I wouldn't choose him.

I dialed the shylock's number.

"Yes. I want the money."

"My house as collateral."

"I don't care what the vig is. I need it today."

The moment the debt cleared, I went straight to the hospital.

I didn't just cover the three hundred thousand.

I paid for every treatment to follow, switched him to the finest medications, hired a private nurse, booked the best single room the ward had.

When they wheeled my father into the room, my mother sat beside the bed, looking like she could finally breathe.

Watching them, worn out and uneasy, I felt a sharp ache in my chest.

If I hadn't married into the Vitale blood.

All of this, I could have done with ease.

It was love that had stripped me down to nothing, one step at a time.

The door flew open with a kick.

Lorenzo stormed in, eyes bloodshot, Adriana Bellini trailing behind him like a shadow that knew exactly where the knife was.

He took in the private room, then the receipt on the table, and his face darkened in an instant.

"Francesca! Adriana told me you were here throwing tribute around, buying up a VIP room, and I didn't believe her."

"I never thought you'd actually have the nerve."

He crossed the room in a few strides, his voice frighteningly cold.

"Where did this money come from?"

My mother shot to her feet in fright, the hem of her sleeve already twisting between her fingers.

"Lorenzo, please, don't be angry."

"We won't stay here. We'll move back to a regular room right away."

"It's our fault for being a burden on Francesca. Please, don't let us come between the two of you."

My father braced himself against the bed, straightening the collar of his gown with trembling fingers, trying to sit up.

"Francesca, I won't take the treatment."

"Don't tear your life apart for my sake."

My eyes burned at their words, and I stepped right in front of them.

"Get out."

Lorenzo's expression shifted.

"Francesca, who do you think you're talking to?"

I stared him down.

"I told you to get out. Don't disturb my parents' rest."

Adriana tugged gently at Lorenzo's sleeve, her fingers drifting to the bracelet at her wrist, turning it once.

"Francesca, you suddenly come up with this kind of money. Of course Lorenzo's going to wonder."

"You're still carrying his blood. Don't do anything to betray the Family."

My father shook with rage and climbed straight off the bed.

"You apologize to her!"

"My daughter is decent and honest. You've no right to drag her name through the mud!"

Adriana instantly shrank into Lorenzo's arms, eyes red, and cried out:

"Lorenzo, he's going to hit me!"

Lorenzo's face changed in a flash, and he shoved my father aside.

"Who said you could touch her!"

My father slammed hard into the nightstand, the corner of his forehead splitting open at once, blood streaming down his face.

He collapsed to the floor, lips white, without even the strength to cry out in pain.

My mother screamed and threw herself toward him.

"Matteo!"

My mind went blank with a roar, and I rushed out shouting:

"Doctor! Somebody, help!"

Lorenzo froze where he stood, staring at his own hands, the fury on his face finally giving way to panic.

"I didn't mean to. I just didn't want him hurting Adriana."

I stood up and slapped him hard across the face.

"And Adriana spreading filthy lies about me, that's fine?"

Lorenzo's head snapped to the side from the blow, and Adriana rushed to steady him, all tenderness.

"Lorenzo, don't blame Francesca. She's just too worked up right now."

Lorenzo looked at me, eyes red.

"Francesca, I'll ask you one last time. Where did the money come from?"

I went very still. My thumb found the thin gold band on my finger, and I turned it once, slow, before I let out a cold laugh and held the phone up to his face.

The shylock's ledger was right there, clear as day.

"See it?"

"A debt. My house against the vig."

"High interest. Cleared today."

Lorenzo's pupils contracted sharply.

“Are you insane?”

“Who gave you leave to put our home up against a shylock's ledger?”

Adriana frowned right along with him, her fingers drifting to the bracelet at her wrist, turning it slow.

“Francesca, how could you be so unreasonable?”

“Lorenzo lavishes tribute on you, and here you are, bleeding him dry for cash.”

“How is that any different from every gold-digger who ever crawled to a made man's door?”

I looked at her and smiled.

“Shut your mouth.”

Her face went white.

I turned to Lorenzo.

“I told you long ago I wanted the union dissolved.”

“Sell the house. All I'll take back is the one million I put down on it.”

“Weren't you the one so afraid I was after your money?”

“Dissolve this union now, and I'll see to it the debt never touches your name.”

Lorenzo stared at me, hard.

“There will be no dissolution.”

“Whatever you borrowed, I'll settle it. Every dollar.”

My smile turned colder.

“You settle it, and I'll borrow more.”

“Once the house is mortgaged to the last brick, I'll borrow on the strength of being a Vitale wife.”

“Tell me, Lorenzo. If I truly turned into a deadbeat with a shylock's mark on my back, would you and the whole Family go down into the gutter with me?”

Lorenzo finally froze, as if he were seeing me for the first time.

“Francesca, you're insane.”

“I can get a lot more insane.”

Right there in front of him, I dialed the Donna.

“I want the union with Lorenzo dissolved. I won't take a cent beyond the down payment on my house.”

“Within ten minutes, I want one million in my account, and I want his signature on the papers.”

“Otherwise, I go to the worst shylock in the district right now, and I borrow in the name of a Vitale wife.”

“Every minute you're late, another million. As long as Lorenzo and I are husband and wife, even for one minute, that debt lands on the honor of your blood. I'll drag the Vitales, I'll drag Lorenzo, I'll drag every last one of you straight down to hell with me.”

The Donna's voice came back at once, sharp as a wire.

“Francesca, are you insane?”

I said calmly,

“The clock starts now.”

Ten minutes later, Donna Vitale walked into the hospital with the Family's consiglieri and two enforcers a half-step behind her.

A soldier took Lorenzo by the shoulder and forced him down before the papers.

Lorenzo wrenched against the grip and looked at me, eyes bloodshot.

“Francesca, do you really have to do this?!”

“Do you really have to bring it to this between us, over money?!”

All I said was, “Sign.”

The light in his eyes died, bit by bit. He stared at me in despair, his voice going hoarse.

“I can pay the debt back. I can pay for your father's treatment too.”

“Stop this, please?”

“We can't dissolve it.”

“We have a child.”

I looked coldly at the Donna. She lifted her reading glasses from her face, folded them once along the hinge with slow, deliberate fingers, and gave the enforcers the smallest nod.

A soldier pressed the pen into his hand. The consigliere flipped the pages to the line waiting for his name.

He gripped the pen so hard the veins stood out on the back of his hand. Somewhere down the corridor, a monitor beeped and beeped, and no one in the room moved.

“Francesca.”

“Say something.”

“Say you were wrong, say you won't borrow the money. Tell them to stop.”

I stood right where I was, not even a flicker in my eyes.

Lorenzo's eyes were terrifyingly red.

Held down under the soldier's grip on his shoulder, his fingers trembled so badly he could barely hold the pen.

When the tip touched down, it gouged deep lines into the paper, but he signed his name all the same.