I always knew the Marchetti matriarch didn't like me.

She believed I wasn't good enough for Salvatore, that I could never compare to Vittoria—her son's childhood love from the Bellini branch, beautiful, sweet-tongued, effortlessly charming.

It was only when Vittoria married into a bloodline overseas and I became pregnant that Carmela reluctantly acknowledged me as her son's sworn wife—for the sake of the child, for the sake of the line.

Even so, every time we met beneath the estate's high ceilings, she never spared me from her sharp-tongued ridicule.

In the past, Salvatore would at least defend me a little. And it was the Don himself who had insisted on dragging me out the day of the accident, saying he wanted to buy gifts for the heir soon to be born to the Family.

But now, his eyes were locked onto Vittoria, filled with an undeniable tenderness.

Vittoria cradled Matteo in her arms and playfully clung to Salvatore's sleeve.

"Salvatore, did you hear? The Matriarch has officially named me her comare, her godchild! Dear brother, have you a gift ready for your little sister?"

Salvatore pinched her cheek, indulgent, half scolding and half spoiling. "You're incorrigible. Don't call me brother."

Yet even as he spoke, he had a soldier carry in ninety-two mink coats—each from the finest houses, every one paired with jewels laundered clean of any history.

"I know you love fine things, but you're still recovering. You need to stay warm. Winter runs three months—ninety-two days exactly—so you'll have a different one for each."

Vittoria giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, the picture of a pampered, innocent girl.

"Some of these aren't even released yet—all limited pieces! And you had them brought to me early. Salvatore, you truly spoil me."

Then she turned her gaze to me, feigning concern, her fingers drifting to the hollow of her throat. "But you've given me so much... Adriana won't be angry, will she?"

Standing there in my bloodstained clothes, I looked like a complete fool beside her dazzling, extravagant display.

For a brief moment, Salvatore hesitated, as if suddenly remembering I still stood in the room. He tried, awkwardly, to explain. "Adriana, it isn't what you think. Vittoria has lived away from the Family so long—you know how different their ways are out there."

"And the coats... I only heard she'd recently given birth herself. Her husband isn't here, and since we came up together, I only thought—"

Before he could finish, Matteo began to cry.

Vittoria gasped. "Oh, is Matteo hungry again? Mommy will take you upstairs to feed you."

Then she turned to me with a falsely apologetic smile.

"Adriana, don't misunderstand. I'm simply used to soothing my own baby. And every time I say it, see how happy Matteo becomes."

She cradled Matteo and started toward the stairs—only to sag suddenly against Salvatore's chest, murmuring, "Sal, I feel a little dizzy..."

Salvatore shoved me aside at once and caught her in his arms, his face full of worry.

"How can this be? You're weak after the birth. I told you to rest at the center. Come, I'll carry you up."

My right leg was still bandaged from the accident.

With that sudden push I lost my balance and collapsed to the floor, pain shooting through me like a knife. But Salvatore didn't spare me a single glance.

Right there before everyone, he scooped Vittoria into his arms—holding both her and Matteo—and carried her toward the stairs.

The room erupted in ridicule. The made men and their wives who filled the Don's parlor let their voices drop into that low, poisonous murmur that carries further than a shout.

"No wonder the Don dotes on Vittoria. Beautiful, and kind enough to nurse another woman's child. Not like this useless one—so cheap, so embarrassing. Can't even bear a little pain in her leg, and took medicine while nursing besides. Selfish."

"Does she even deserve to be a mother? If you ask me, Vittoria is more the boy's true mother—she cares for him more, and see how the child even favors her. He'd rather not resemble that disgraceful creature. Vittoria and the Don, such a perfect match. A shame they were never bound."

Instead of standing up for me, the Matriarch looked at me with even deeper disgust. She scoffed, and the rosary in her fingers snapped shut with a sharp click as she turned on me.

"Still lying there like a dog? If you want to beg for food, get out and do it somewhere else! This bloodline doesn't feed worthless, lowly women like you!"

"You don't even care about your own son, and you can't keep your husband's heart. I heard you'll never be able to carry another child? My son binding himself to you is the worst misfortune of his life. Get lost. Just looking at you takes ten years off my life."

Carmela's rosary snapped shut in her fist, that small final sound telling the whole room the matter was closed. Humiliation washed over me like a tidal wave.

I clenched my fingers around my phone, where I had long since prepared the severing of the blood pact.

Without a word, I struggled to my feet, limping toward the study upstairs, past the soldiers who lowered their eyes and pretended not to see the Don's wife dragging one ruined leg across the marble.

