Isabella POV
"A man in love would have found a way..."
Livia's smug smile didn't just falter; it shattered. Her face drained of color, her lips parting but finding no words to counter the brutal truth. I didn't wait for her to recover. Leaning slightly on Lucia's arm, I turned and walked away.
The thick Persian carpet swallowed our footsteps, leaving only a heavy, suffocating silence in our wake. There was no thrill of victory in my chest, only a hollow, freezing ache. Winning a verbal spar meant nothing. As long as I bore the name Falcone, I was trapped in their twisted game, a ghost haunting my own life.
To avoid running into anyone else, Lucia guided me through the estate's winter garden. The glass conservatory was humid, smelling of damp earth and decaying palm leaves. As we navigated the wet stone path, hushed voices drifted from behind a cluster of ferns. Aunt Francesca and Caterina.
"Che dote ha portato? Niente." *(What dowry did she bring? Nothing.)* Francesca's harsh Sicilian dialect dripped with disdain. "Sofia is wise to keep her away from the family accounts. Who knows if she'd siphon our money to her dying mother?"
Caterina let out a cruel laugh. "Julian is too honorable. He actually married her. Poor Livia, she should have been the mistress of this house."
Lucia trembled with rage beside me, her hands balling into fists. But I just felt a profound, exhausting numbness. I placed a calming hand on Lucia's arm and silently led her toward the exit. The last pathetic illusion of finding a family here was dead.
Late that night, the feverish chill kept me awake. I stood by the window of my dark suite, looking out at the courtyard. Across the frozen lawn, the lights in Julian's private office were still burning. It was the sanctuary of his power as a *Caporegime*, the vault of the family's illicit ledgers and the very heart of their *Omertà*.
Shortly after our wedding, I had tried to bring him a cup of coffee there. A *Soldier* had blocked my path with dead eyes, and Julian had later reprimanded me coldly: *Never go near that door. There is nothing there that concerns you.*
Now, through the sheer curtains of that forbidden room, two silhouettes were perfectly projected against the glass. They were locked in a desperate, passionate embrace. Julian and Livia.
My blood turned to ice, followed instantly by a wave of pure disgust. He wasn't just a faithless husband; he was a reckless, arrogant fool who let his mistress defile the family's most guarded secrets. My last shred of respect for him evaporated into the cold night air.
The soft click of the bedroom door drew my attention. Lucia stepped in, carrying a silver tray. On it sat a mug of spiced mulled wine—a Sicilian remedy I had prepared for Julian every winter night since we married. He had never once taken a sip.
"Signora," Lucia whispered, her eyes downcast. "Mr. Julian... he didn't drink it."
I looked at the dark red liquid, the steam long gone. "Pour it out, Lucia," I said, my voice steady and absolute. "And never prepare it again."
Lucia's head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock at the finality in my tone. But she nodded, understanding that a line had just been permanently crossed.
I sat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of my nose against a throbbing headache as Lucia handed me a cup of bitter herbal medicine.
Before the rim could touch my lips, the heavy oak door of my suite was shoved open without a single knock.
Julian strode in, his presence instantly sucking the air from the room. But it was the person trailing behind him that made my grip tighten on the porcelain cup.
Livia. She was draped in a luxurious, crimson silk robe, her hair artfully tousled as if she had just rolled out of the master bed. She looked around my sanctuary, her eyes landing on my pale, exhausted face. A sickeningly sweet, triumphant smile stretched across her lips.
"Oh, Isabella," Livia cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she stepped further into my private quarters. "I heard you were still unwell. Julian was so worried about you all night, so we decided to come check on you together."
