The Five Graves He Built for Love

In the seven years of my hidden blood-union, I had conceived five children. Each one was stillborn.

Dominic Falcone seemed heartbroken over my condition and brought in the Family's own physician to watch my diet, sparing no tribute. He reassured me, time and time again, that we would eventually have a healthy child together.

The day I found out I was pregnant again, my heart overflowed with joy. I went to share the good news with Dominic, eager to see his face when he heard it. Instead, I overheard him and his oldest confidant, Marco Rizzo, through the half-open door of a private room at the back of the social club.

"You killed Gemma Vaccaro's five children just to give Adriana Colombo specimens for her experiments? Are you insane? Those were your own blood."

Dominic's voice stayed level, cold as marble, as though the matter had nothing to do with him at all.

"Adriana lives for that research. I know nothing about medicine. The most I can do is stand behind her and give her whatever she needs."

Marco's voice carried disbelief, and under it, a low fury. "But those were your own children. How could you be so cruel?"

Dominic only laughed, quiet and unbothered. "Does it matter? The pact between Gemma and me is a forgery. Nothing in it was ever sanctioned by my line. Any child she bore would be nameless, unacknowledged, unwanted. What does it matter whether they lived or died? My wife can only be Adriana."

In that moment, everything I had believed in shattered. The union I had cherished was nothing but a fraud drawn up on false paper. The man I had loved with my whole heart was nothing more than a monster wearing a man's skin. And since this was the truth, there was no longer any need for illusions.

——

Marco's voice was heavy. "If Adriana is the only one you love, why did you ever bind Gemma to you? Why let her carry your children?"

Dominic's mouth curved. "Because Adriana wanted to study across the sea. And I am a man like any other, with certain needs. Gemma was untouched when I took her, pure, easy to draw into a hidden pact. And keeping her close meant she wouldn't wander off and bring back some filth I didn't want."

He paused, then went on with a chilling ease. "As for the children, I don't like taking precautions, and she was so desperate to be a mother. I thought, why not let her have them, for something to do? I never intended to let a single one draw breath."

Marco's face darkened. "But you let her live in blissful ignorance for seven whole years. You let her carry and lose five children. And now you throw her away as if she never mattered. Gemma loves you to the bone, Dominic. Do you really think she survives this?"

Dominic waved him off, impatient. "Enough. She was a poor country girl who got lucky, living in silk because of me. I gave her more than she could ever have dreamed."

Then, almost pleased with himself, he added, "Three days from now, Adriana and I sail for our wedding across the sea. See that you come. Drink to our happiness."

Marco let out a long breath. "Dominic, don't blame me for saying it. A man who wounds the one who truly loves him, one day you'll regret it."

Dominic scoffed. "As long as I marry Adriana in grand style, I won't regret a damn thing, not if it kills me. Keep your sentiment to yourself."

Marco shook his head, worn out. There was nothing left to say.

The joy that had filled my heart only moments before evaporated, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. I stood frozen where I was, my body cold as ice, my thumb pressing the stump of my missing pinky into my palm until it hurt, the way another woman might grip a rosary. Then Dominic turned and saw me. My tear-streaked face seemed to startle him. Panic flashed through his eyes, and he crossed the room toward me.

"Gemma. When did you come? Why are you crying like this?"

His voice held traces of concern, even heartbreak.

I wiped my tears quickly and forced a smile. "It's nothing. My lashes weren't set right and one got into my eye. I'm hopeless with any of it."

Dominic let out a relieved breath and pulled me into his arms. He stroked my hair, gentle, and murmured, "Seeing you cry breaks my heart. Don't wear those things anymore, all right? My wife is already the most beautiful woman in the world. Come now. Let's go home."

His words were sweet as ever, thick with tenderness. But they no longer held any warmth for me.

Once, I had adored him, trusted him. When I first came under the Falcone name, still green, I had been humiliated and pushed around by men above me in the ranks. It was Dominic who had come like a hero, standing between me and them, making me feel safe. But now I knew the truth. The man I loved was nothing more than a cold-blooded executioner. And I was nothing more than a fool who had loved him blindly.