I retrieved the printed severance agreement and slid it into my bag before heading to the guest room to look for Salvatore.

But he wasn't there.

Instead, I saw the nanny holding Matteo, who had just finished feeding and was sleeping soundly.

Frowning in confusion, I suddenly heard noises coming from our bedroom. Sounds that made my stomach turn.

The door wasn't fully closed.

Through the gap, I saw Vittoria straddling Salvatore, her blouse wide open as she cooed in a sickly sweet voice. "Sal, I have too much milk... Matteo's appetite is too small, and I'm so full it hurts~"

"I feel awful... Won't you help me relieve it?"

Salvatore hesitated. "Vittoria, don't... You gave birth two days ago. Your body can't handle it. You already risked everything, hiding the pregnancy from your husband to carry my child. I can't put you in danger again..."

Vittoria grabbed his head and pressed him against her chest. Her fingertips brushed the hollow of her throat, and her voice quivered exactly on cue. "Silly Sal, I'm not afraid, so what are you afraid of? I wanted to give you a child. My husband is always away on the Family's errands; he doesn't even know. Come on, spoil me a little. Don't you want to taste the sweetness of a love that's bled for you?"

Salvatore finally lost control. He leaned in, his lips sealing over her skin.

The sounds inside grew more obscene, making my stomach churn with nausea.

I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and fled the house.

Only when I inhaled the crisp air of the estate grounds did the suffocating weight in my chest lessen. But the tears wouldn't stop falling.

Salvatore, you knew I was just downstairs. How could you do this? In our bedroom?!

I slumped onto the stone steps, dazed, not knowing how much time had passed. Beyond the wrought-iron gate, an enforcer stood with his back to me, a silent shape against the dark, saying nothing, seeing everything.

Then, without warning, a foul-smelling liquid was dumped over my head.

I gasped in shock as the stench filled my nose.

Vittoria stood before me, her lips curled into a smug smirk.

"Adriana, how does my son's piss taste? Did you enjoy watching Salvatore lose himself in me?"

So this was intentional. She had wanted me to see everything.

"Tsk tsk, just look at you now. Your son is dead, and you're hobbling around on one leg. If I were you, I'd have ended it already. What's the point of living?"

She bent down, whispering cruelly into my ear. "Even though you were bound to Salvatore before the Family and gave him a child, so what? He still smothered your son for me and my baby, and made sure the Marchetti line would never come from your body again."

My breath hitched.

Vittoria held up her phone, tilting the screen toward me. Her answer came a half-second too fast, that hair-thin eagerness slipping through the mask. "I even recorded it for you. Want to see how your baby's little face turned from red to purple? It's quite a sight."

My entire body trembled violently.

I stared at the screen as my child... my baby... struggled for breath.

And then, slowly, he stopped moving.

I felt like I was suffocating too.

How could she speak of murdering an infant so casually, as if the killing of a bloodline heir were nothing at all?

Fury erupted within me.

I raised my hand high, ready to strike her. But before I could, Vittoria suddenly pulled a knife and slashed it across her own chest.

Bright red blood soaked through her blouse.

She shrieked in agony, the knife clattering to the marble.

In the next second, a force slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

Salvatore cradled Vittoria protectively in his arms.

His furious voice rang out, searing through the air. "Adriana, are you insane?!"

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could speak, Vittoria burst into pitiful sobs, her hand at her throat, her whole body shaking against him. "Sal, I was only afraid Matteo would go hungry, so I came to explain things to Adriana. But she said I was trying to steal her child... She swore she'd cut the breast off me so I could never feed him again."

She trembled, burying herself deeper in his embrace. "I was only thinking about the baby! How could she do this to me?!"

Salvatore’s face darkened as he glared at me. "You were the one who fell down the stairs and broke your leg. That’s why things turned out this way. Why are you taking it out on Vittoria?"

"You’re not a good mother. You took medication and couldn’t nurse your own child. Vittoria was kind enough to help, so what right do you have to lash out at her? Just because you don’t care about your child, does that mean no one else is allowed to?"

I’m not a good mother? I don’t care about my child?

Tears streamed down my face as I roared at him in fury, "I’m not a good mother?! Then what about you?! Do you dare to tell me why I fell down the stairs? Where is my child? And what exactly was in that medication I took?!"

Salvatore’s brow drew together. "Matteo is sleeping soundly in the nursery, of course. And the medication was only for the pain in your leg. You knew that already."

