He once told me that he would always be my shelter, my protector against the storms of life. That he would guard me for the rest of my days. I believed him. I gave him my body, my heart, my soul. When he asked for a hidden blood-union, one recorded in a falsified Family pact and never sanctioned by his line, I agreed without hesitation. He feared that binding his name to a woman born of nothing would weaken the Falcone standing among the five families.
Every time I found out I was pregnant, Dominic would light up like a child, shouting with excitement that he was going to be a father. He would hold me in his arms, his joy infectious. Afraid that I would suffer, he personally instructed the Family physician to use deep anesthesia, ensuring I wouldn't feel any pain. And every time, he stayed by my side, watching over me as if I were his most precious treasure.
I thought he cared about me. I thought he cared about our baby. But in reality, he was merely making it easier for himself to strangle our child with his own hands, to provide a specimen for his beloved. And I, foolishly, blamed myself. I thought my body was too weak, too incapable of carrying a child to term. I grieved over every stillborn, burdened with guilt, apologizing to him for my failures. Looking back now, I was nothing but a joke.
That night, after returning to the estate, I waited for Dominic to step into the shower. I made the arrangement to end the pregnancy. And I bought passage across the water. Three days from now, I would be gone. When he emerged, his hair still damp, he spoke casually, as if it were of little importance.
"Honey, I'm going overseas in three days. Family business. I'll be tied up for over a month."
A month. Just enough time for his arranged alliance marriage. And his honeymoon. I looked up at him and asked softly, "Dominic, I haven't been feeling well lately. Can you stay? I'd like you to spend more time with me."
His brows furrowed instantly, his voice turning cold. "Honey, we've been together for years. You know how I am. I don't let a woman put herself between me and the work. Be good and wait for me at home. I'll bring you something back when I return."
My last shred of hope crumbled. I lowered my gaze, swallowing my disappointment. Beneath the sheets I pressed the stump of my missing pinky hard against my palm, the way other women reach for a rosary. "You're right. I was being selfish. Go ahead."
Satisfied, Dominic's expression softened. He pushed me down onto the bed, his breath laced with the scent of aged wine as he murmured into my ear.
"Honey, the physician says your body has recovered well. Why don't we make a baby tonight? I really want to watch our child grow up with you."
A wave of bitter irony washed over me. I gently pushed him away. "Not tonight. You've been drinking. It could harm the baby's health."
Knowing how much I cared about this, Dominic didn't suspect a thing. He kissed my forehead before drifting off to sleep. As his breathing steadied, I quietly reached for his jacket. That was when I discovered it. A second phone. One I had never seen before.
My heart pounded as I pressed the power button. The lock screen made my stomach churn. A picture of Dominic and Adriana. Kissing. I tried a password. Adriana's birthday. The screen unlocked. I tapped on their messages. The first thing I saw sent my blood running cold. A photo of one of my stillborn children.
Dominic's message read:
[Adriana, I got the specimen for you. It'll come by chopper this afternoon. Fresh. It won't touch your research data.]
Another message:
[You ran through the last one already? Don't worry. Gemma is carrying again. I'll find a way to bring the labor on early. You'll have a new one soon. My girl works harder than any man in this Family. She's going to be a great doctor one day.]
And another:
[Adriana, when do you come home to Brooklyn? I've kept my wife's place open for you. Gemma is just something to take the edge off.]
My hands trembled as I touched my stomach, tears spilling down my cheeks. This child... should never have come into this world.
I continued scrolling.
Albums filled with pictures of them, together from childhood to now. Tens of thousands of photos, each one captioned with a different love note. Seven years of my hidden blood-union, and he had spent most of it away on "Family business," all of them just excuses to be at her side.
My breath hitched when I checked his saved files. More than a hundred versions of wedding plans. Every detail, large and small, meticulously arranged. All personally planned by Dominic. For her.
