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The Blood Pact He Hid for Seven Years and Broke in One Sentence
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
For seven years, I had been in a secret blood-bound arrangement with my brother’s sworn friend, Dominic Moretti. A Valente daughter and a rival Don, bound in the dark, hidden from every Family that ...
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第1章
For seven years, I had been in a secret blood-bound arrangement with my brother’s sworn friend, Dominic Moretti. A Valente daughter and a rival Don, bound in the dark, hidden from every Family that would have torn the peace apart over it.
One night, after the wine had gone down too easy, he looked at me with that lazy, dangerous smirk and said, “Adriana, I’ll find you a better man. Stop clinging to me, okay?”
I replied calmly and obediently, “Alright.”
It was because, in a past life, I had refused his suggestion and insisted on binding myself to him for good. After our pact was sealed, Dominic ignored me, deliberately distanced himself, and made me feel invisible.
Even when I was eight months pregnant and bleeding out after the car had been run off the road, he was sitting in a private box with his heartbroken Bianca, the Falcone girl, listening to her favorite band.
It was only then I realized he was someone else’s salvation, but he was never meant to be mine.
—
When I said “alright,” Dominic froze in place. He hadn’t expected me to agree so readily.
The dim light of the private lounge cast soft shadows over the leather and the low gleam of cut crystal. His handsome face carried an unusual flush, but his eyes stayed clear, showing no sign of the wine at all.
I sat composedly, my posture graceful, a faint smile on my lips as I looked at him.
In that instant the laziness drained out of him. Dominic straightened in his chair, and the gold signet ring on his finger caught the light as his hand went still on it. “Adriana, did you hear what I just said?”
I nodded. “I heard you clearly.”
In the old days, whenever he said something like this, I would pout, act playful, and beg him not to bring it up again.
But now my emotions were as calm as still water, as if I were merely a spectator watching a scene unfold, untouched and unmoved.
“Adriana, you...”
Before he could finish, my brother Lorenzo came back in from the hall. He entered with a teasing grin, the Underboss of the Valente Family wearing it like a man with no enemies in the room. “Guess who I just saw out there?”
Without waiting for an answer, Lorenzo went on, “Your old flame. Drunk off her feet, getting walked into another lounge by some of her people—”
Before he could finish, Dominic shot up from his seat and strode out. A moment later the sound of commotion and shattering glass echoed down the hallway, the kind of noise that, in our world, made the soldiers near the door reach for what sat under their jackets.
I stayed in my seat, unmoved, eating the peeled tangerine slices from the fruit platter.
Dominic liked fruit but hated peeling it. Every time, I would carefully peel it for him and set it in front of him, and only then would he take a few bites.
Lorenzo often teased me about it. “You’re too good to him. Why don’t I ever get treated like that by my own blood? Don’t tell me you’re sweet on him.”
Many times I was tempted to reveal what was between Dominic and me.
But Dominic would always gently pat my head and speak first. “Maybe, in Adriana’s eyes, I’m more of a brother to her than you are. A little sister spoiling her big brother. You have a problem with that, Lorenzo?”
Over time, I understood his intentions. He didn’t want a single soul to know.
So I kept my silence too.
For seven years, not one person knew what tied us together.
Now Lorenzo stood by the door, watching the chaos spill out into the hall, waiting for the right moment to step in. He cracked the knuckles of one hand against his palm, slow, the patience in him beginning to thin.
Glancing back at me, still calmly eating fruit, he teased, “Adriana, your precious Dominic just got himself into a brawl. Aren’t you going to help him?”
I swallowed the last slice of tangerine and shook my head. “My arms are too thin, my legs too weak. I’d only get in the way.”
At that Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, said nothing more, and went out to handle it himself.
I stayed in the lounge a long while, long enough for the noise outside to die down. Only then did I rise and walk out.
The moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw Dominic carefully holding another woman in his arms. His old flame and the Falcone daughter, Bianca.
