The Underboss’s Abandoned Bride

He didn't pause, didn't listen. "I'm warning you, don't use the baby to manipulate me. If you want to get rid of it, then do it. Do whatever you want." Then a soft, fragile voice came from the other end. "Dante, don't be mad at her. She's just worried about you. This is all my fault…" "Viviana, this isn't your fault…" he replied gently. And then the call ended. My hand fell weakly to my side. A bitter smile touched my lips, faint and hollow. Of course. How could I ever compare to his precious Viviana? Holding on any longer would only make me look more pathetic. But my baby… my child had only needed two more months to come into this world. The so-called incident at the mall had been about me from the very beginning. It was all because of Dante. The moment the button man grabbed me, he slapped me hard across the face, twice in quick succession. My head spun, my vision blurring as his voice echoed faintly. "Your husband couldn't save my wife! Do you even understand that?" he shouted bitterly. "That so-called surgeon is nothing but a fraud! And I know his Family has money. Snatching you means I can finally get compensation for what he caused!" When I realized he wanted money, a small sense of relief flickered inside me. At least that meant he wouldn't kill me immediately. At least my baby might still have a chance. But after eight calls, seven ignored and one filled with nothing but blame, I lost all value in his eyes. At that moment, I had never been more terrified. I knelt on the ground, begging desperately, my voice shaking as I pleaded for my child's life. But my words meant nothing. The knife on the table was picked up without hesitation. Then it was driven straight into my stomach. The pain was unbearable, a burning agony that spread through my entire body. Warm blood poured out, soaking everything beneath me. My baby was gone, just like that. And yet, only that morning, I had felt tiny kicks inside me, gentle and full of life. My consciousness began to fade, slipping further and further away. Without my baby, I no longer had the strength to hold on. I thought I could just let go, let everything end. But just as I accepted that fate, Adriana broke through the window to reach me. She glanced at my phone lying on the floor, its screen still faintly lit, and shouted in panic, "Why didn't you answer? If I hadn't come, what would've happened to you? Were you just waiting to die?" Her hands trembled as she lifted me, trying desperately to call Luca. But the only response she got was the same cold message: Viviana's in court. Do not disturb. Those six words left her frozen, disbelief filling her eyes. She tried calling the police, but the signal was gone. No cell coverage that far from the main road. No matter how many times she tried, it didn't connect. With no other choice, she dragged me into her car and drove forward along the narrow back road that cut through Falcone timber land, refusing to give up. But then came the landslide, blocking the road completely. Perhaps it was fate. As the rain poured down and the world around me faded into darkness, I slowly closed my eyes and let everything drift away. Now, Adriana and I lay in the same room in the Family's private clinic, side by side on two narrow beds. The sterile white walls felt cold and distant, and the faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air. A soldier stood post outside the door. I could see his shadow through the frosted glass, still as a statue, guarding a room no one from the Family had bothered to visit. Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on us like an invisible weight. Neither of us spoke at first, as if even breathing too loudly might shatter what little composure we had left. She must have heard Dante's outburst over the phone earlier. Even in her weakened state, she forced herself to sit up, her movements slow and unsteady. Reaching out, she gripped my hand tightly. Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly, and her face was pale as tears slipped down silently, falling onto the back of my hand. My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat, back and forth, back and forth, while I stared at the ceiling and refused to let the burning behind my eyes become anything more. "I'm so sorry, Bianca," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I never should have introduced you to Dante. You deserved so much better than this… you still do."

