Serafina's POV

When I opened my eyes, the faint smell of antiseptic and dried herbs filled my nose. I was lying on a cot in the family doctor's quarters, and the old man smiled warmly at me.

"Good thing you were brought here in time," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

I tried to respond, but my throat felt raw, and no words came. The pain I'd felt before was gone, but a deep exhaustion lingered.

"You should never touch anything with nightshade berries again. It's poison to you, child," the doctor scolded lightly, patting my cold hand. "Elisa brought you here, begging me to save you. You're meant to be the lady of this house someday. You must take better care of yourself."

His words were kind, but they stung. Lady of the house. A title I once believed in, a dream I had cherished for so long. Now it felt hollow.

The doctor handed me a small vial. "This will help. Take it three times a day for the next two days, and you'll recover."

I managed a small nod, grateful for his care. I spent the day resting, the quiet allowing me to gather my thoughts. But my fragile peace shattered when the door creaked open and Dante walked in.

His face, once a source of comfort, now brought a pang of pain. He looked weary.

He knelt beside my bed, taking my hand in his. "Serafina, thank God you're okay. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Camilla, she's been so sick, and she needed me with her."

The words stabbed at my heart, reopening wounds I thought couldn't hurt any more. I wanted to scream, to tell him how close I'd come to dying while he sat at her bedside. But the words wouldn't come.

Dante caressed my cheek, his touch achingly familiar. For a moment I let myself believe it was just for me. But deep down, I knew it wasn't.

"I'll come back soon," he promised, standing. "But I need to check on Camilla. Don Waverly's daughter is under my protection, and I won't have anyone saying I neglected her. You understand, don't you? Don't be jealous. This is just my duty."

He kissed my forehead softly, the way he used to, and then he was gone. Gone to her.

He never came back after.

I heard from Elisa, one of the few people inside Ricci walls I trusted, that Dante had left with Camilla to settle a dispute with another Family. The news crushed me. Once, I was the one he leaned on, the one he trusted at his side. Now Camilla had taken my place.

As I sat in the quiet of my room, my gaze fell on the wooden box where I kept the 498 letters Dante had written me. Each one had been a promise, a vow that when it reached 500, he'd ask for my hand.

But it had been six months since the last letter.

My hands trembled as I touched the box, the weight of the memories too heavy to bear. Finally I closed it and stood. I couldn't stay in this room full of broken promises.

I made my way to the front of the estate, hoping the air and the children of the soldiers I tutored would soothe my aching heart. But I stopped in my tracks when I saw him.

Dante stood there, laughing with Camilla. He was helping her carry a basket of fresh apples, his smile brighter than I'd seen in months.

Once, the sight of them together would have set jealousy burning through me. Now I just felt empty.

Camilla noticed me first, her sweet smile widening as if she hadn't stolen everything from me. "Serafina. Would you like some apples? Massimo had a crate sent up. Dante said you love them."

Dante turned, smiling at me as though nothing had changed. "Serafina loves apple pie," he said.

I shook my head, keeping my voice level. "No. I don't like it."

His smile faltered. "What? You do. We both love it."

"No," I repeated, firm. "You do. I don't."

Camilla's face twisted into a mock expression of hurt, her hand fluttering to her stomach. "Did I do something wrong, Serafina? I only wanted to share."

Her voice grated on my nerves, but I forced a polite smile. I saw through the act, the way she played the victim so effortlessly. Every time I refused her, Dante treated me like I'd wronged his precious Camilla.

"Serafina," Dante snapped, his voice sharp. "Camilla's only being kind. Can't you make an effort? She's done nothing but try, and you're being unreasonably rude."

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. Once I would have argued. But I was tired. So tired of always being the one to apologize, of always being dismissed.

"Thank you for the apples, Camilla," I said, forcing gratitude into my voice as I took three from the basket. "I'll be heading to the children now."

I turned to leave, but Dante grabbed my arm.

Serafina's POV

"You're being cruel, Serafina," Dante said, his tone laced with displeasure.

"For what?" I asked, while Camilla stood behind him with that mocking smile of hers.

"To Camilla. I've told you before, don't be cruel to her. You're always jealous, and honestly, I'm tired of it. You don't understand, do you?" His grip on my arm tightened, enough to make me wince. "Why is this so hard for you?"

"I'm not jealous, Dante," I replied evenly, though everything inside me wanted to lash out. "I understand. Don't worry about it." The words tasted bitter, but I swallowed them, forcing myself calm. I wanted to tell him it didn't matter anymore, that I was leaving, that I was getting married. But why bother? He wouldn't care.

He released my arm, his hand moving to my cheek, a gesture that once made my heart race and now felt empty. "Trust me, Serafina. I won't hurt you. Stop thinking these things about Camilla and me."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Trust him. Won't hurt me. Those were the very things he'd broken over and over these past six months. If I had died from those poisoned berries, I was certain he wouldn't have shed a single tear.

When I reached the room where I taught the children, they ran to me with bright faces, easing the ache in my chest for a moment. God, how I'd always dreamed of having my own. Dante used to promise me we'd have them one day. But those promises were as empty as his touch now.

I'd miss these children. Leaving them hurt more than I thought it would.

Later I checked my phone. Another message from my parents asking about wedding details, what flowers I wanted, the cut of my dress, whether I preferred a delicate veil or a wreath.