Bianca was drunk, her body soft as if it had no bones in it, leaning her whole weight against him.
Dominic didn’t push her away. He held her tightly, as if he were afraid she might slip from his hands.
第2章
Dominic's deep, dark eyes showed a hint of anger mixed with concern, emotions he himself probably hadn't realized.
Lorenzo strolled over from the bar, raising a brow as he teased, "Adriana, you think those two might end up bound again?"
His voice wasn't particularly loud, but in a room where men measured every word, it was enough to carry to Dominic.
Dominic's head came up sharply at Lorenzo's words. When his gaze found me standing a few feet away, a fleeting trace of guilt crossed his face.
"I never thought about going back to her," he said, the words coming too fast for a man who never hurried. "She was just drunk."
I smiled faintly and shook my head. "Don Moretti, I understand. Bianca's in no state to look after herself. You should see her home."
He frowned slightly, displeased at the title, the formal distance of it. But he didn't refuse what I'd offered.
As he steadied Bianca against him and led her toward the door, he even turned back to instruct Lorenzo, "Don't let her wander the territory this late. See her home early."
Watching their figures disappear down the corridor, a sharp pain pricked my heart. And yet, at the same time, I found it painfully ironic.
In my past life, I had bound myself to Dominic the way I'd always dreamed, the secret pact sealed between us. But I never got the happiness I wanted.
On my birthday, I asked for nothing more than a quiet day with him. Instead he told me, "Celebrating birthdays is a waste of time. I'm busy. I don't have time for that."
Later that same day, I saw photographs on Bianca's social pages of the two of them hiking, camping, laughing in the open air.
When my stomach ulcer flared and I asked him to take me to the doctor for a check, he said, "I'm not a physician. Having me there won't heal you. Don't bother me."
Yet I learned afterward that he'd driven Bianca to the hospital himself, for nothing more than a mild cold.
When I was eight months along and the crash left me bleeding out, the doctor called him in a panic, begging him to come sign the consent for surgery.
His answer was as cold as ice. "Is she dead? If not, don't call me."
As his words came through the phone, I heard Bianca's delighted voice somewhere behind him. "Dominic, this concert was worth every favor you called in. They're finally on stage."
The line went dead. Blood soaked the sheets beneath me, spreading fast until half the blanket had gone red.
The crushing weight of how I died in that other life pressed down on me again, suffocating, as I stood there remembering. I clutched my chest and let out a bitter smile.
Dominic, if you never loved me, then I won't love you anymore either.
That night, Lorenzo brought me home just in time to make the curfew our father had set under the old rules of the house.
The next morning I woke groggy and reached for my phone to check the hour. What greeted me instead was a message from Bianca.
She'd sent a photo of Dominic asleep at her place, with the caption: Dominic stayed the night to keep me company.
Seeing it, I felt nothing. I replied with a single word. Oh.
I ignored her after that, but she wasn't willing to let it lie. Soon another photo came through, this time of breakfast.
This is the breakfast Dominic made for me this morning, she wrote. He even made heart-shaped eggs, my favorite.
Dominic had never once set foot in a kitchen in all our years. He always said the kitchen was a woman's place, that no man of standing belonged there.
So for him, I, a woman who had never cooked a thing in her life, signed up for lessons just to learn. As long as I was around, there was always a warm, home-cooked meal waiting for him.
But seeing the trouble he went to for Bianca, I understood at last how ridiculous I had been.
I glanced at her messages, didn't reply, and calmly set the phone down to finish my own breakfast.
Five minutes later, a message from Dominic appeared.
He said nothing about the night before. Instead: The yam and pork rib soup you made last time was good. Make some today and bring it to me.
And don't add scallions this time.
第3章
Seeing the message, my expression darkened slightly.
Dominic had no aversion to scallions. He'd always claimed they deepened the flavor of a soup, the way an old recipe carried the weight of the family that made it.
After a moment's thought, I replied with a simple, [Okay.]