I could see the guilt weighing heavily on her, almost crushing her. But honestly, my heart hurt even more for her than for myself. She had spent two long years trying to conceive, holding onto hope month after month. And yet, she lost her baby before she even realized she had been pregnant. The cruelty of it all was unbearable. I was just about to comfort her when her phone suddenly rang. It was her husband, Luca. The moment she answered, his voice came through, harsh and impatient. "My brother said Bianca is planning to get rid of the baby. Was this your idea?" His tone only grew sharper as he continued. "Can you two stop acting crazy for once? Didn't I tell you yesterday I was working on Viviana's case? It's important! I told you not to bother me. Are you deaf?" He didn't pause to listen, didn't give her a chance to speak. "Honestly, I don't even know why I married you. Always causing trouble, always threatening to walk away like it's some kind of joke. If you want out, then go. No one's stopping you." The call ended abruptly, leaving nothing but a hollow silence behind. My blood-sworn sister stared at her phone for a moment, her expression blank. Then she shook her head lightly, trying to brush it off, but her eyes reddened uncontrollably. Through the half-open door, I caught the shape of a soldier posted in the corridor, his gaze fixed straight ahead, pretending he hadn't heard a word. That was how things worked in this family. Everyone heard everything. No one acknowledged a thing. I reached out and took her hand in mine, holding it gently despite how cold it felt. "Don't be sad," I whispered softly. "We're still alive. That's what matters most." I forced a small smile. "Maybe this is a sign. Maybe it's time for us to let go of everything that's been hurting us." "Let's rest for now," I continued, my voice steady. "And when we're stronger, we'll walk out together. We'll start over. Deal?" She choked out a quiet "okay," her voice barely audible. Adriana smoothed the seam of her sleeve flat with two precise strokes, and then, as if something inside her finally broke, she leaned forward and collapsed against my shoulder. Her sobs came all at once, uncontrollable and raw. I held her tightly as my own tears began to fall. Fear, anger, grief, heartbreak, everything we had been suppressing poured out in that moment. What we once believed were dream marriages had turned out to be nothing but carefully disguised nightmares. I couldn't help but remember the early days, when we had just gotten married. We had even shared our story with the wives of other families at a christening dinner, laughing about how "blood-sworn sisters married Falcone brothers," thinking it was something special. At the time, the other women had raised their glasses, saying things like, "Double the blessing on the Falcone name!" and "You two are living the dream." Back then, we had believed it too. But everything began to fall apart six months ago, the moment Viviana Caruso returned from Europe. After that, Dante was suddenly always "too busy" to answer calls, his phone constantly unreachable. Luca, too, was rarely at the estate, always out at quiet sit-downs, working the old-country circuit, or attending events at the family's hotel fronts. That was when we slowly realized the truth. This marriage had never been about love. It was nothing more than Dante and Luca's twisted way of getting close to Viviana again, a carefully planned move in a game that had nothing to do with us. The alliances our families had blessed, the rings exchanged at the altar of St. Cecilia's, all of it had been part of their selfish scheme. The most painful part was how long Adriana and I had been fooled. We had believed everything. We had trusted them completely. We had even allowed them to bring Viviana into the Falcone compound, thinking it was only temporary. But instead, we watched them dote on her, giving her everything they had never given us. Their phones were filled with photos of the three of them together, smiling, laughing, looking like a perfect trio. Those photos were always hidden from our view, carefully concealed. A Family surgeon and a Consigliere, both respected and feared, yet they revolved entirely around Viviana. Dante suddenly took an interest in obstetrics, just to be closer to her. Luca personally handled her separation case through the Consigliere's front office, going out of his way for her. Meanwhile, we, their wives, received nothing. Not even a word on Christmas morning. Not a single bouquet of flowers.

They were present physically, but emotionally, they had never been with us at all. We had ignored the truth for far too long. Either their hearts had already moved on, or perhaps they had never loved us from the beginning. It took losing two lives for me to finally see it clearly. Lying in bed at the private clinic the Family kept off the books in Bensonhurst, I tried to distract myself by scrolling through my phone, deliberately avoiding anything that might trigger more pain. The room smelled of antiseptic and cold tile, and somewhere beyond the locked door a soldier sat in a folding chair, flipping through a racing form. But when I opened TikTok, a video on the trending page immediately caught my attention. It was Viviana's latest post. She looked radiant, basking in attention, proudly showing off the two men she called her childhood friends. The Falcone name hung over every frame like a halo she had borrowed. There were three photos. One was a group picture of the three of them together at what looked like a private dinner at Rao's. Another was a legal document. And the last was a close-up of her hands gently cradling her stomach. Her caption read: [Those who truly care for you will always show up before danger does. Thank you, my dearest friends.] The comment section was overflowing with admiration. People wrote things like, "Where can I find friends like this?" and "You're so lucky, girl!" A few users even pointed out, "Aren't those the brothers who married those best friends?" But those comments were quickly buried under waves of praise, disappearing almost instantly. Just then, Adriana sent me a screenshot of the post. Her message was short, but steady: [Bianca, I don't know why, but I feel nothing when I look at this.] Another message followed. [Two husbands for one