I overheard a young nurse at the consultation desk say sweetly to Daniela.
"Mrs. Valente, your husband really adores you. He comes with you every time, and even warms the ultrasound gel himself so you won't feel cold during the checkup."
The surrounding pregnant women looked at her with open admiration. The Don's wife. They thought she was the Don's wife. And why wouldn't they? He stood beside her like a man guarding something precious. He had never once stood beside me that way. Not in nine years.
My hand moved subconsciously to my stomach.
I remembered...
There had been a child here once. A heartbeat inside me that I had spoken to in the dark of the Valente estate when the hallways were empty and the soldiers had changed shifts and no one was listening. A small, impossible thing that had made the blood-bound union feel, for one brief season, like something other than a cage.
On the day of the car accident, the hit that everyone in the Family called an accident but that I knew in my bones was something else, I suffered a miscarriage due to blood loss. I cried while making a video call to Dominic on the encrypted line.
But all I saw was a naked Daniela on the screen, smiling as she said, "Mrs. Valente, your husband lost a game to me, so as punishment, he's currently tied to the bed. Is there something you need from him?"
I said nothing and hung up. My thumb pressed hard against the inside of my ring finger, against the band that was supposed to mean something, against the metal that had become nothing more than a shackle I couldn't remove.
Not even a minute passed before Dominic called back.
Holding a teary-eyed, wronged-looking Daniela in his arms, he exploded at me. "You're so petty and pathetic, Seraphina. Always making trouble!" His voice carried the particular cruelty of a man who has never been told no, who has confused authority with righteousness, who believed that volume alone could make him right.
And then, with disgust in his voice, he added, "You couldn't even hold on to your own baby. What can someone like you possibly do right?"
"Honestly, I wish that truck had finished the job and killed you." The words landed the way a bullet lands. Not with heat. With finality. With the understanding that the man who had sworn a blood oath to protect me had just wished me dead, and meant it, and would not remember saying it by morning.
Snapping back to the present, I was about to take a detour and walk away, to disappear down the corridor before either of them noticed me standing there like a ghost in their perfect picture, but Dominic walked toward me with that cold expression and snapped, "Why are you just standing there like an idiot?"
Startled, I instinctively tried to explain. "I wasn't following you. I really just ran into you by coincidence. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." The words came out before I could stop them. Nine years of conditioning. Nine years of apologizing for existing in a house that was supposed to be mine.
"Wait."
He frowned, and at the sound of that single word, I caught the flicker of jealousy in Daniela's eyes. It was quick, controlled, the way a woman who has survived on performance learns to manage every micro-expression. But I saw it. I had spent nine years learning to read the danger in that woman's face the way soldiers learn to read a room.
She clutched his arm a little tighter and smiled at me sweetly, her hand drifting back to her stomach with choreographed precision. "Mrs. Valente, thank you again for the blood donation. Without you, I'd still be so dizzy today. You saved me and my baby!"
"Dominic, won't you bring Mrs. Valente home with us? Please?" Her voice was silk over a blade. The request sounded like generosity. It was territory. She wanted me in the car. She wanted me to see.
Dominic dotingly tapped the tip of her nose and gently replied, "My sweet angel, whatever you say goes." The Don of the Valente Family. The man who decided which soldiers lived and which ones disappeared. Reduced to a puppet by a woman who placed her hand over her stomach like a shield every time the light shifted.
Since I had to return to the estate to gather my things anyway, I didn't refuse Daniela's "kindness." There were documents I needed. Things hidden in places she hadn't thought to look. A passport she didn't know I still had.
