My hand froze on the doorknob. For a long moment, I just stood there, my jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. The sound of their laughter echoed in my ears, but eventually, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The shift was immediate. The room fell silent as if someone had cut the sound entirely.
One of his associates looked up, startled, before quickly forcing a smile. "Well, look who's here. Mrs. Falcone."
I didn't even spare him a glance. My eyes went straight to Dante. "I'm here to take you home."
Dante slowly pushed himself to his feet. His face was unreadable, a blank mask that gave nothing away. He staggered slightly as he walked toward me, then casually draped his arm over my shoulders, leaning into me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't say a word, didn't acknowledge me beyond using me as support.
The weight of him pressed directly against my injured shoulder. Pain flared instantly, sharp and biting, but I kept my expression steady.
I turned, ready to leave, when a voice suddenly cut through the heavy silence.
"Mr. Falcone."
Liliana stood just inside the doorway, her figure framed by the light behind her. "If you were going to have your wife pick you up, why did you message me?"
I looked at her then. Her face was scrunched, her brows drawn together as if she were deeply hurt. Her voice trembled just enough to make it convincing. "You didn't have to go this far just to humiliate me."
She smoothed the edge of her lower lip with her thumbnail, the motion barely visible, as though she were settling into the shape of whatever wound she'd chosen to perform.
Dante's expression changed in an instant. The dull haze in his eyes vanished, replaced by sharp, blazing anger.
He turned on his associates. "Who used my phone to message her?"
No one answered.
"I said, who did it?" His voice rose, cutting through the room like a whip.
The silence grew suffocating. No one dared to speak, no one even shifted in their seats. The two soldiers near the door had straightened without making a sound.
Dante looked like he was on the verge of exploding. "If any of you think this kind of prank is funny, don't say I didn't warn you. Stay the hell away from Liliana."
Liliana stood frozen, her cheeks flushed red, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. For a second, it looked like she might say something, but instead, she turned abruptly and rushed out, barely holding herself together.
Dante didn't hesitate. Despite the alcohol in his system, despite the way he could barely keep his balance, he let go of me immediately and stumbled after her.
"Liliana, don't be upset… wait, please. Just wait."
His voice faded as he followed her down the hallway.
I stood there, watching their figures disappear from view. Strangely, I didn't feel much of anything. No anger, no heartbreak, not even disappointment. Maybe it was because, deep down, I had always known this was how it would be. The moment someone else called, I would be the one he let go of without a second thought.
After he left, the room slowly came back to life. At first, the voices were low, hesitant, but it didn't take long for them to return to normal.
"Jesus, I've never seen him that angry before."
"Think he's serious about her this time?"
"Obviously. Anyone can see it. People who throw themselves at him just come off cheap."
Another round of laughter followed, louder this time, more careless.
They didn't bother lowering their voices. There was no need. Dante didn't care about me, so why should they? I was the heir's wife, and not a man in that room flinched when they laughed at my name. That told me everything about what the Falcone name was worth when the Falcone heir had already turned his back.
The weight he had placed on me earlier had aggravated my already fractured shoulder. The pain pulsed steadily now, spreading down my arm. I lifted my hand and pressed gently against it, trying to steady myself as I prepared to leave.
Then I heard a voice behind me.
"Adriana."
I turned to see Luca standing there.
His expression was tight, his jaw set as if he were holding something back, something he didn't want to say out loud. "Let me drive you home."
He must have been there the entire time. He had seen everything, heard everything, from beginning to end.
I didn't know what he thought about any of it. I wasn't sure I cared anymore.
Luca had always been there, Dante's closest friend, the consigliere-bred ally who moved between the Valente outfit and the Falcone inner circle like a man who belonged in both rooms. From the moment I fell for Dante, Luca had been at his side, witnessing every step of it, every humiliating moment I had tried and failed to hide. There was no point pretending now.
I said nothing, just followed him out.
