Sienna POV
In my mind’s eye, I was still staring at the red velvet lining of my jewelry box.
It was empty.
The diamond earrings my grandmother left me, the pearl necklace from my sixteenth birthday, even the gold bracelet Luca gave me when he was still pretending to be a man worthy of the name—all gone.
I had pawned them at a shop three towns over to ensure no one recognized the family crest.
The cash was already in the hospital administrator's safe, securing the Don’s post-op care.
"Sienna?"
The voice snapped me back to reality, and I jumped.
Nonna Rosa stood in the doorway of the hospital room.
She looked smaller than she ever had.
The stroke had taken half of Don Carlo’s strength, but the betrayal had taken all of hers.
She walked to the small table where I had set my purse, her gaze drifting to my bare wrists.
Then her eyes lifted to my ears, missing the diamonds I hadn’t taken off in years.
"Where are they?" she asked, her voice raspy with exhaustion.
I instinctively covered my wrist.
"I left them at home, Nonna. For safety."
She shook her head slowly.
She moved closer, her weathered hands trembling as she reached out to graze my earlobe.
"You sold them," she said, not as a question, but as a verdict. "To pay for Carlo."
I didn't deny it.
There was no point in lying to a woman who had spent forty years decoding the silences of dangerous men.
"Luca took the cash," I said softly. "But he could not take my duty."
Nonna’s eyes filled with tears, though she refused to let them fall.
She turned toward the bed where Don Carlo slept, a web of tubes and wires tethering the old lion to the earth.
"My son is a thief," she whispered, the words tasting of ash. "A coward who leaves his father to die and his wife to beg."
"I did not beg," I said, my voice hardening. "I handled it."
Nonna turned back to me.
The grief in her eyes was replaced by something steely.
Something ancient.
She took my face in her hands, her grip surprisingly strong.
"You are not a Moretti anymore," she said fiercely. "And you are not just a Vitiello by marriage. You are blood."
She kissed my forehead.
It felt less like a benediction and more like a coronation.
"Luca is dead to us," she pronounced. "If he walks through that door, I will not see a son. I will see a stranger."
I felt a twist in my chest.
It wasn't sorrow.
It was the heavy click of a lock falling into place.
I had married into this family for protection, craving the aura of power that surrounded the Don.
I thought I had lost it all when Luca ran.
But looking at Nonna, I realized I hadn't lost anything.
I had simply traded a weak husband for a kingdom.
I looked at the sleeping Don.
I looked at the fierce mother standing before me.
"I am staying," I said. "For Mia. And for you."
Nonna nodded.
"Good. Because everything that was his is now yours."