Once I sent the message, I decisively opened a delivery service and ordered some random yam and pork rib soup sent to his office on the top floor of the Moretti hotel, the one that laundered half the family's cash flow.
That evening, I went out to dinner with my brother.
Lorenzo had reserved a private room at one of the old-family restaurants on neutral ground, the kind where the waiters knew not to repeat what they heard. We had just arrived when we saw Dominic and Bianca walking in, arms linked, smiling sweetly.
The moment Dominic spotted us, he instinctively let go of her hand and walked toward us. A man feared across three territories, and still his first reaction was to drop her like evidence.
Bianca's expression faltered for a brief moment. Then her hand drifted to her collarbone, steadying herself a beat too soon, before she composed herself and approached with a smile. "We're late, and there aren't any open tables. Would you mind if we joined yours?"
Without waiting for a reply, Dominic sat down next to me.
Lorenzo's eyes widened in surprise, and he stood quickly, pulling him to switch places. "What are you thinking? How is it appropriate for me to sit next to her?"
Reluctantly, Dominic let himself be nudged into the seat across from me. His eyes carried a hint of displeasure, as if waiting for me to say something.
Avoiding his gaze, I handed the menu to Bianca. "Bianca, why don't you order what you two would like? My brother and I have already decided."
She took the menu with a smile, trying to appear natural. "Adriana, the yam and pork rib soup you make is so delicious. Much better than anything you can buy outside."
Her words confirmed my suspicion. The soup Dominic had asked me to make was for her.
I smiled faintly but said nothing.
Lorenzo, however, seemed impressed. "She had this sudden urge to take cooking lessons a while ago. I was worried she'd burn the estate down, but it turns out she's a natural. I wonder which lucky man will benefit from this someday."
Dominic had been smiling subtly, but at those words, his smile faded. Slowly, he lifted his glass of wine, the dark vintage catching the candlelight, and sipped. "Adriana," he asked calmly, "are you thinking about being courted?"
I looked at him in confusion.
Recalling the words he'd said in that private room, I nodded slightly. "I'm twenty-six this year. It's time. If you know someone suitable, I'd appreciate an introduction."
"You've finally come to your senses!" Lorenzo was more excited than anyone. Laughing, he said, "I've been trying to arrange something for ages, but you kept refusing. Now that you're finally open to it, I'll do my best to find you a man worth your blood!"
After Lorenzo's words, Dominic's thin lips pressed tightly together. His sharp gaze stayed fixed on me, as though trying to read what I would not say. His thumb found the heavy gold signet on his finger, turning it slowly inward.
Bianca noticed the shift in his mood and giggled. "Adriana, you're so lucky to have such a great brother. I'm honestly a little jealous. But you know, I think Dominic is pretty great. What if—"
"Don't say such things. Adriana is my little sister," Dominic cut in with a frown, his tone laced with faint reproach, though his expression held only exasperation.
I nodded in agreement, smiling. "Exactly. I see Dominic as my own brother. Bianca, you shouldn't joke about things like that."
"And honestly, I think you and Dominic are a better match than I'd ever be," I added.
Dominic's face darkened instantly. His eyes glinted with faint anger as he gave a sharp laugh. "Is that so? Then how about I introduce someone to you. Would you make time to meet them?"
"Of course. Thank you in advance, Dominic." I smiled brightly and agreed without hesitation.
For the next few days, I didn't contact Dominic, and he didn't contact me either.
Instead, it was Bianca who showed up at my door.
When she arrived, both Lorenzo and I happened to be home.
第4章
"What's the matter? Spit it out," Lorenzo said bluntly, cracking the knuckles of one hand against his palm.
Feigning a hint of shyness, Bianca cast a quick glance my way before addressing him. Her fingers drifted to her collarbone. "Lorenzo, you know how Dominic and I grew up together, two families bound since we were children. Even though we've severed things and come back to each other a few times, the feelings never died."
