"Crippled?" The word hung in the air. I stared at my father, my voice a raw whisper. "What did you say?"

"The doctors confirmed it." My father wouldn't meet my eyes. "Your spine was severely damaged in the fall. The nerves to your legs... they're severed. You'll be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life."

I shook my head frantically. "No, that's impossible. There has to be a cure, there has to be..."

"Liliana, accept it," my father said, standing up. "At least you're alive."

Alive? You call this living?

I slammed my fists against my thighs, but I felt nothing.

It was like hitting two logs of wood.

"No!" I shrieked hysterically. "It's not possible!"

A nurse rushed in and gave me a sedative.

As my consciousness faded, I saw my father's disappointed face.

He looked at me like I was damaged goods. Worthless.

Three days later, Angelo came.

He stood in the doorway of my hospital room holding a bouquet of white roses, his handsome face a mask of complicated emotions.

"Liliana," he said softly.

I turned my head away. I didn't want to look at him.

"I heard what happened." He walked to my bedside and set down the flowers. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" I laughed coldly. "What are you sorry for? For not saving me? Or for the fact that your fiancée almost murdered me?"

Angelo's face darkened. "It was an accident," Angelo said, his voice tight. "Gia was terrified. She's still in shock."

"An accident?" I finally turned to look at him, speaking each word slowly. "Do you really believe it was an accident?"

"Liliana, don't overthink this," he frowned. "Why would Gia want to hurt you? You're her sister."

I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and my heart died completely.

He really believed her.

He really thought Gia was innocent.

"You're right," I said, closing my eyes. "It was just an accident."

"Liliana..." Angelo's voice cracked. "If you need anything, anything at all, I can—"

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said, get out!" I opened my eyes and stared at him coldly. "Your fiancée is waiting for you. You shouldn't be wasting your time here."

Angelo stood in silence for a few seconds, then turned and left.

Before he left, I heard him whisper to my nurse in the hallway, "Take good care of her."

I watched him go, silent tears streaming down my face.

An hour later, Riccardo arrived.

He swept into the room with a huge bouquet of red roses, a look of heart-wrenching devotion on his face for the reporters that had flooded in behind him.

"My angel," he knelt by my bed, stroking my cheek. "You've suffered so much."

The camera flashes were blinding.

"Mr. Moretti, are you really going to marry a disabled woman?" a reporter shouted.

"Of course," Riccardo said, looking at me with deep affection, his voice loud and clear. "Liliana is the love of my life. No matter what happens to her, I will love her, marry her, and take care of her for the rest of our lives."

The next day, the headlines all screamed about the devoted mafia boss who refused to abandon his crippled fiancée.

But when we were finally alone in the room, his face went cold.

He leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper meant only for me. "Now you can't run, can you, Liliana? It's perfect. My butterfly, with broken wings. Trapped under glass. Mine. Forever."

I looked at the crazy, possessive gleam in his eyes and felt a chill go through my bones.

Two weeks later, I was in the hospital garden in my wheelchair.

As the nurse was pushing me back to my room, I heard familiar voices coming from the end of the hall, near another VIP suite.

It was Angelo and Gia.

I motioned for the nurse to stop around the corner.

"You better start explaining!" Angelo's voice was frigid. "The fire alarm that day, the broken elevator... was that you?"

"I..." Gia's voice was choked with sobs. "Angelo, I just love you so much! I was jealous of her! My whole life, everyone has always loved Liliana more! She had everything, and I just... I wanted to teach her a lesson, make her less than perfect, so you would only have eyes for me! I never thought she'd actually be crippled..."

"So you tried to kill her?" Angelo’s voice was filled with a terrifying, suppressed rage.

"I didn't! It was an accident!" Gia shrieked.

I gripped the arms of my wheelchair, my knuckles white.

I held my breath, waiting for Angelo's verdict. He was going to get justice for me.

But what I heard next sent me into an icy abyss.

"Enough," Angelo's voice was terrifyingly calm. "From now on, this is the story: it was an accident. Liliana fell, and you were the hero who tried to save her. But this will not happen a second time. "

"Angelo..." Gia’s voice was laced with surprised relief.

"Shut up and listen," Angelo’s tone was a flat, deadly threat. "Our engagement won’t be off. But if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, including Liliana, not only will I make your life a living hell, I will make sure the entire Falcone family pays for your stupidity."

I heard footsteps. Angelo was leaving.

"Do you... still love her?" Gia asked, her voice desperate.

