Tomasso never knew that earlier that afternoon, while he was away, I had hidden a miniature camera inside his study.
It was tucked into a place so carefully concealed that not even his most trusted soldiers would think to search it.
That night, I sat alone in the darkness, staring at the live feed on my phone.
The door opened.
Tomasso walked in.
He stood before the wall covered with Camilla's photographs, reached out, and gently lifted one into his hands.
His fingertips lingered on her smiling face as though she were something too precious to touch.
Then he spoke.
"Camilla..."
"Alessandro didn't leave for overseas today because he wanted to avoid you."
His voice was low.
Tender.
Painfully so.
"Why are your eyes always fixed on him?"
"Why do you insist on carrying his child?"
He lowered his head, letting out a bitter laugh.
"Tonight..."
"Serafina told me she wanted to give me a child of my own."
"For a moment..."
"I was actually moved."
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
"She really is a good woman."
A long silence followed.
Then came the words that shattered whatever was left inside me.
"But..."
"She'll never be you."
"If she could give me a blood-heir..."
"Maybe..."
"I could love her a little more."
"But that's impossible now."
I stared at the screen, my fingers gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.
At last...
I understood everything.
He wanted children.
He longed for a family of his own.
And somewhere inside him...
There truly had been a place for me.
Small.
Fragile.
Conditional.
Yet despite that...
He had willingly buried every possibility.
He had abandoned the chance to have a child with me.
He had buried his own future...
Simply because the woman he loved was Camilla.
Very well.
Tomasso...
If your heart belongs to her so completely...
Then I'll make sure...
She belongs to you.
The next morning, Camilla arrived with an entire convoy of attendants.
Soldiers carried suitcase after suitcase into the Graziano compound.
She wasn't visiting.
She was moving in.
I looked toward the kitchen and froze.
Steam drifted through the doorway.
Tomasso was inside.
In the two years we'd been married...
He had never once entered that kitchen for me.
Not to cook.
Not even to make me a single cup of coffee.
Now...
He stood over the stove himself.
Suddenly, I understood.
Whatever he was making...
It had never been meant for me.
It was for the woman he truly loved.
At breakfast, Camilla picked up a shrimp dumpling with elegant fingers.
She took one small bite before smiling sweetly and holding the rest toward me.
"Sis..."
"Does Tommy really not know you're allergic to shrimp?"
She paused deliberately, her smile widening.
"Well..."
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
"After all..."
"He probably only remembers that I love shrimp."
My fingers tightened around the spoon.
I said nothing.
Across the room, one of the soldiers accompanying her shifted slightly, quietly observing every reaction.
Just then, Tomasso emerged from the kitchen.
"Last dish."
"Shrimp with egg."
He wore thick heat-resistant gloves.
Every movement was careful.
Gentle.
Like someone serving the most important person in the room.
He placed the plate before me.
"Serafina."
"You've always been delicate."
"Eat a little more."
"It's good for your health."
Camilla blinked innocently.
"Tomasso..."
"You didn't actually forget she can't eat shrimp... did you?"
She tilted her head with a playful smile.
"Then again..."
"I suppose that's understandable."
"How well can two people really know each other after such a rushed arranged marriage?"
The smile vanished from Tomasso's face.
His expression stiffened.
He looked at me, guilt flashing through his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Serafina."
"It's my first time cooking, so I..."
Before he could finish, nausea surged violently through me.
I covered my mouth and rushed toward the bathroom.
Behind me, hurried footsteps followed.
"Serafina!"
Tomasso reached me first, gently rubbing my back.
Before I could steady my breathing, Camilla appeared at the doorway.
She leaned lazily against the frame, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
"My, Sis..."
"You look exactly like I did a few months ago."
"Morning sickness was miserable."
She smiled brightly.
"What a shame..."
"That's something you'll never get to experience."
She was about to continue when Tomasso suddenly interrupted.
"Camilla..."
"You suffered that badly from morning sickness?"
The hand resting against my back faltered.
Its warmth suddenly felt uncertain.
As though it could leave me...
And return to her...
At any moment.
"Of course I did."
Camilla pouted dramatically.
"I've sacrificed so much carrying your brother's baby."
"And what do I get?"
"The great Don picks fights with me every day."
Her hand drifted lovingly over her stomach.
"Being pregnant is exhausting."
"So what if I'm a little bad-tempered?"
She huffed.
"Sometimes..."
"I don't even want this baby anymore."
Tomasso's expression changed instantly.
Without thinking, he reached out and caught her hand.
His thumb unconsciously rubbed the wedding ring on his finger.
"Don't say things like that."
"When this baby is born..."
"He'll be the rightful heir to the Graziano Family."
"My brother will owe you everything."
Camilla's face lit up.
She smiled triumphantly before naturally leaning against Tomasso's chest.
"Serafina..."
"You're so lucky."
"Tommy is far more considerate than Alessandro has ever been."
Tomasso's ears flushed red.
Almost awkwardly, he steadied her shoulders.
"You're in the final months now."
"You have to be careful."
Just then, Camilla met my eyes.
A strange smile flickered across her face.
The next second, she clutched her stomach and cried out.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
Her hand had reached her belly before the pain even appeared on her face.
Tomasso didn't notice.
He panicked immediately.
"Camilla!"
Without a second thought, he swept her into his arms.
As he hurried toward the door, he turned back only long enough to say,
"Serafina."
"I'm taking Camilla to the doctor."
I didn't answer.
I simply stood there.
The ache inside my chest spread little by little until it became impossible to breathe.
Silent tears slipped from my eyes and disappeared into the sink below.
Tomasso...
You're not even trying to hide it anymore.
The moment my parents learned Camilla wasn't feeling well, they rushed over.
The old Don's cane echoed sharply across the marble floor as he hurried inside with my mother close behind.
The entire household revolved around Camilla.
They fussed over her.
Comforted her.
Asked if she had eaten.
Asked whether she was frightened.
Asked if she needed anything at all.
Not once...
Not a single time...
Did either of them ask how I was.
Instead, they turned to Tomasso and reminded us again and again to take good care of Camilla.
Before leaving, they even arranged for the most expensive private nurse the Family could hire...
Solely to look after her.