Since I was a girl, I'd loved wedding preparations. I'd even arranged Gianna's wedding, Dante's sister, five years ago when she married into the Donati Family. Now she had two beautiful sons and a husband who adored her. And me? Ten years of loving Dante had given me nothing but heartbreak. If I'd let my parents choose for me back then, I might have had children by now, a husband who cherished me. Instead I was here, humiliated and betrayed by the man I thought I'd spend forever with.

At the market on Ricci turf, I bought gifts for the children and for Elisa, one of the few friends I had left. Two soldiers carried the packages back to the estate when they saw me struggling, their silent kindness a balm to my bruised heart.

Dante spotted the gifts the moment I returned, his eyes narrowing. "What are those for? Who are they for? And this." He held up a letter a messenger had handed him. "What's this wedding the man mentioned?"

I took the letter, recognizing my mother's handwriting. "I think it's time we talked, Dante," I started, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "About the marriage—"

Before I could finish, one of the soldiers rushed in.

"Boss, Camilla's not in her room. We can't find her anywhere on the grounds."

Dante's expression shifted instantly, filling with worry. Without another word he turned and left, chasing after Camilla as if she were the only thing in the world. He didn't even say goodbye.

I brought the gifts to the children and to Elisa, forcing a smile as I handed them over.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Elisa asked softly, lowering her voice and glancing toward the door before she spoke, the way she always did when something mattered.

"I have no reason to stay, Elisa," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "He's chosen someone else. I need to move on."

"What about the children? They love you, Serafina. And I, I'll have no one to help me with them," she whispered, her eyes pleading.

"I'm getting married, Elisa," I explained, though the words felt foreign in my mouth. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Who?" she asked, a flicker of hope in her tone. "Is he better than Dante?"

I paused, unsure how to answer. "I hope so, Elisa. I really do."

Serafina's POV

I had already packed my things into a single travel bag. It wasn't much, just what I needed. I left behind every dress and piece of jewelry Dante had given me. I didn't want any reminders of him. Not his gifts, not his scent, and certainly not his false promises.

I was leaving in five days. Five days to say my goodbyes, especially to the children.

I glanced at the letters once more, the ones he'd written before everything between us fell apart. They used to mean something. Now they were just lies on paper. Promises are made to be broken, after all. Dante had proved that.

One by one, I tore the letters to shreds. The sound of the paper ripping was satisfying, like I was finally freeing myself from their weight. I was down to the last few when his voice, sharp and panicked, cut through the air.

"What are you doing, Serafina?"

I turned to see him storming in, his eyes darting from the torn pieces in my hands to the ones in the trash. He grabbed the letter I was holding and snatched the scraps from the garbage, his face twisted in disbelief.

"Why? Why did you tear them up?" His voice cracked as he stared at the torn letters like they were his most prized possession. "Are you doing this because of Camilla? Do they mean nothing to you? I wrote these for us. For our memories, Serafina."

His hands shook as he tried to piece them together. I almost pitied him. Almost.

"Serafina, answer me." His voice rose as he grabbed my arms, forcing me to look at him. "Why can't you understand? It's your jealousy that's ruining everything between us."

I met his eyes, calm and unwavering. "You're wrong, Dante. I'm not jealous," I said evenly. "The letters were damaged. Silverfish got to them. They were full of holes and falling apart. There was nothing left to save."

It was the truth, at least partly. Some of the letters were ruined, and I didn't care to salvage the rest.

His gaze shifted to the torn pieces, his anger giving way to reluctant understanding. "Why didn't you let me handle it?" he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "I could've saved them. Tearing them was extreme. It's like you're tearing apart what we have."

"Some things can't be saved, Dante," I said softly, forcing a small smile. "Sometimes you just have to let go and move on."

He sighed, looking down at the shredded paper with regret. "I can write new ones," he murmured. "I'm sorry if I overreacted. We were going to read those at our wedding."

Wedding. The word tasted bitter on my tongue.

I didn't respond, and he noticed my silence. He cupped my face, his touch warm. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "I'm sorry I haven't been around. But you know Camilla needs my protection. A rival crew nearly snatched her off the street. I won't let it happen again. You're the only one I love, Serafina. The only one I want to marry. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded. What else could I do? It's what he wanted to hear.

He kissed me lightly, his lips brushing mine before pulling back. "Tell me, Serafina," he murmured. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

I looked away, pulling out of his hold. "Well. I'd like a celebration. Here. For the Family," I said, keeping my voice light.

"A celebration?" He tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You love parties, the dancing. When do you want it?"

He didn't know the truth, that I only pretended to love those things because he did. I wanted to fit into his world, to please him. And still it was never enough. My heart clenched at the realization.

"Tomorrow night," I said, forcing a smile. "And I want you to dance with me."

His smile faltered for a breath, but he nodded. "If that's what you want, I'll be there. We'll dance, and make it a night to remember."

I hope so, I thought bitterly.

He kissed my forehead, lingering. "Before I forget, I won't be staying tonight," he said, his voice hesitant. He couldn't even look at me. "There's something urgent in the city I have to handle. But I promise I'll be back in time for the celebration."

I knew better. The household talked, and I'd already heard he was taking Camilla with him. They were going to the city together.

I forced a pleasant tone. "Take care, Dante," I said, hiding my disappointment. "And don't forget tomorrow night."