Bianca stumbled back to the compound and packed her things like a marionette, every movement hollow and mechanical.

All she wanted was to leave this place that had given her both boundless joy and unbearable pain, and never come back.

But the moment she reached the front door, two soldiers seized her arms and forced her into the back of a black sedan.

Bianca fought with everything she had.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!"

She was no match for them. They dragged her through the hospital's service entrance and threw her to the ground in a private corridor that smelled of bleach and money.

Every bone in her body screamed on impact. She forced herself to lift her head, and there stood Dante, his face dark as a storm. The signet ring on his thumb was perfectly still.

He stared down at her, his voice cutting through the sterile air.

"Satisfied now?"

"How did I end up with a wife this vicious? You'll stop at nothing to get rid of Viviana. Aren't you afraid of what's coming for you?"

Bianca frowned, unable to understand what he was talking about.

Dante caught the confusion in her eyes and scoffed.

"Don't tell me you didn't know Viviana has a clotting disorder."

"You heartless woman. You deliberately scratched her wrist underwater. She's still bleeding and they can't stop it."

"You're a lawyer, Bianca. Don't you know that killing someone means paying with your life?"

Bianca rushed to defend herself.

"How could I have scratched her? Have you forgotten? I can't even—"

Dante cut her off before she could finish, impatience carved into every line of his face.

"Viviana got hurt because of you. You're going to take responsibility."

"Take her in. Draw her blood. However much Viviana lost, that's how much comes out of her."

A deafening buzz filled Bianca's skull. She never imagined Dante could be this unhinged.

Her chest caved inward, as though something had clamped down on her lungs and refused to let go.

The soldiers closed in. Bianca thrashed against their grip.

"Dante, this is illegal!"

"You can't do this to me!"

Dante walked over and crouched in front of her. His fingers seized her chin, tilting her face up. His eyes were pure malice. This close, he didn't look like a husband. He looked like a man deciding whether to let someone live.

"Now you want to talk to me about the law?"

"Why didn't you think about consequences when you were hurting Viviana?"

"Take her in."

They dragged her into the operating room. She fought every inch of the way, and none of it mattered.

The needle slid into her vein, cold as ice, and the pain tore through her as though it had pierced her heart.

She felt her blood leaving her body. And with it, the last trace of love she had ever held for Dante Vitale.

She told herself to endure it. He wouldn't actually let her die. He was the Don. Even he answered to something, even if it was only the inconvenience of a dead wife and the questions that followed.

But the minutes crawled by, and no order came from outside to stop.

Bianca felt herself being hollowed out. Her body grew so weak she couldn't even keep her eyes open. Somewhere beyond the door, she could hear the low murmur of men who obeyed without asking, and the silence of a hospital wing that had been cleared for a man who owned the building.

A bitter ache rose in her chest.

Was she really going to die here today?

She wasn't ready. She had been so close to starting over.

Meanwhile, in the hospital corridor, a doctor stood before Dante, sweat dripping from his forehead. Two soldiers flanked the hallway behind them, arms folded, watching nothing and everything.

"Don Vitale, your wife has already had 1500cc drawn. She's at her absolute limit. If we continue, something will go very wrong."

Dante barely glanced at him.

"How's Viviana?"

The doctor hesitated, stammering.

"Miss Caruso, her wound is quite deep. She's still in emergency treatment."

Under Dante's withering stare, the doctor wiped his brow and forced the words out, his voice shaking.

"But rest assured, Miss Caruso is no longer in critical danger."

Only then did the edge in Dante's gaze soften, just barely. His thumb moved once against the signet ring, then stopped again.

The doctor ventured carefully.

"Then... your wife..."

Dante considered this for a moment, his tone flat.

"Keep going. Draw the full 2000cc."

"If I don't teach her a lesson this time, there's no telling what she'll do to Viviana next."

The doctor opened his mouth to protest, but under the weight of Dante's stare, the words died in his throat. In this city, this hospital ran because the Vitale Family allowed it to run. The man swallowed and walked back toward the operating room.

