Aria POV:
The mention of the pregnancy struck my chest with the force of a physical blow, a cold weight that settled deep in my veins.
Petra scrambled to her feet, feigning a frantic dash for the front door, crying out that she was going to end it all rather than ruin his life.
"No!" Silas yelled, his voice cracking with a panic I had not heard in years.
I stepped forward to block his path. I had to have him to look at me, needed him to explain the six years of hell he had put me through for this woman.
Silas didn't even hesitate.
He raised both hands and violently shoved me backward with a force that jarred my bones.
My heels caught on the edge of the Persian rug, and I went flying toward the massive stone fireplace.
I crashed onto the marble floor, my shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. My head whipped back, and the sharp, unforgiving stone edge of the fireplace hearth caught me just below the jawline.
A sharp, searing pain sliced across the side of my neck, and the air vanished from my lungs.
I gasped, bringing my hand to my skin, and my fingers came away covered in thick, warm blood.
I had narrowly missed the shattered glass of the ruined wedding portrait, but the jagged stone had done more than enough damage.
"You are toxic, Aria!" Silas shouted, standing over me without a single ounce of pity in his cold eyes. "Petra suffers from severe depression because of your constant shadow!"
My vision started to blur, the edges of the room turning dark as my blood pooled on the white marble.
"If anything happens to my new family," Silas warned, his voice dropping to a dangerous, guttural rumble that spoke of his Cosa Nostra origins, "I will enact a Vendetta on you that will make the last six years look like a joke."
I tried to speak, to tell him I was bleeding out on his floor, but my throat wouldn't work.
The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me was Silas barking orders at Paulie.
"Dump her at a low-profile civilian clinic. Scrub this floor clean immediately-I don't want Petra distressed by the sight of blood."
I woke up to the acrid smell of cheap bleach and stale hospital food.
I was lying on a stiff cot in a crowded, noisy ward, a rough, scratchy bandage taped to my neck.
Two nurses were standing near the privacy curtain, speaking in hushed tones.
"Did you see the woman in the VIP wing?" one nurse whispered. "Her husband rented out the entire floor just because she had a mild panic attack."
"Yeah," the other replied. "Treating her like royalty. Meanwhile, the guys who dropped this one off didn't even leave a name for the billing."
I closed my eyes, a single tear slipping down my cheek and soaking into the thin, paper-like pillow.
He had treated his mistress like a queen, and discarded his bleeding wife like so much refuse.
The curtain was suddenly ripped open, the metal rings screeching against the rod.
Silas stormed into my ward with the fury of a cornered Capo.
His face was flushed red, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his ear.
"You broke Omerta," he hissed, leaning over my bed, his presence a suffocating weight.
I turned my head away, the movement pulling painfully at my stitches.
"I don't know what you are talking about," I rasped, my throat completely dry.
Silas shoved a phone directly into my face.
"Look at it!" he demanded.
The screen showed a viral social media post, exposing his faked mafia hit and labeling Petra as a homewrecking mistress.
The comment section was a warzone, tearing apart his pristine, legitimate business facade piece by piece.
"I didn't do this," I said, staring blankly at the glowing screen.
"You are a manipulative snake," Silas spat, pulling the phone back and glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You always play the victim."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a cruel, mocking whisper.
"You lost our baby six years ago because you were crazy and hysterical back then, just like you are now."
The room spun around me.
He was weaponizing the darkest, most agonizing memory of my life to protect the woman who had destroyed it.
I was suddenly back in that old apartment, opening the bedroom door to find him and Petra tangled in our sheets.
I remembered screaming, and I remembered Silas shoving me out of the way to protect her dignity over my safety.
I remembered falling down the stairs, the blinding, world-ending pain, and waking up to the doctor telling me my child was gone forever.
I stared at the man leaning over my hospital bed, his face twisted into a cruel sneer as he prepared his next threat, and saw, for the first time, the man he had always been.
