I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, glaring up at her. "You're ten feet away. Don't flatter yourself."
Dominic's hand clamped around my arm like iron. He yanked me down, dragging me to my knees. The marble was cold through the fabric. Somewhere behind us, a soldier shifted his weight but said nothing. No one ever said anything.
"You want to act like trash?" he hissed, eyes flat and soulless. "Then get on the fucking floor where trash belongs." His face was inches from mine. "Apologize," he said, voice trembling with rage. "Right fucking now. Or I'll make you lick that vomit off the tile like the dog you're acting like."
"You should've killed me too, Dominic. Because now? I have nothing left to lose."
But Valentina whimpered behind him, clutching her stomach. "Dominic, I feel dizzy… I think it's the smell. I can't… I think I'm gonna faint."
Without another word, he ran to her and swooped her into his arms like I didn't exist.
"Clean that up!" he barked over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway with his real family.
His mother hissed at me as she followed, the pearls at her throat catching the light as she turned.
I wiped my face, cleaned up the mess like a good little wife, then went upstairs.
Our bedroom looked like a crime scene.
Five years I'd slept beside that man. Trusted him. Loved him.
I sat on the bed and pulled open a drawer. Inside was a sealed envelope, the resignation form I'd written weeks ago, back when I still believed in the future. When I thought giving birth meant stepping away from the Family's operations and building something peaceful.
Now I had nothing but fire left.
I packed the form with the upcoming divorce papers and began tearing down the photos on the wall. Our wedding at the cathedral, the trip to the Amalfi Coast, our first night in the compound. All lies. All poisoned. I threw every necklace, every bracelet, every ring he ever gave me into a box.
That's when the door opened.
Dominic stepped inside and froze.
"What the hell's going on?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
I didn't even flinch. "I don't want any of it. I'm giving them away."
"Is this about what happened downstairs?" he asked, stepping closer. "I didn't mean to lose it. I'll get you better gifts. I just… I need you to try with Valentina. She's my friend and trusted household coordinator."
I looked up at him. "Okay."
"She's staying, Sofia. Like it or not. I'll tell her to come up and smooth things over."
He kissed my cheek, because I wouldn't give him my lips, and walked out like everything was solved.
Ten minutes later, Valentina strutted into my room.
She looked around like she already owned the place. Her hand rested flat against her stomach, casual and deliberate, the way it always did when she was about to say something calculated.
"Good. Get all your crap out. I'll be moving in soon."
I didn't look up. "Take it all. I won't be here long."
She laughed, smug and triumphant. "Dominic told me everything. Want to hear a little secret I've kept for four years? My daughter is his. I was the other woman… but not anymore. I'm done playing mistress. I'm carrying his son now, so guess what? He doesn't need you. He gave you a chance, but you blew it and got pregnant with a girl. So, yeah… sorry your baby girl died. But she was never part of the plan."
I sat down on the bed, quiet. "I see you're proud. Enjoy it. If my pain makes you happy, soak it in."
Her smile faltered. She stared at me. "Why aren't you mad? You should be breaking things! Screaming!" she hissed. "Dominic did this to you because I asked him to!"
I met her gaze, steady. "Then congrats. You win. He's all yours."
She snapped. "You pathetic bitch!" she screamed and lunged for me, grabbing my wrist.
"Get your hands off me," I warned.
But she yanked harder and dragged me toward the hallway. Then she screamed.
"Sofia, no—!"
And threw herself down the stairs. I heard the thud, the scream, the crash. Then came running footsteps.
Dominic. His mother. His daughter.
They froze at the bottom of the staircase, Valentina sprawled in a pool of blood, unmoving.
Dominic's eyes lifted to mine, red and wild. "What the fuck did you do?!"
I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, my hand still gripping the rail, heart pounding like a war drum. Valentina's body was crumpled at the bottom, silent, unmoving. It wasn't the fall that broke me. It was Lucia's scream.
"Mommy!"
Her tiny hands were shaking her, sobbing so hard her body trembled.
Then Dominic turned to me. Those cold black eyes, the ones that used to promise protection, were now a loaded gun aimed at my throat.
"If she dies or the baby, you better pray hell takes you in fast," he said, voice like ice cracking. Then he picked her up like some hero in a fucked-up story, Lucia clutching his side, sobbing.
His mother didn't spare a second before spitting at me. "Rot in hell, you cursed whore!!!"
No one asked me what happened. No one even looked me in the eye. That's the power Valentina had. She snapped her fingers and they all saw me as the villain.
I stayed there. On the stairs. Frozen.
Until two of Dominic's soldiers barged in like I was a damn prisoner of war. They didn't say a word. Just grabbed me, yanked my arms behind my back and dragged me out like trash.
"What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!" I screamed.
But screaming means nothing when you're married to the devil.
They shoved me into one of Dominic's black SUVs, the kind used to dump bodies in the river. And when we pulled up, I realized we were at his private clinic, the one tucked behind a Family-owned pharmacy on the waterfront, where they cover up his crimes with cash and silence.
The second I was hauled inside, Dominic was there.
"Dominic! What is this? I didn't touch her. I swear—"
The slap came so fast my head snapped sideways. Metallic warmth filled my mouth. Blood.
He leaned in, eyes blazing with hatred. "I'm done playing games with you. You'll donate your blood to Valentina. You pushed her, now you'll save her."
I coughed, wiped my lip, and glared up at him with every last piece of pride I had left. "I didn't push her. And she's not getting a drop from me."
That was the last straw.
His hand was around my throat in a flash, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I clawed at him, wheezing, desperate. My fingers scraped uselessly at his knuckles. The fluorescent lights above blurred and swam. Somewhere past the roaring in my ears, the doctor's instruments rattled on a steel tray.
"Breathe… I—Dominic—please—" I gasped, legs kicking.
"Enough, Mr. Castellano!" the doctor shouted. "She'll die!"
