Bianca stumbled back to the compound and packed her things like a marionette, every movement hollow and mechanical.
All she wanted was to leave this place that had given her both boundless joy and unbearable pain, and never come back.
But the moment she reached the front door, two soldiers seized her arms and forced her into the back of a black sedan.
Bianca fought with everything she had.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!"
She was no match for them. They dragged her through the hospital's service entrance and threw her to the ground in a private corridor that smelled of bleach and money.
Every bone in her body screamed on impact. She forced herself to lift her head, and there stood Dante, his face dark as a storm. The signet ring on his thumb was perfectly still.
He stared down at her, his voice cutting through the sterile air.
"Satisfied now?"
"How did I end up with a wife this vicious? You'll stop at nothing to get rid of Viviana. Aren't you afraid of what's coming for you?"
Bianca frowned, unable to understand what he was talking about.
Dante caught the confusion in her eyes and scoffed.
"Don't tell me you didn't know Viviana has a clotting disorder."
"You heartless woman. You deliberately scratched her wrist underwater. She's still bleeding and they can't stop it."
"You're a lawyer, Bianca. Don't you know that killing someone means paying with your life?"
Bianca rushed to defend herself.
"How could I have scratched her? Have you forgotten? I can't even—"
Dante cut her off before she could finish, impatience carved into every line of his face.
"Viviana got hurt because of you. You're going to take responsibility."
"Take her in. Draw her blood. However much Viviana lost, that's how much comes out of her."
A deafening buzz filled Bianca's skull. She never imagined Dante could be this unhinged.
Her chest caved inward, as though something had clamped down on her lungs and refused to let go.
The soldiers closed in. Bianca thrashed against their grip.
"Dante, this is illegal!"
"You can't do this to me!"
Dante walked over and crouched in front of her. His fingers seized her chin, tilting her face up. His eyes were pure malice. This close, he didn't look like a husband. He looked like a man deciding whether to let someone live.
"Now you want to talk to me about the law?"
"Why didn't you think about consequences when you were hurting Viviana?"
"Take her in."
They dragged her into the operating room. She fought every inch of the way, and none of it mattered.
The needle slid into her vein, cold as ice, and the pain tore through her as though it had pierced her heart.
She felt her blood leaving her body. And with it, the last trace of love she had ever held for Dante Vitale.
She told herself to endure it. He wouldn't actually let her die. He was the Don. Even he answered to something, even if it was only the inconvenience of a dead wife and the questions that followed.
But the minutes crawled by, and no order came from outside to stop.
Bianca felt herself being hollowed out. Her body grew so weak she couldn't even keep her eyes open. Somewhere beyond the door, she could hear the low murmur of men who obeyed without asking, and the silence of a hospital wing that had been cleared for a man who owned the building.
A bitter ache rose in her chest.
Was she really going to die here today?
She wasn't ready. She had been so close to starting over.
Meanwhile, in the hospital corridor, a doctor stood before Dante, sweat dripping from his forehead. Two soldiers flanked the hallway behind them, arms folded, watching nothing and everything.
"Don Vitale, your wife has already had 1500cc drawn. She's at her absolute limit. If we continue, something will go very wrong."
Dante barely glanced at him.
"How's Viviana?"
The doctor hesitated, stammering.
"Miss Caruso, her wound is quite deep. She's still in emergency treatment."
Under Dante's withering stare, the doctor wiped his brow and forced the words out, his voice shaking.
"But rest assured, Miss Caruso is no longer in critical danger."
Only then did the edge in Dante's gaze soften, just barely. His thumb moved once against the signet ring, then stopped again.
The doctor ventured carefully.
"Then... your wife..."
Dante considered this for a moment, his tone flat.
"Keep going. Draw the full 2000cc."
"If I don't teach her a lesson this time, there's no telling what she'll do to Viviana next."
The doctor opened his mouth to protest, but under the weight of Dante's stare, the words died in his throat. In this city, this hospital ran because the Vitale Family allowed it to run. The man swallowed and walked back toward the operating room.
Bianca woke in a hospital bed.
She was so weak she couldn't sit up.
She reached for her phone to call her mother and knocked over the glass of water on the nightstand.
A familiar hand appeared, offering her a cup of warm water.
Bianca forced her eyes open. Dante's face filled her vision, inches away. He looked rested. He looked like a man who had slept well while she bled.
He propped her up and brought the cup to her lips.
"I know you're still upset, but you went too far yesterday."
"If I didn't teach you a lesson, how would I face Viviana?"
"Come on, don't be angry. I'll take you to visit your parents in a couple of days. That should make up for it, right?"
Bianca listened to his magnanimous tone and, for the first time, felt a wave of pure disgust at herself.
How pathetically small had she made herself, that Dante Vitale believed a visit to her parents was a grand enough favor to offer? Grand enough to cancel out having 2000cc of blood ripped from her body.
When she didn't respond, Dante took her silence for surrender. He smiled and ruffled her hair.
"I knew my Bianca would be a good girl."
"The person you should really be thanking is Viviana. She knew perfectly well you scratched her on purpose, and she still chose not to press charges."
"So to show your gratitude, don't you think you should hand over all your professional contacts and resources at the firm to her?"
