When Serena left the cab and returned to the Romano villa, she barely had the strength to keep her steps steady.
Inside, Isabella was sprawled across the leather couch in a silk robe—Serena’s robe, stolen from her wardrobe. A jeweled necklace glittered against her pale skin, one Luca had once pressed into Serena’s palm after a successful shipment.
The moment Isabella spotted her, a mocking smile curved her lips.
“Back so soon? You look like hell,” she said sweetly, standing with deliberate slowness. Her hand rose to tilt Serena’s chin, nails grazing her skin.
“Look at you—white as a corpse. People will think you’re halfway to the grave.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice until her breath tickled Serena’s ear. “See this necklace? He fastened it himself. Said it looked better on me. Just like the rest of him.”
The words were poison. Serena’s hand shot up, and the crack of her palm against Isabella’s cheek echoed through the hall.
“Know your place,” Serena hissed. “I’m Luca’s wife. You’re nothing but the woman he sneaks around with. Push me further, and I’ll go public. The world will know you’re nothing but a thief who clawed her way into another woman’s bed.”
Isabella’s face burned, but her smile never faltered. Instead, her knees buckled, and she crumpled dramatically to the floor just as footsteps echoed down the corridor.
“Serena, stop!” she gasped, tears spilling on command. “I never should have come here—I’ll leave, I swear! I’d rather die than ruin your marriage!”
Before Serena could react, Luca’s shadow loomed. He was at Isabella’s side in an instant, catching her before she “collapsed.”
“Isabella,” he said urgently, “I invited you here. If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with me.”
Serena’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. The words weren’t for her. They never were.
“Apologize to her,” Luca snapped, his eyes cold as steel.
“I did nothing wrong,” Serena answered, her voice low but steady. “Tell me, Luca—aren’t you even curious where I was last night?”
“Did you—” he began, a frown flickering.
“Aren’t you wondering—”
“I don’t care where you were,” he cut her off harshly. “What I care about is you laying hands on Isabella. Until you apologize, you’re stripped of your duties. You’ll stay confined here until you admit your mistake.”
For Luca, authority was everything. He thought taking her rank as underboss was the harshest punishment. What he didn’t realize was that Serena had only ever taken on the burden to protect him, to make his world lighter.
Her chest hollowed out, but her face remained calm. Luca turned away, carrying Isabella with him. Before leaving, he barked to the staff:
“Until she apologizes, she doesn’t eat.”
---
The days blurred.
Three times a day, the maid came with a tray—then whisked it away untouched when Serena refused to bow her head. She survived on water alone, her body weakening, but her spirit unbroken.
Isabella’s messages filled her phone. Photos of her wearing Serena’s dresses. A clip of her and Luca dining on the balcony. A video of his hand sliding a diamond ring onto hers in jest, as if mocking the vows Serena still bore.
In the past, the sight would have shattered her.
Now, it barely stirred her heart.
A man who betrayed so easily wasn’t worth her grief.
---
On the fourth night, Serena left her locked room for the garden. The air was cool, the night deceptively peaceful.
Then a blur of fur barreled from the shadows. A Rottweiler, Isabella’s prized guard dog, lunged straight into her. Normally, she could have braced herself, but days of hunger had hollowed her body to glass.
She hit the ground hard. Pain tore through her abdomen, blood soaking her clothes as her knees buckled under her. Her vision blurred. She knew at once—life inside her had been extinguished before it even had a chance.
“Help!” she gasped, clutching her belly. “Please!”
The guards rushed forward, panic etched into their faces. One lifted her, shouting orders as the driver started the car.
But when they reached the street, red barricades blocked the way.
“I—I can’t go through!” the driver stammered. “Boss shut the roads down—Isabella’s birthday party. Streets are closed for her parade. No one passes without Luca’s clearance.”
Serena’s dress clung to her in wet crimson. Fireworks burst across the sky, showering the city in gold. Cheers echoed down the blocked street. All for Isabella.
Not for her. Never for her.
Her trembling hand reached for the ring on her finger. With all the strength she had left, she wrenched it free.
The diamond caught the flare of fireworks for one last brilliant flash—then clattered into the gutter, swallowed by darkness.
Her husband. Her marriage. All of it—gone.
