She had never been just a colleague or an outsider.
She was his past. His childhood sweetheart. The girl he had loved long before I ever entered his life. They had supposedly broken up years ago, their story finished and buried.
But I guess some stories never really end.
Around us, the crowd began to murmur, whispers spreading like wildfire through the ballroom of the Valente estate.
"God, poor Seraphina… She just gave everything to those kids, and now he does this to her?"
"Didn't they agree not to have children at all? And then he goes and adopts two behind her back? That's insane."
"And now that the kids are heading off to the Ivy League, he doesn't even bother pretending anymore."
The voices blurred together, but every word cut deep, each one confirming the truth I could no longer deny.
"I think those twins are Nico's biological kids, with that Sorrentino woman," someone muttered under their breath, just loud enough for the people nearby to hear.
"Is there even a doubt?" another voice chimed in immediately, sharper, more certain. "Why else would he be so eager to push Seraphina into transferring all the territory to them? This was planned from the start."
"Poor woman," a third person added, shaking their head. "She didn't just get fooled. She was completely played from beginning to end."
The whispers spread like wildfire, rippling through the gathering in overlapping waves of speculation, judgment, and disbelief. What had started as a formal sit-down filled with toasts, old vintages, and the carefully measured laughter of Family allies had twisted into something else entirely. A spectacle, ugly and raw. Conversations faltered, heads turned, and eyes began to settle on me, some filled with pity, others with curiosity, and a few with thinly veiled satisfaction. Even the soldiers standing post along the walls had gone still, their hands loose at their sides, watching the center of the room the way men watch a car wreck on the expressway.
And at the center of it all, I stood there, holding the remains of a life I had just signed away.
My mother clutched my arm tightly, her fingers trembling as if she were trying to anchor me in place. Her face was streaked with tears, her carefully composed elegance completely shattered. Her other hand had found the crucifix at her throat, and her knuckles were white around it.
"Seraphina, this is exactly what we warned you about," she cried, her voice breaking as emotion spilled over. "We told you he was calculating. We told you he wasn't what he pretended to be. He's always been after our territory, our name, always! That man never loved you, not for a second. And those kids…" Her voice faltered, her grip tightening on my arm. "You don't even know where they came from! But you wouldn't listen. You refused to listen to us."
Her words trembled with both anger and despair, years of suppressed worry finally breaking free.
My father had stormed off earlier in a fit of rage, unable to bear what he was witnessing. But now he returned, flanked by two of his oldest soldiers who kept a respectful distance, his expression dark as thunder, his entire body rigid with fury. The room felt the shift before anyone saw him. Conversations nearest the door died first, then silence spread outward like a pressure wave. Even diminished by age, even with his heart betraying him, Don Salvatore Valente still moved through a room the way a blade moves through water.
The moment his eyes landed on me, something inside him seemed to snap all over again.
"How could I have raised such a foolish daughter?" he roared, his voice shaking with anger and disbelief. "Why the hell would you give up everything for a man like him?"
He took a step closer, his gaze burning into me.
"You already gave up your position in the Family. You gave up your womb. You handed over the deeds to our territory like they meant nothing!" His voice cracked with a mixture of heartbreak and rage. "Seraphina, you're a disgrace to the Valente name!"
Around us, the murmurs grew louder, the weight of judgment pressing in from every direction. I could feel their stares, their silent verdicts, their curiosity feeding on the collapse of my marriage like it was entertainment. Capos who had kissed my father's ring were watching his bloodline unravel in real time, and not one of them moved to intervene. That was the code. Family business stayed Family business, even when it bled onto the floor in front of a hundred witnesses.
Slowly, I lowered my gaze to the severance papers in my hands.
No one noticed the faint curve at the corner of my lips.
It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. Not sorrowful. Not broken.
Almost amused.
"Seraphina," Nico said, his voice dripping with a faux gentleness that now made my skin crawl. He tugged his left cuff down over his wrist as he spoke, a gesture so practiced it had become invisible to everyone but me. "You can't blame me for this. I'm just a man."
He spread his hands slightly, as if explaining something obvious.
"You had your uterus removed. You can't have children anymore. What choice did I have?"
A dry laugh escaped me, hollow and devoid of warmth.
"You're the one who asked me to do it," I said, my voice calm but cutting. "So we could live a child-free life together. You told me we'd never regret it. You swore that if I gave up my ability to have children, you would stay with me forever."
