When it was time for the new instructress to address the families gathered under the Moretti banner,

Bianca stepped forward, the microphone in her hand, her gaze sharp and piercing as it landed on me like the tip of a blade.

"Today," she said with a smile that widened a half-second too late to be real, "my words are about self-respect and self-love. And now, I'd like to share a short film the benefactor's Family has prepared."

The moment her words fell, my scream tore through the courtyard.

On the three-story LED screen, the one the Don himself had gifted the girls' academy as a show of Moretti generosity, the film began to play.

It was that film. The one that should never have seen the light of day.

My naked body lay on a mottled bed, writhing under the lash of three long whips.

Welts and bite marks littered my skin.

Blood seeped into the once-pristine white sheets, turning them a sickening shade of red.

The pain surged again, not from my body, but from my soul, as if a thousand insects crawled beneath my skin, gnawing away.

Before I could even react, a harsh slap struck my cheek.

A mother beside me pointed at my face, shrieking, "How dare a woman like you set foot in a girls' school? You shameless whore. It's revolting."

Another hand yanked my hair, dragging me from my seat and throwing me to the floor.

Voices thundered above me, raining down curses like stones.

"Your father gave up the standing he bled for, the respect the old men owed him, all of it, because of this filth. Your mother died holding his ashes. And you? You still have the audacity to live? You should have been buried with them."

"You slut. A disgrace to the whole territory. You deserved every second of that torture."

I curled up, numb, as fists and feet landed again and again.

Compared to the night the film was made, this was nothing.

Then Bianca stumbled forward, her voice trembling with false concern.

"Adriana, I... I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. Someone must have switched the film."

She reached to shield me from the blows, muttering apology after apology, one hand pressed flat against her stomach as though the tenderness were real.

But in her tear-glossed eyes, pride sparkled like glass shards.

She wasn't sorry.

She was victorious.

As the daughter of the Thornbury Family, allied to the Moretti throne by blood and old debts, no one would question her. No one would dare.

A commotion behind me.

Salvatore came through the crowd, panic written across his face as he pulled me into his arms.

"Adriana. Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to wait at the estate? It's over now, I'm here."

His performance was flawless.

If I hadn't heard everything with my own ears,

I might have believed him again.

Might have melted into that familiar, deceiving embrace.

But the humiliation at that school shattered me all over again.

My mind broke. I screamed at the sight of any man who came near. I thrashed, cried, cowered from terrors no one else could see.

Salvatore held me tightly, tears streaking his face, his voice raw with heartbreak.

But even his sorrow felt like a lie.

Eventually they sedated me and carried me out to the ambulance.

When I opened my eyes, everything was dark. The bitter smell of antiseptic stung my nose.

I realized I was still in the hospital, my wrists and ankles bound tight to the bed. Beyond the door of the ward, muffled voices drifted in.

Salvatore's voice.

"Bianca. Are you satisfied now that Adriana's like this?"

Another voice, low and sweet. Bianca.

"Of course. Marco kept her on a string for eight years. I had to be sure there was nothing left between them. If I hadn't done this, who knows what might have happened."

She sighed.

"It's hard on you too, having to keep a woman like her under your roof. It sickens me every time I think of it. But because of our Families, because of the alliance, we can't be together in this life. In the next, I'll repay you, whatever it takes. Even if I come back as your horse, your ox."

Through the glass door, fogged with condensation, I watched them laugh and lean into each other.

Through the gap in the ward door I saw Salvatore pulling Bianca into his arms.

His hoarse voice trembled with the bitterness of unrequited love.

"No... Bianca, you don't owe me anything. I did all this willingly. Now that you're carrying my child... that's the greatest blessing I could ever ask for. Besides, Adriana's always been kind to me... you don't need to feel guilty."

Outside the ward, the man and woman embraced, kissing with abandon.

His voice, thick with sobs, revealed everything. He truly loved her.

They were going to have a child. The pain tore through me like an old wound ripping open all over again.

Tears spilled silently down my cheeks.

So, I was nothing more than the extra. The unnecessary one. From beginning to end. A bride bound into the Moretti name to fill a seat that was never meant for me.

I tried to shut out their voices, to silence the intimate sounds coming through the door.

But they wrapped around me like a curse, refusing to let go. I buried my face in the quilt, biting it until my gums bled. I didn't know how long I lay there like that.

Until the door creaked open, and the soft scent of powder drifted in over the sharp hospital cold.

Before I could react, a pair of slender hands gripped my chin.

"Don't be scared, Adriana," came the voice. "It's me. Bianca..."

Hearing her name made me flinch and thrash against the leather restraints that held me to the bed.

She let out a soft laugh and calmly began working the buckles loose.