"As for why you fell, that was your own carelessness. With so many soldiers in that house, why were you the only one who got pushed? You’re useless, and yet you have the nerve to lay a hand on Vittoria? You’re a mother too. How could you be so cruel to another mother? Apologize to her. Now."

Yes. So many men in that house. And yet I was the only one pushed.

I looked at him. So certain of himself, so at ease inside his own lies, his thumb turning that heavy signet ring slow and lazy around his finger the way it always did when nothing in the world could touch him. And suddenly, I laughed.

That was my husband. The Don I had been bound to before the Family.

A liar.

A murderer.

I picked up the knife from the ground.

With every scrap of strength left in me, I dragged the blade across my chest, again and again, cutting deep until the front of my dress went dark and soaked through with blood.

Salvatore’s eyes widened in horror. "Adriana! What are you doing?! Stop it!"

I dropped the knife and met his gaze, calm as still water. "You’re right, Salvatore. I shouldn’t have hurt a mother. So I’m atoning for my sins. To your beloved. Is this enough sincerity for you?"

With that, I turned and walked away.

Blood dripped from the wounds, leaving a trail behind me down the marble.

My steps were unsteady, but I never looked back.

Salvatore hesitated. For half a breath his hand lifted toward me on instinct. But Vittoria wound herself around his neck, her fingers grazing the hollow of her throat, her voice thin and pitiful and right on cue.

"Sal, it hurts so much... Can you take me to a doctor? We can’t let Matteo go hungry."

Salvatore wavered a moment.

Then he made his choice. He gathered Vittoria into his arms and walked the other way.

A few hours later, my phone rang.

Salvatore’s voice was gentle, almost coaxing. "Adriana, have you tended to your wounds? Don’t worry. I made sure the medicine Vittoria used won’t affect her nursing. I’m sorry for what I said earlier."

"But the doctor confirmed the medication you took wasn’t suitable for a nursing mother. Vittoria has plenty of milk, and formula isn’t as good for him. Matteo still needs her. I’m only looking after her to show my gratitude. Don’t read too much into it, all right?"

I answered without feeling. "I’m fine. Take good care of her. Make sure the child doesn’t go hungry."

"I always knew my wife understood me best." Salvatore chuckled low. "I already spoke with my mother. She won’t come at you anymore."

"You gave a son to this bloodline. That’s no small thing. The day after tomorrow, I’m holding a feast in your honor at the estate. Consider it my way of making it right. Be good and wait for me."

That night, every mouthpiece the Family owned ran the same segment.

"In a stirring show of devotion, the honorable Don Marchetti summoned the finest physicians in the country by private helicopter, all for the sake of a wife’s minor wound."

In silence, I took out the disinfectant and the hemostatic powder and tended to myself with the barest, most necessary care.

The next day, Salvatore still didn’t come home.

I gathered up everything I owned and gave it all away. Then I took our union pact, the one sanctified before the Family, the one I had once held so close to my heart, and tore it into pieces, and dropped them in the trash.

On the third day, just past noon, Salvatore’s message came in.

[Adriana, I’ve finished my business. I’m going to the hotel to check on the arrangements. One of my men will come for you this afternoon.]

But in that same moment, he was walking through a high-end arcade with Vittoria’s hand in his and Matteo cradled against his chest, moving from one luxury jeweler to the next.

All around them, envious eyes trailed their every step.

"The Don truly adores his wife and child. My commissions for the next twenty years are as good as made. What a picture that little family makes."

"But I heard the Don booked the cheapest banquet room at the hotel today. Supposedly to celebrate the birth of his son."

"You must be mistaken. A man who spoils his wife like that, would he really pinch pennies? Did you see the necklace at Madam Marchetti’s throat? He bought it this very morning. That one piece could pay for ten banquets."

I heard every word.

I stood on the upper floor, a new suitcase just paid for at my side, and watched them, my heart gone completely numb.

I didn’t bother answering his message. Instead I took out the severing of the blood pact and a handful of other documents, and arranged for a courier to carry them straight to the banquet hall.

Once it was done, I slid my sunglasses on and went straight for the airport.

A few hours later, Salvatore finally finished the shopping with Vittoria and Matteo. They arrived at the hotel, expecting a grand celebration.

Instead, they were told that Adriana had never come.

Salvatore glanced at his watch. More than an hour past the appointed time. Something cold stirred low in his chest. Adriana had never once been late for anything between them.

Just as he reached for his phone to call her, one of his men came running, panic written all over his face.

"Boss. Trouble. The Madam is gone. Someone just had these delivered."