"It was my fault, calling for the split during our last quarrel. This time, I want to make my confession and come back to him. Can the two of you help me?"
If I hadn't lived through my past life, I might have declared on the spot that Dominic loved me, that no oath in the world would bring him back to her. I would have told her to give up.
But because of everything I endured in my past life, I knew with cold certainty how deeply Dominic cared for her. They were meant to be bound. The way two old families fold into one.
"Sure, that's no trouble at all. Honestly, anyone with eyes can see Dominic still carries something for you. You make your confession, it'll work out," Lorenzo answered, flat and easy, as though arranging a sit-down between friendly houses.
A smile of confidence spread across Bianca's face as she looked at me with an air of triumph.
I remained indifferent, not taking it to heart.
Two days later, Lorenzo and Dominic's men had staged the perfect confession. They all agreed that the truth of a man's heart showed in moments of danger, so the plan was to take everyone out to a mountain stream for whitewater rafting, far from the watchful eyes of the city and its territories.
When we reached the place, I tried to refuse, since I'd never learned to swim, but Bianca seized my hand and insisted I climb onto the raft with them.
Bianca was terrified of the water and clung to Dominic like he was the only solid thing in the world.
Lorenzo, reading the unspoken arrangement, stepped aside to give them room and settled beside me.
As the raft slid down the current, Bianca was so frightened she practically threw herself against Dominic.
Instead of pushing her off, he patted her back and murmured, "Don't be scared. I'm here."
His voice was incredibly soft, incredibly patient, the way a man gentles a frightened child.
For a fleeting moment, I was carried back to the early days of our blood-bound arrangement in my past life.
Back then, I was full of hope for the life we'd build behind closed doors. I took every detail of our hidden household onto my own shoulders, believing my work would make him feel the warmth of a family no famiglia could give him.
But one night, after I'd collected him from a drunken evening with his soldiers, I overheard him pouring himself out to Bianca.
In his stupor, he muttered, "I feel like I didn't take a woman of my own. I took a nanny. She has to control everything, never stops nagging. I don't even want to come home anymore."
"You, though. You're so much easier. You know when to leave a man his space. You never make me feel hemmed in."
Before I could finish swallowing the bitter memory, another raft lost control and slammed violently into ours, dragging me back to the present.
There was no time to react. The impact rocked us so hard I reached for Lorenzo to steady myself, but a different hand closed around my arm instead.
Before I understood what was happening, I was wrenched off balance and went into the stream with a loud splash.
The icy water flooded my mouth and throat, and I came up gasping, struggling frantically against the current.
Through the haze of my panic, I caught a glimpse of Dominic going off the raft into the water.
For one brief moment, hope flickered in my heart. I waved my arms, desperate for him to see me.
But I watched, with crushing clarity, as he cut straight past me without hesitation, swimming for Bianca.
Adriana, what are you still hoping for?
I wanted to laugh at myself, but I couldn't even find the strength.
Thank God, Lorenzo reached me in time and hauled me back to the bank.
As I caught my breath, still shaking from it, he said, "The confession's all set. Come watch the show."
He took my hand and led me up to the grass.
On the lawn, Dominic's men had laid out an enormous heart made of fresh flowers. Inside it sat the relics of their history: handwritten letters, photographs of the two of them, the gifts traded across years of feast days and birthdays.
Dominic stood there, soaked through, visibly stunned as he took it all in.
Bianca, a bouquet cradled in her arms, stepped in front of him and began to pour out her heart, confessing her love.
A gentle wind swept past, stirring ripples across the still water of my heart.
I told myself they loved each other, that the two of them bound together was the cleanest arrangement of all.
When the cheers and shouts from the crowd urging him to take her grew louder, I joined in, clapping, calling out with them, "Say yes! Be together!"
Dominic turned to me. The signet ring on his finger went still beneath his thumb, his hand frozen against it, and his face was one of utter disbelief.
"Adriana, are you out of your mind? Did you forget that I'm your man?" he said.