Angelo paused for a long, suffocating moment.

"A cripple," he answered, his voice devoid of all emotion, "and a woman about to be Mrs. Moretti... is of no use to me."

I quickly signaled the nurse to push me away.

Back in my room, I sat in my wheelchair, feeling a deep, soul-crushing cold.

He knew the truth.

But he chose to bury it.

He used my family to threaten Gia, to keep the scandal from tainting the Marino name.

And his last words... they crushed every last bit of hope I had.

A cripple. Of no use to him.

In his eyes, I was already a lost cause.

A month later, my wedding day arrived.

The ceremony was set for St. Mary's Cathedral.

That morning, I sat in my wheelchair, looking at my gaunt reflection.

I had lost twenty pounds in a month.

My cheeks were hollow, my eyes empty. I was a living corpse.

I couldn't just give in.

I couldn't beat Riccardo. I couldn't fight fate. But I could choose to stop being Liliana Falcone.

I had to die. To them, at least.

The wedding was my only chance to escape.

I sent away my bridesmaids and servants, saying I wanted a moment alone before Riccardo came to get me. I told everyone to wait at the church.

The Falcone estate was empty.

I sat alone in my bedroom, surrounded by memories and the roots of all my pain.

I took out my brightest, blood-red lipstick. Wheeling myself to the vanity, I faced the huge mirror. And I wrote my final words.

Riccardo, you win. But all you've won is an empty shell.

Gia, your jealousy destroyed me. One day, it will devour you, too.

Father, you got your alliance, but you lost your daughter forever.

Finally, my hand trembled as I wrote the name that hurt the most.

Angelo.

A tear fell, smearing the red lipstick on the glass.

I loved you. You broke me. You chose his lies over my truth. You left me to suffer. I hope you're happy.

I finished and took a box of matches from the nightstand.

I needed a fire. A fire big enough to burn "Liliana Falcone" to ashes, to convince everyone I was dead.

I looked out the window, waiting for the signal.

Dr. Valerio, my mother’s most trusted family doctor, was going to help me.

He would get me out and leave an unidentifiable body in my place—a "stand-in."

I heard a faint bird call from downstairs. Three long notes, two short.

The signal.

I took one last look at my gilded cage, turned my wheelchair, and headed for the back door without a second thought.

Minutes later, flames erupted from the second floor of the Falcone estate, black smoke billowing into the sky, consuming everything.

---

Angelo's POV

At that exact moment, Angelo was sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse office.

It was Liliana and Riccardo’s wedding day.

He crushed the glass in his fist.

He didn't feel the shards digging into his palm, didn't feel the blood dripping through his fingers.

Every cruel word he’d said in that hospital was a lie. A lie to protect Liliana.

He had figured it out long ago: Riccardo was able to crash the proposal that day because Gia had been working with him from the inside.

This venomous woman, driven by jealousy for her half-sister, wanted to destroy everything Liliana had.

The only thing he could do was to keep this viper chained to his side, where she could no longer harm Liliana.

He knew Liliana.

If she learned the truth, she would throw herself into a reckless quest for revenge, and in her crippled state, she would be no match for Gia.

Besides, for Gia to be this brazen, she must have backup. Someone else was pulling the strings.

The truth… he would uncover it, one step at a time.

The only way was to push Liliana away, to make her think he'd abandoned her so she'd be safe. He would handle the rest.

He even said that she was "of no use to me," knowing she might be listening.

He needed her to give up on him completely. To get married and stay out of the storm he was about to create.

He never imagined his protection would be the thing that killed her.

Suddenly, his office door flew open.

His second-in-command rushed in, his face pale with panic.

"Boss! Something's happened!"

"What is it?" Angelo's voice was raw.

"The Falcone estate... it's on fire!"

Angelo shot to his feet.

His man's voice trembled. "The fire started in her bedroom... They say... the whole wing is engulfed. No one could have survived."

Angelo's mind went blank.

He had forced her to marry Riccardo. He had personally pushed her off a cliff.

She would rather die in a fire on her wedding day than marry that man.

In that instant, all his logic, all his pride, all his doubt, burned away.

All that was left was a suffocating wave of regret and terror.

He didn't think. He shoved everything aside and sprinted for the door.

"Sir!" his driver shouted after him. "It's too dangerous!"

Angelo didn't hear him.

He snatched the keys, threw himself into the driver's seat, and slammed the pedal to the floor.

He raced toward the plume of black smoke on the horizon.

He was a man driving into the heart of his own personal hell.