Bianca woke in a hospital bed.

She was so weak she couldn't sit up.

She reached for her phone to call her mother and knocked over the glass of water on the nightstand.

A familiar hand appeared, offering her a cup of warm water.

Bianca forced her eyes open. Dante's face filled her vision, inches away. He looked rested. He looked like a man who had slept well while she bled.

He propped her up and brought the cup to her lips.

"I know you're still upset, but you went too far yesterday."

"If I didn't teach you a lesson, how would I face Viviana?"

"Come on, don't be angry. I'll take you to visit your parents in a couple of days. That should make up for it, right?"

Bianca listened to his magnanimous tone and, for the first time, felt a wave of pure disgust at herself.

How pathetically small had she made herself, that Dante Vitale believed a visit to her parents was a grand enough favor to offer? Grand enough to cancel out having 2000cc of blood ripped from her body.

When she didn't respond, Dante took her silence for surrender. He smiled and ruffled her hair.

"I knew my Bianca would be a good girl."

"The person you should really be thanking is Viviana. She knew perfectly well you scratched her on purpose, and she still chose not to press charges."

"So to show your gratitude, don't you think you should hand over all your professional contacts and resources at the firm to her?"

Bianca was so furious she almost laughed. No wonder he'd shown up to "take care of her" today. He'd come to collect her professional resources for his precious childhood sweetheart. She sat rigid on the hospital bed, not moving a muscle, forcing down the emotions threatening to erupt from her chest. After a long silence, she lifted her gaze to meet Dante's eyes and spoke, each word deliberate: "My resources. I'd sooner burn every contact I have than hand them to her."

Dante hadn't expected such defiance. His expression darkened instantly. "Bianca, I suggest you think this through. You've already walked away from the firm. Those contacts are useless to you now."

"You hurt Viviana. Compensating her with them is the least you can do. Don't be so petty."

A sharp pain lanced through Bianca's chest, and for a moment the world narrowed to nothing but that ache. Viviana had spread lies and framed her, costing her everything she'd built at the counsel table. These two had shattered her grandmother's keepsake. Last night, they'd nearly killed her on the operating table. And now Dante was telling her she needed to hand over her professional network to Viviana on a silver platter, to atone for crimes she never committed.

What a joke.

Bianca's lips twisted into a cold, humorless smile. "Why should I compensate her?" "Give me one reason."

The words had barely left her mouth when Viviana burst into the room, tears streaming down her face. She grabbed Dante's sleeve, her eyes brimming with wounded innocence. "Dante, please don't upset Bianca because of me. I know she hates me. Of course she'd refuse to share her resources."

"Bianca, this is my fault. I shouldn't have come between you two. Hit me, yell at me, I can take it. Just please don't be angry with Dante. He works so hard running this Family all by himself."

"I'll go. I'll leave and never bother you again..." She made a show of struggling toward the door. But for someone so desperate to leave, her eyes kept darting back to Dante, and her feet hadn't moved an inch.

Bianca watched the performance with cold detachment. Not a ripple of emotion stirred inside her.

Dante, however, pulled Viviana into his arms, his voice aching with tenderness. "Viviana, you've done nothing wrong. Why would you leave?"

"She's the one being difficult. Don't worry. I'll get those resources for you today."

He turned to Bianca, his face like a storm cloud, and his voice cut through the room: "Since you insist on being unreasonable, I see no reason to spare your dignity."

"Bianca, don't forget. The final draft of your federal defense thesis is still in my hands. If you won't cooperate, I'll have no choice but to release it for everyone to 'study.'"

Bianca's eyes went dark. Her voice rose. "You wouldn't dare."

Her fingers curled inward, nails biting into her palms. Something tightened around her heart like a wire, and a suffocating pressure flooded her chest.

That thesis was the culmination of years of work with her advisor. It was their shared achievement. Defense strategies, case precedents, sealed-filing techniques that half the counsel in Astoria would kill to get their hands on.