wife. Since they want it so badly, let's just make it official for them.] I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling slowly. My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat, slow and deliberate, as though pressing down on a bruise I refused to flinch from. [You're right. This has nothing to do with us anymore. I'm contacting a family counsel for the separation. I've endured enough.] The consigliere's front office moved quickly. By the very next day, both of our separation petitions were prepared. I had copies sent directly to Dante and Luca's private email addresses, the ones routed through the legitimate hospital and law firm accounts so the Family servers wouldn't flag them first. Two days passed. Neither of them responded. Not a single word. The silence dragged on, heavy and exhausting, wearing down what little patience I had left. Finally, I messaged Dante again. [Have you seen the papers? Please respond.] His reply came quickly, but it was nothing more than anger. [Haven't you caused enough trouble? The more you push, the less I want to come home. Stop trying to test me!] I stared at the message, stunned by his arrogance. How had I never seen this side of him before? Dante wasn't the man I thought he was. He was nothing more than a self-centered, arrogant fool. The Underboss, the celebrated surgeon, the man whose word moved soldiers and operating rooms alike. And he couldn't send his wife a single honest sentence. I was about to reply when I heard a soft, sweet voice in the background. "Dante, what are you doing? Come eat. Luca and I have been waiting for you." A bitter smile formed on my lips. "No wonder you have no time for us. You're too busy with your precious 'sister,' aren't you?" "Bianca, what's wrong with you?" he snapped. "I'm just helping out. Viviana is pregnant. Unlike you, she can't even handle being in the kitchen." The word "pregnant" hit me like a punch to the chest. My composure shattered instantly. "You care so much about someone else's child," I said, my voice trembling. "What about ours, Dante? Did you ever care about me? Or about your own baby?" His tone turned cold, dismissive. "This is pointless…" Then Viviana's voice came again, light and amused. "Bianca, we're both expecting mothers. I understand how it feels. Pregnancy hormones can make you emotional. Not everyone is as lucky as me, but don't be too upset." Her words cut deep, sharper than any blade. A sharp pain flared from my wound, and I felt my strength draining away. The clinic room pressed inward, the hum of the fluorescent light overhead suddenly unbearable. Dante's voice softened instantly, filled with concern. "Don't worry about her. Your health is what matters most, Viviana. Whatever you need, I'll be there." I struggled to breathe as tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. In these two years, he had never truly cared for me. Not even once. To him, I was nothing more than a convenient presence, something easily replaced. A name on an alliance that kept the peace between families. A body in the pew at Sunday Mass. Before I could say anything else, the call ended. The silence that followed was crushing. I let out a broken sob, unable to hold it in any longer. Beyond the door, the soldier's racing form rustled once, then went still.

Adriana rushed over immediately, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "Let it out, Bianca," she whispered, her voice gentle but firm. "He's not worth it. Your baby understood that much. A man like him could never be a real father." She held me closer and added softly, "It's okay. If they ignore the papers, we'll take legal action. This marriage will end, one way or another." My blood-sworn sister and I stayed in the Family clinic for three long weeks. Day after day passed in that quiet, guarded wing, where time seemed to stretch endlessly. A single soldier sat posted outside the door around the clock, not because the Falcones had sent him but because the attending doctor owed Adriana's people a favor and wasn't taking chances. During those weeks, not a single word came from the brothers. No calls, no messages, not even a simple question asking where we were or how we were doing. It was as if we had completely disappeared from their world. Any last trace of hope we had once clung to slowly dissolved under that cold indifference. With each passing day, it became clearer that we had never truly mattered to them. It wasn't until the day we were discharged that we finally ran into Luca. He didn't even notice us at first. His gaze was fixed ahead, his steps quick and purposeful, as if he had somewhere far more important to be. Curiosity stirred within us, and without a word, we followed him quietly down the hallway, keeping our distance. He led us straight to the maternity ward. And the moment we stepped closer, everything became painfully clear. Inside, Viviana lay on the hospital bed, clinging tightly to Dante. Her face was pale, her voice trembling as she cried about her fear of giving birth. Luca stood beside her, gently brushing the hair away from her face, his movements soft and careful. Both men looked at her with the same tender concern, their attention fully centered on her. The three of them together created a scene of warmth and harmony, something that should have been comforting. But to us, it was nothing but painful. Without thinking, Adriana and I both placed our hands over our stomachs. The emptiness there felt heavier than ever. The contrast was unbearable. Her fear was wrapped in love and protection, while our loss had been met with silence and neglect. Unable to keep watching, I forced myself to look away. My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat, and I grabbed Adriana's arm gently and led her out of the clinic without another glance. We had more important things to do now. See you at the registry office the day after tomorrow, I sent Dante a message as we walked out. And bring Luca with you. This is serious. If you don't show up, we'll proceed through the courts. Almost instantly, Dante called me. But I didn't pick up. More messages followed, one after another, flooding my phone. I didn't read any of them. Instead, I simply turned my phone off. After that, Adriana and I went straight to the police station to report what had happened. Adriana