittorio. You lay one hand on me, and you will spend the rest of your life regretting it."