"Adriana, the proud daughter of the Falcone name, the one every man in the Cosa Nostra wanted, reduced to this. What a joke. The men of the Moretti Family... either of them would choose me over you in a heartbeat. Especially Salvatore. He gave up everything for me..."

Her voice turned cold, laced with pride.

"He's such an honorable man, isn't he? But for my sake, he forced his own capo to his death, just to buy me a place and see our union blessed by the Family. What kind of love do you think that is?"

I stared at her, stunned.

"After your father died, you begged Salvatore to look after you. Your pathetic mother probably thought he was your bloodline's savior. So pitiful. But it was Salvatore who scattered your father's ashes with his own hands."

Her words struck me like lightning.

I had always believed my father took his own life, a broken old capo stripped of his territory and his respect until there was nothing left.

But no. Salvatore, the man my father mentored, the one he treated like a son, the one he taught the ways of the Family, had driven him to his death. And then desecrated what remained of him. There was no sin the code punished more surely than that.

Fury exploded in me. I shot up and wrapped my hands around Bianca's throat.

But before I could squeeze, the door slammed open.

Seeing Salvatore, Bianca immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing. One hand pressed flat against her stomach.

"Salvatore! I only wanted to help Adriana. I felt sorry for her, so I loosened her restraints... but she said I stole everything from her and tried to strangle me!"

I opened my mouth to explain.

But the slap came before I could utter a word.

"Adriana!" Salvatore's eyes blazed. The temperature in the room seemed to drop with them. "People are trying to help you and this is how you repay them? Why blame Bianca for everything? You've completely lost your mind!"

He didn't give me a chance to speak.

He just left me there, trembling on the cold floor, while he wrapped his arms around her the way a made man shields what is his.

As the door shut, Bianca looked back at me with a slow, mocking smile, that smile widening just a half-second too late.

She had every reason to laugh.

I was a failure. A discarded thing. A bride with no protection left, no standing, no name the street would still respect.

But what they didn't know. Even a cornered rabbit bites.

After they left, I forced myself to stand. My mother's thin gold band turned once, twice around my finger, and this time my hands weren't shaking.

I discharged myself from the ward before the Don's men could think to stop me.

And once I got home, I followed the instructions from my aunt Vivian's letter, every word of it, exactly as she'd laid it out.

With everything in place, I left. Without looking back.

When I stepped outside, I ran into Enzo.

"Adriana," he called out, both hands still gripping the doorframe as if he needed something to hold. "The Don said he lost his head over what happened at the hospital today. He told me to ask you not to hold it against him… He'll come to the house later to make it right."

I smiled faintly at him.

"Tell the Don it's all right. And remind him to come home early tonight… I have a surprise waiting for him."

Then I turned and walked away, ignoring the confusion that flashed across Enzo's face.

As I passed the girls' academy, I saw Salvatore up on the stage, holding Bianca by the waist as if she were the most precious treasure in the world. The crowd around me buzzed with talk, the way a room hums before a sit-down.

"Did you hear? Don Moretti and that new teacher, Bianca, just endowed a 'Self-Love' scholarship. Meant to reward girls who know how to respect themselves."

"Isn't that rich? After what happened with his wife… the poor man must be shattered."

"Of course he is. Who wouldn't be, tied to a woman like that?"

I looked up at the banner strung above the stage: the Moretti Scholarship, the Family name laundered clean in gold letters.

How touching. I hope this so-called 'devotion' survives the night.

Later, as the event wound down, Enzo crossed the floor to Salvatore and relayed my message.

"She said it's all right," Enzo told him. "And to come home early. She has a surprise for you."

Hearing that, Salvatore let out a slow breath, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He ran his thumb along the rim of his glass, unhurried.

He was certain of his hold on me. After all, I had nowhere else to go. He believed that even if he crossed the line, I wouldn't dare walk away from the Family that owned me.

Still… he admitted to himself he'd been too harsh. I was his wife.

Tonight, he decided, he would make it up to me.

After a night wrapped in Bianca's arms, he reluctantly began to dress, gently peeling away her clinging hands.

"Be good, Bianca. I'll see you tomorrow—"

Before he could finish, the bell rang. Loud and frantic, cutting through the night like a blade.

Salvatore frowned and moved toward the front door, scowl already set. The moment he opened it, Enzo shoved through, face bloodless, chest heaving.

Enzo threw a glance back to make sure Bianca hadn't followed, then held his breath for a beat before he spoke.

"Boss… something happened…"

Salvatore's expression shifted at once.

"The ones who came for Adriana before… they came back. Broke into the house… worked her over… then set it burning. She's gone."

Enzo's voice cracked as he forced the words out. "The neighbors said the men were shouting that Bianca sent them… And it gets worse, Boss. Adriana… she was carrying. Two lives, Salvatore. Two."