smoothed the seam of her sleeve flat with two precise strokes as we pushed through the precinct door. Going to the cops. Two Falcone wives walking into a station house of their own free will. We both understood what that meant. Omertà had rules, and we were about to break every one of them. This wasn't just an accident. It was a deliberate act of revenge, targeted specifically at a Family surgeon's household. I recounted everything in detail to the officer, from the snatch job to the violence that followed. His expression grew increasingly serious as he listened. "This is a serious case," he said, his tone concerned. "Why didn't you report it earlier? If the suspect comes after you again…" I let out a bitter laugh, interrupting him. "He won't." "Even the man who took me knows I have no value to Dante," I continued quietly. "Hurting me doesn't affect him at all." I asked the officer to check the surveillance footage and investigate further. I explained how Adriana and I had lost our babies during the incident, and how we had barely survived a landslide on our own. His expression softened, sympathy flickering in his eyes. "Don't worry, Mrs. Falcone," he said firmly. "We'll do everything we can to get to the truth." When we stepped out of the station, I checked my phone again. Viviana had posted a new update. A little angel, 6 pounds and 3 ounces, has entered my life. The comment section was lively, filled with congratulations and blessings. Dante replied beneath it: Christening sponsor number one, reporting for duty. Luca followed shortly after: Christening sponsor number two, here as well. A wave of irony washed over me. If they ever found out that they had lost their own children, I wondered… would it even matter to them?

Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Adriana and I returned to the small apartment I had lived in before the marriage. The place was modest, but it felt strangely comforting, like returning to something real after a long illusion. Four rooms above a dry cleaner on Mulberry Street, no doorman, no security detail, no Falcone name on the buzzer. Just mine. When I turned my phone back on, a series of missed calls from Dante immediately appeared. After a moment of hesitation, I called him back. The moment he answered, his voice exploded with anger. "Are you done with your tantrums yet?" "I told you to stay home and rest! Now the house is a complete mess. I only found out because I went back to grab a gift for Viviana's baby!" His words kept coming, sharp and relentless. "And Adriana? What are you dragging her into now? Luca can't even reach her. You've probably turned her against him too!" "Do you have to ruin everything you touch? You've even destroyed their marriage now. Are you satisfied?" Adriana's fists clenched tightly beside me, her anger barely contained. I gently reached out and held her back. "Don't waste your energy on someone like him," I whispered softly. Then I spoke into the phone, my tone calm and detached. "Dante, let's keep this simple. I want a divorce. I don't have time for your baseless accusations." Before I could say more, Adriana snatched the phone from my hand, unable to hold back any longer. "You know what, Dante?" she snapped. "Marrying into your family has been nothing but a curse!" "Let me make this clear. Adriana and I want divorces because you and Luca are both fools. Do you understand?" Without waiting for a response, she hung up and immediately blocked him on every platform. The next morning, as we prepared to leave for the county clerk's office, we saw Viviana standing at the entrance of my building, holding her baby in her arms. Two of the Falcone soldiers who usually ran security at the family compound waited by a black sedan at the curb, which told me everything about who had sent her and how she had found the address. Her face was pale, her expression fragile, as if she might collapse at any moment. She looked pitiful, like a delicate flower trembling in the wind. The moment she saw us, she dropped to her knees, her movements sudden and dramatic. "Bianca, Adriana, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I came to apologize on behalf of Dante and Luca. This is all my fault. Please don't blame them." "They were only looking out for me as a single mother," she continued, her tone soft and pleading. "They stayed with me at the hospital because I was scared. I thought they had already explained everything to you. I even reminded them…" "I never meant to cause any misunderstanding." Even now, she maintained her act perfectly, presenting herself as the innocent victim while subtly showing off her closeness with the two brothers. The ward they had sheltered since childhood, the woman the whole Family treated like porcelain. The soldiers by the sedan watched without expression. Seeing Adriana's anger rising, I stepped forward quickly, my gaze turning cold. "Oh? Viviana," I said evenly, "do I need your permission to get a divorce?" "Your little act doesn't work on us anymore. Save it." Out of basic courtesy for the child in her arms, I bent down to help her up. But just as the elevator doors opened behind us, her expression changed in an instant. Without warning, she let herself collapse onto the floor, as if I had pushed her. I froze in shock, unable to react immediately. Before I could say anything, Dante rushed over and shoved me hard. "Bianca! How can you be so cruel?" he shouted. "Stay away from her!" Caught off guard, I stumbled backward and fell. Adriana quickly rushed to my side, helping me up. "Bianca, are you okay?" she asked anxiously. Only after confirming that Viviana was unharmed did Dante finally turn to look at me. He opened his mouth, clearly ready to lash out again. But the moment his eyes fell on my flat stomach, his expression changed completely. His face went pale. The Falcone Underboss, the man who had held a scalpel steady inside dying soldiers, went absolutely still. "Where's the baby?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Bianca… where is our child?" My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat. I said nothing. At that moment, the elevator doors opened again. Luca stepped out, still talking on his phone. "What's going on now?" he said impatiently. "I could hear you arguing all the way down the hall. You're going to scare the baby."