She'd never guarded herself against Dante. She never imagined he'd turn it into a weapon.

Whatever warmth remained in Bianca's heart went cold.

She'd misjudged him. She could accept that now.

When she looked up again, her eyes were empty. Completely, utterly empty.

"Fine. I'll hand the resources over to Viviana. But I want to watch you delete every copy of that thesis with my own eyes. And you'll sign an agreement guaranteeing you'll never leak it."

Dante shrugged, unbothered. His signet ring sat motionless against his thumb.

"Sure. No problem."

"I'm not that low."

He studied Bianca's composed expression, and a flicker of unease stirred in his gut for no reason he could name.

She wouldn't leave the Family over this, would she?

The thought lasted barely a second before he dismissed it entirely.

She loved him too much. She'd never leave.

He'd just have to smooth things over afterward. That would fix things.

With that settled in his mind, his gaze toward Bianca softened a fraction.

"Come on, Bianca. Don't sulk. From now on, just stay home and be a good wife."

"Once you've recovered, we'll start trying for an heir. It's what my mother's always wanted."

"Oh, and since you're going to be keeping the house, I'm bringing my mother here from the old compound. She was thrilled when she heard you'd agreed to have children. Make sure you treat her well."

Bianca thought of Dante's mother, Carmela Vitale, and a wave of revulsion washed through her.

Carmela had always adored Viviana. The moment she learned Dante had married Bianca instead, she'd treated her like a homewrecker who'd stolen her son from his true match. A bloodline interloper, not a proper Vitale bride.

The woman's tongue was vicious, and her real goal had always been to break Bianca down.

Washing her feet. Waking at five in the morning to cook for her. Being forbidden from eating at the same table. Every ritual dressed up as tradition, every cruelty wrapped in the language of respect for the matriarch.

In the early months of the marriage, Bianca had swallowed more humiliation than she could count.

Thankfully, Dante had sent his mother back to the family compound before long. Otherwise, Bianca wasn't sure how much longer she could have endured it.

Dante noticed her silence and frowned with displeasure.

"My mother has some old-fashioned ideas, sure. But she's still your mother-in-law. Grin and bear it."

"She arrives tomorrow at three. Make sure you're at the station to receive her."

Bianca laughed to herself. A bitter, silent laugh.

Funny how she'd never noticed what a devoted son Dante was.

He opened his mouth to say more, but his phone rang. Luca Conti's number.

She couldn't make out the other end of the conversation, only catching fragments: "pulling out"... "leaving the country."

Dante barked a few quick instructions to Viviana and rushed out of the hospital room. His soldiers fell into step behind him before the door swung shut.

The second he was gone, Viviana dropped the act.

She swept a triumphant look over Bianca, her voice dripping with contempt. Her fingertips drifted to her pearl earring and adjusted it, a small, satisfied motion.

"Bianca, oh Bianca. A wife reduced to this. How do you even show your face?"

"If I were you, I'd have had the sense to leave a long time ago."

Bianca glanced at her, her tone flat and unbothered.

"And I never imagined a mistress could be this shameless about it."

Viviana's face twisted with rage. She fixed Bianca with a vicious glare.

"Don't get cocky. Carmela arrives tomorrow, and she happens to adore me. Once she's here, your life will be a hundred times worse than it is now."

"Look forward to it."

With that parting shot, Viviana swayed out of the room on her heels.

Bianca watched her go and let out a quiet, scornful breath. Carmela Vitale was a force of nature. Viviana, did you really think you'd fare any better under that woman's roof?

But none of that was Bianca's problem anymore. She looked away, picked up her phone, and called her mother, asking her to send someone to the hospital.

She didn't dare tell her parents about the night before. She said only that she'd fainted from a fever.

Matteo and Elena were skeptical, but Bianca held firm, and in the end they didn't press further.

Early the next morning, Bianca squared the edges of the documents on the bedside table until every line was exact, sent everything she'd prepared to her attorney, blocked Dante's number, and boarded a plane without looking back.