"You don't deserve him. Grayson, Samuel, they're both mine. They always have been, and they always will be!"
"You'll never be worthy of standing by his side, and you sure as hell don't deserve the title of Godfather Rowe's wife!"
My arm was still pressed against the ice-cold display case, a dull ache throbbing through it. Before I could even process her vicious words, Selene suddenly seized my wrist in a death grip and used my own momentum to fling herself backward, crumpling gracefully onto the cashmere rug beside the display.
She curled into herself, her eyes reddening instantly, tears glistening on the verge of spilling. Just like that, she'd transformed into the picture of fragile innocence.
"Lois, I wasn't saying your photos were bad. I just wanted to ask if you could try a different angle to capture the grain on the raw stones... Never mind, I was being presumptuous. Please don't be upset..."
The words had barely left her lips when the door to the private room slammed open. Samuel strode in, took one look at the scene before him, and hurled the custom glass tumbler in his hand to the floor. The sound of shattering glass cut through the air like a scream.
He rushed forward and shoved me aside. Hard. I stumbled back several steps, my spine slamming into the unyielding edge of the jewelry display case. A sharp hiss escaped through my teeth. But he didn't even glance my way. He was already crouching beside Selene, checking her over with painstaking care, his voice tight with worry.
"Selene, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself anywhere?"
"Samuel, I'm fine, really. Please don't blame Lois. I just lost my balance and fell on my own..." Selene tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft and pleading as she defended me, looking more delicate by the second.
"Selene, you're too kind. Don't cover for her. I saw everything." Samuel's expression was glacial as he helped Selene to her feet, handling her as though she were a priceless gemstone that might shatter at the slightest touch.
He tucked her protectively against his chest, then turned. His gaze locked onto me, and the coldness in his eyes drove into my heart like shards of ice.
In five years of marriage, he had never once looked at me like that.
"Lois Simmons, apologize to Selene. Now." His voice was low, each word edged with barely contained fury. "I've been too lenient with you all these years. It's made you reckless. You've gotten so out of line that you're shoving people, throwing tantrums like a child."
"Do you have any idea how important this showcase is to her? If she's injured, if it jeopardizes the jewelry partnerships that follow, can you bear that responsibility?"
His furious eyes bore into me. His gaze swept over the reddening skin on my arm where I'd hit the display case, swept over the pain I was barely holding behind my eyes, and dismissed all of it. As if the bruises on my body and the ache in my chest were beneath his notice.
I watched him shield Selene in his arms, and something inside me sank, degree by degree, until all that remained was cold.
I met his gaze steadily, my voice measured. "The one who owes an apology is Selene. She insulted my mother in front of everyone. She called her useless, said she couldn't even hold on to her own brand. I refuse to swallow that."
"And while we're at it, Samuel, don't you think you owe me an explanation about how my mother's jewelry patents were leaked?"
Something flickered in his eyes. Panic. It vanished almost instantly, swallowed by irritation.
"That was years ago. Why are you still dragging it up? Throwing another tantrum over nothing." He frowned, his tone dripping with impatience. "I promised your mother I'd keep you safe, give you a stable life. But that comes with conditions. You don't hurt Selene. You don't cause problems."
I stared at him, and a bitter laugh escaped me. I was laughing at myself. Five years of misplaced devotion. Five years of blindness, and only now could I see him for what he truly was. In his heart, my mother's injustice, my pain, none of it weighed more than a single tear from Selene Blanc.
The anguish in my chest surged. Days of suppressed anger, frustration, and disappointment crashed over me all at once. The room tilted. My legs gave out, and I fell backward into darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, the sharp sting of antiseptic filled my nostrils. The family's private physician was putting away her instruments. She noticed I was awake and offered a gentle smile.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Rowe. You're expecting. You've always been in excellent health, but during this time, you'll need to take extra care. Avoid stress, keep your emotions steady. No major upsets."
Instinctively, my hand drifted to my abdomen. A tiny life was growing there.
For five years, I had hoped, countless times, for a child with Samuel. A family of our own. But this baby had chosen the worst possible moment to arrive.
My phone buzzed on the pillow beside me. A message from Samuel. Two cold sentences:
"The doctor said you fainted from emotional distress. Nothing serious. Get some rest."
"When you've come to your senses, apologize to Selene, and I'll send someone to bring you back to The Castle in Sicily."
I stared at the words on the screen. The irony was almost poetic. I let out a hollow laugh, powered off the phone, and snuffed out the last ember of hope I'd been foolish enough to keep burning.
Before long, the physician pushed open the door again. Her expression was strained, slightly unnatural. "Mrs. Rowe, the Godfather has arranged an additional examination. He says it's for the sake of you and the baby. Please follow me."
Unease stirred in my chest, but I got up and followed her toward the side wing. I had just rounded the corner of the corridor when a familiar voice rang out behind me, dripping with satisfaction.
"So you're pregnant? Looks like I underestimated you, Lois Simmons."
I turned. Selene's eyes gleamed with the certainty of someone holding every card. She sauntered closer, her voice so thick with mockery it practically dripped from her lips. "Do you know why you never had a child these past five years?"
I looked at her. Said nothing. She didn't need me to respond. She kept going, and every word was a poisoned blade driven straight into my heart.
"Because I told Samuel that your child would compromise his position in Sicily's jewelry world. That it would become his weakness, cost him his best opportunities for expansion."
"Those herbal supplements he handed you every single day, the ones he made sure you took on schedule to 'nourish your blood'? They were contraceptives. He destroyed your chance at motherhood with his own hands. Tell me, isn't that hilarious?"
Selene's eyes were locked on my face, studying every micro-expression, waiting for me to shatter. Waiting for the tears, the screaming, the collapse.
But I just looked at her, and my voice came out steady. "Noted."
I turned to keep walking, even as agony tore through me like a riptide beneath still water. But before I could take a single step, a brutal force slammed into my back.
I had no time to react. My feet slipped out from under me and I fell hard from the raised step beside the hospital bed, crashing to the floor. A violent, twisting pain ripped through my abdomen.
The agony consumed me. I lay on the freezing tile, powerless, watching the bright red stain spread beneath me as my vision flickered and went black.
I lost our baby.
When I walked out of the operating room, I was numb. Cold to the bone. My heart was ash.
I placed the dissolution papers I'd prepared long ago on the bedside table. Without a backward glance, I walked out of the family's private hospital, the place that had been my prison for five years, and took a cab to the airport.
One moment before boarding, my phone buzzed a final time. One last message from Samuel, still laced with that untouchable arrogance:
"I never imagined you'd have the nerve to disrespect Selene like that. Not an ounce of dignity befitting a Godfather's wife. Keep this up, and you'll regret it."