"I have to get back to court," he added quickly. "There's a vendetta snatch job involving a pregnant woman who was stabbed. The prosecution is pressing charges." As his gaze landed on me, he paused briefly before glancing at Dante. "Hey," he said casually, "did she already give birth?" That question seemed to snap Dante back to reality. Panic flooded his eyes as he grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Bianca, you had the baby, right?" he said urgently. "Don't scare me like this!" Dante's questions came rushing out one after another, his voice trembling as his hands gripped my shoulders tightly. He shook me as if trying to force an answer out of me, his face filled with panic and desperation, as though he had just realized something he could no longer control. But while he panicked, my heart felt like it was being torn apart all over again. The pain inside me ran just as deep, only quieter, heavier, suffocating. I could still feel it so clearly, as if it were happening again in that very moment. The cold blade plunging into my stomach, the violent, tearing pain that followed, and the horrifying sensation of my baby slipping away from me. That memory was carved into my mind, raw and vivid, something I would never be able to forget. It replayed again and again, each time bringing with it the same unbearable agony. I had never felt hatred like this before. It wasn't just anger. It was something darker, something that consumed everything inside me. If only he had answered the phone. If only he had spared me even a moment of his time. If only he had sensed that I needed him, just once. Then maybe… just maybe… our baby would still be alive. Now, looking at Dante and Luca standing in front of me, their faces filled with guilt and confusion, I felt nothing but disgust rising within me. The foyer of the house we'd shared was still and cold, the two soldiers posted by the front door staring straight ahead as if they'd been trained not to hear a word. They had been. That was how the Falcone household worked. You heard nothing. You saw nothing. You carried it to the grave. "The baby is gone," I said, my voice flat and emotionless. "Not just mine. Adriana's too." I paused briefly, letting the weight of my words sink in. "She had just found out she was one month pregnant. I told both of you. But you didn't listen." "There's nothing left to say anymore," I continued quietly. "I want the separation. The alliance is done." Dante staggered backward as if struck, disbelief flooding his expression. His lips trembled as he muttered, "So… you weren't trying to scare me. The baby… our baby is really gone…" But then, as if refusing to accept reality, he suddenly snapped. His face twisted with anger as he shouted, "Bianca, you're not even human!" "The baby was eight months along!" he continued, his voice rising uncontrollably. "And you just decided to get rid of it out of spite? She was fully formed!" "Are you insane?" he roared. "How could you kill our child? Come with me to the police station. You have to pay for this!" The room went very still. One of the soldiers by the door shifted his weight, then caught himself. Nobody moved. A bitter smile slowly formed on my lips as I looked at him. There was sadness in it, but also something cold, something hollow. My thumb rubbed the pale band of skin where my wedding ring had sat, back and forth, the only motion in my body that I couldn't seem to stop. "If you want to talk about killers," I said calmly, "you should look at yourself. And Viviana." "I was attacked because of a surgery you performed," I continued, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "A clandestine operation. It was revenge for a life you couldn't save on that table." "They found me because of you," I said. "They beat me. They kicked me. They stabbed a knife into my stomach." "And you call me inhuman?" I took a step closer, my gaze locking onto his. "Do you know who led them to me?" "It was your dear 'sister,' Viviana," I said coldly. "She told them that snatching me would get your attention." "So tell me," I pressed, my voice trembling slightly, "who really killed our child?" My voice shook under the weight of everything I had endured. "Do you think anyone feels this loss more than I do?" Dante didn't answer. His hand had drifted to his wrist, his thumb dragging once across the face of his watch, but whatever truth he was measuring stayed locked behind his teeth. "No… no, it wasn't me…" Viviana stammered, her face turning pale as she tried to defend herself. Her voice faltered, her usual composure slipping. One hand curled at her side, a fingernail pressing hard into the pad of her thumb until the skin blanched white. Before she could say more, Luca suddenly turned toward me, cutting her off.

