The moment he heard her, Dante's entire demeanor shifted. His body tensed, his expression turning serious and focused in an instant. "Serafina, don't worry," he said gently, his voice softening in a way I hadn't heard in a long time. "Take your time and tell me what's wrong."
On the other end, Serafina sobbed pitifully, her breathing uneven. "My stomach hurts… I want to go to the hospital, but I got on the wrong train… I don't even know where I am now…" Her voice sounded fragile, helpless, as if she might break at any moment.
Dante frowned deeply, concern etched across his face. "Why didn't you call me when you were heading to the hospital?" he asked, his tone carrying a hint of reproach, though it was gentle. "Didn't we agree that I'd have one of the crew drive you there?"
Serafina hesitated, her voice faltering as she spoke. "I… I was stupid again today and upset Bianca… I didn't want to bother you two…" She sounded guilty, as if she was trying to be considerate, even while asking for help.
Dante's expression grew even more serious. "Serafina, you're my only sister," he said firmly, every word filled with unquestioned priority. "No one's matters more than yours." He didn't even glance at me as he spoke. The two soldiers stationed outside the bedroom door would have heard every word through the gap. By morning it would move through the house like gospel. "Send me your location. I'll come pick you up right now."
"No!" Serafina protested quickly. "Dante, I can find the hospital myself, really!" Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she added in a lighter tone, "Don't forget, today is Bianca's ovulation day. Stay with her and maybe you'll get a sweet little niece soon!"
Dante chuckled softly at her words, completely at ease. "Silly girl," he said indulgently. "It's not like doing it once guarantees anything. Your situation is more urgent. Send me your location now."
After hanging up, he finally looked at me again, though his gaze carried a trace of reproach. "Did you hear that?" he said. "Serafina cares about you so much, yet you're always so suspicious of her." He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand without hesitation. "I'll take her to the hospital and bring you back an ice pack."
He turned and headed for the door in a hurry, his steps quick and decisive.
"Dante, wait a second," I called out, my voice calm but firm.
He stopped, but only for a moment. His patience seemed to snap completely this time. He turned back with visible frustration. "Bianca, when will you stop this?" he said sharply. "This is about two lives. Don't let your jealousy go too far!"
I didn't argue with him. There was no point. Instead, I quietly walked to the closet and reached into the overcoat he had worn a few days ago. From the inner pocket, I pulled out a card and held it out to him.
"Serafina's insurance card," I said simply. "Don't forget it."
She couldn't register at the hospital on her own, so the card had always been with Dante. He looked at me, clearly taken aback, as if he hadn't expected me to remember something like this at a time like this.
For a brief moment, he hesitated. His hand hovered near his signet ring but didn't turn it. Then he reached out and took the card from my hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice softer than before.
It seemed like he wanted to say something more, perhaps to explain, perhaps to reassure me. But I didn't give him the chance. "Take care," I said gently, cutting him off before he could speak.
I lifted my hand and adjusted his collar, smoothing out the fabric just like I had done countless times before whenever he left the estate. The gesture was familiar, almost habitual. But this time, there was a quiet finality behind it. I knew, deep down, that this would be the last time I did this for him.
He looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my face as if something flickered in his eyes, something uncertain and fleeting. Then, suddenly, he reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into his chest.
"Bianca," he said in a low voice, holding me just a little tighter than usual. "I'll be back soon. Wait for me."
I didn't wait for him. After hesitating for only a moment, I sent a message to a consigliere-linked attorney I'd kept in my contacts for longer than I cared to admit, asking about the process of filing for a sanctioned severance and what I should prepare. I pressed my thumbnail into the inside of my wrist until the skin paled, held it there while the message went through, then released. An unexpected sense of calm settled over me. Without overthinking it, I turned off the lights and went to bed early, as if ending the day sooner could also end everything weighing on me. Beyond the bedroom walls, the estate was quiet. Somewhere past the gate, an engine turned over and pulled away into the night.
