Isabella POV
The blizzard raged on into the next afternoon, burying the estate deeper in its icy grip. My fever had broken, leaving me weak and hollowed out, but when the summons came from Sofia Falcone, refusal was not an option. A *Matriarch* did not ask; she commanded.
I stepped into Sofia's private sitting room. The air was thick with the scent of espresso, stale cigar smoke, and the cloying sweetness of lilies. Dark walnut paneling and a massive painting of the Pietà loomed over the heavy, antique furniture.
The room was already full. Julian's aunt, Francesca, and Caterina, the wife of another *Capo*, sat on the velvet sofas. In the center of their fawning attention was Livia.
As I entered, the lively chatter died instantly. They offered me curt, dismissive nods before turning their backs, effectively erasing my presence. I stood near the door, a ghost in my own home, while they resumed their enthusiastic discussion about the new mink coat Julian was commissioning to "soothe Livia's fright" from the storm.
Suddenly, Gianna, a young Falcone cousin playing on the rug, looked up with wide, innocent eyes. "Nonna Sofia, why didn't Cousin Julian just marry Livia? He loves her the most."
A dead silence fell over the room. The women exchanged loaded glances. Sofia, sitting in her high-backed armchair like a queen on a throne, reached out and gently squeezed Livia's hand.
"Patience is a virtue, *tesoro mio*," (my treasure) Sofia sighed, her voice dripping with maternal affection. "You've been wronged."
The words were a public execution. In front of the entire female hierarchy of the family, Sofia had just validated Livia as the true victim and branded me the usurper. I kept my face perfectly blank, though my stomach churned with disgust at their twisted sense of honor.
After a few minutes, Sofia dismissed the others with a wave of her hand. "Leave us. I need a word with my grandson's wife."
Once the heavy oak door clicked shut, the grandmotherly warmth vanished from Sofia's face. Her sharp, dark eyes cut into me like obsidian blades.
"A wife's job is to secure the line. To give the family a son," she stated, her voice a harsh, unforgiving rasp. "You have been here two years, Isabella. What have you done? You can't even keep your husband in your bed."
I stood perfectly still, my hands clasped in front of me. She knew exactly why Julian wasn't in my bed, yet the blame was laid entirely at my feet.
"Perhaps," Sofia continued, delivering the ultimate humiliation with a sneer, "you should ask Livia how to be a woman a man desires. She seems to have no trouble."
I didn't defend myself. There was no point in arguing with a woman who would burn the world to protect her bloodline. I simply bowed my head slightly, accepting the lashings in silence. My only value to them was as a breeding mare, and since I had failed, I was nothing.
"You may go," she finally snapped, turning her attention to her rosary beads.
I stepped out into the dim, silent hallway, the thick Persian carpet muffling my footsteps. The air here was cooler, but the suffocating feeling remained.
"Izzy!"
Livia was waiting for me near a tall window overlooking the frozen gardens. She linked her arm through mine with a sickeningly sweet smile, leaning in close.
"He was so worried about me, he stayed by my side all night," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with malice. She casually adjusted her sleeve, making sure I saw the new, glittering diamond bracelet on her wrist. "I heard you had to call for a doctor yourself. How embarrassing."
She paused, waiting for me to shatter. "A smart woman would know when she's not wanted. Why do you keep clinging to a title with no honor?"
The sheer audacity of her words finally snapped the last thread of my restraint. I yanked my arm out of her grasp, turning to face her fully. The feverish weakness in my limbs was replaced by a cold, hard fury.
"If he loves you so much, Livia," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly, icy whisper that echoed in the empty hall. "If he's so desperate to be with you... then why didn't he break the contract with my family three years ago?"
Her smug smile faltered.
I stepped closer, forcing her to look into my eyes. "A man in love would have found a way. Or... was his love for you not strong enough to outweigh what my name, the Rossi name, could give his 'new money' family?"