"Wait," he said, his voice unsteady. "Adriana was one month pregnant? Then what happened to her baby?" "I thought only one person was kidnapped," he continued, confusion and unease creeping into his tone. "What does any of this have to do with her?" At that, Adriana stepped forward without hesitation. Her hand rose swiftly, striking his face with a loud, sharp slap. The sound cracked through the sitting room like a pistol shot. Not one of the soldiers standing along the wall moved. Not one of them breathed. "You have no right to ask that!" she shouted, her voice filled with rage and pain. "If either of you had bothered to answer your phones, we wouldn't have been caught in that landslide!" she continued, her eyes blazing. "We wouldn't have been trapped there. And our baby wouldn't have died!" Her voice broke slightly, but she forced herself to continue. She smoothed the seam of her sleeve flat with two precise strokes, and when she spoke again, her words carried the cold clarity of a verdict read aloud. "Maybe it's better this way." "You two never deserved to be fathers. Or husbands," she said bitterly. "Wasn't it obvious that you cared more about Viviana and her child?" "Now you can finally have your so-called 'real family.' Whatever happens to our children doesn't matter to you anyway." Luca stood frozen, one hand still touching his cheek where the mark of her slap remained. His expression was blank, as if he couldn't process what he had just heard. The Consigliere of the Falcone Family, the man who could talk a federal judge into a continuance without raising his voice, stood there with nothing. Dante, on the other hand, seemed to finally grasp the full weight of the situation. His face turned pale, his body stiff with shock. "You're saying… Bianca was actually kidnapped?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Why didn't you call me?" "You got caught in a landslide trying to save her?" he continued, panic creeping into his tone. "Why didn't you tell us?" But it was too late. Far too late for questions, for regret, for anything at all. I looked at him calmly, my voice steady but cold. "When you ignored my first seven calls, I was tied up, being beaten." "When you finally answered the eighth call, I was already worthless to them," I continued. "They decided my baby's life wasn't worth sparing." "You could have saved us, Dante," I said softly. "At first, the kidnapper only wanted money. He never planned to kill our child." Those words shattered him completely. Dante collapsed to the ground, burying his face in his hands as he began to sob uncontrollably. The Underboss of the Falcone Family, the man whose hands had pulled bullets from living men without flinching, knelt on the floor of his own house and wept like something inside him had finally been cut that couldn't be sutured back together. Viviana rushed forward instinctively, trying to comfort him, wrapping her arms around him. But this time, he pushed her away without hesitation. The force sent her stumbling back, her hand scraping against the floor, leaving a streak of blood behind. Her eyes widened in shock. It was the first time she had ever been rejected like this. Her fingernail pressed into the pad of her thumb until the skin blanched white. Ignoring her entirely, I turned to Luca, my gaze cold and unyielding. "Do you know something interesting?" I said. "The kidnapping case you're handling… the victim and the plaintiff are right in front of you." The silence in the room changed. It thickened. Even the clock on the mantle seemed to hold its breath. The realization hit them both at once. Their expressions changed instantly as suspicion flickered in their eyes, both of them turning to look at Viviana. "N-no, it wasn't me!" she stammered, panic rising in her voice. "I swear, it wasn't me!" "I was at the mall that day too," she continued hurriedly. "I was a victim as well! How could it be me? How would I even know it was Bianca who got kidnapped?" In the past, her tears would have been enough to soften their hearts immediately. They would have rushed to comfort her without question. But this time, neither of them moved. Instead, they exchanged a silent glance, their expressions darkened by doubt and something that looked dangerously close to realization. Two brothers raised in the same house, trained by the same Don, and for the first time in years they were looking at the same truth from the same side. I stepped closer, my voice calm but carrying a final, undeniable weight. My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat. "I never told anyone where it happened," I said slowly. "Or when." I looked directly into her eyes. "So tell me, Viviana… how did you know I was at the mall?"