The bedroom door slammed shut behind me.
A second later, I heard the deadbolt slide into place.
The sound echoed through the guest room, making one thing painfully clear.
I was locked in.
My face throbbed where Lorenzo had struck me. He'd dismissed it as an instinctive reaction, insisting he'd only slapped me to "bring me back to my senses" after I hit Bianca. Looking at the angry bruise spreading across my cheek, I knew exactly what it really was.
Abuse.
I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the closed door.
My phone had disappeared.
My laptop was gone too.
Inside the house I had bought with my own money, I had become a captive, watched over by the husband who had betrayed me and the woman I had once considered family.
Time crawled by.
Outside the window, daylight slowly faded until the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Shadows stretched across the walls, swallowing the room inch by inch.
My stomach twisted painfully.
The growl that escaped it reminded me I hadn't eaten anything since the previous day.
Eventually, I heard the lock disengage.
The door opened.
Bianca walked inside carrying a dinner tray.
An ice pack rested against the side of her face where I'd slapped her, but there wasn't a trace of misery in her expression. If anything, she looked pleased with herself.
"I brought you something to eat," she said cheerfully, placing the tray on the bedside table.
Chicken noodle soup.
It had always been my favorite comfort meal.
At least, it used to be.
"I'm not interested," I replied without looking at her.
"Oh, Alessandra." She sighed dramatically before sitting beside me on the mattress as though nothing had happened between us. "Don't be stubborn. You have to eat something. You're starting to look terribly thin."
"Leave."
Instead of listening, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.
"What if we stopped fighting?" she suggested almost playfully. "Maybe we should call a truce."
I finally turned to face her.
Really looked at her.
This was the same woman who had stood beside me as my maid of honor.
The same woman who had held me while I sobbed after another negative pregnancy test.
"A truce?" I repeated slowly. "You're sleeping with my husband."
She shrugged as though we were discussing the weather.
"So?"
Her fingers absentmindedly tugged at a loose thread on the quilt.
"We've shared everything since we were little girls, haven't we? Clothes, makeup, secrets..." She smiled. "Why should Lorenzo be any different? The three of us could make this work. We could live together like one happy family, just like old times."
Revulsion churned violently inside my stomach.
The nerve.
The complete lack of shame.
I wanted to scream until the walls shook.
Instead, I remembered what the attorney had told me.
Gather evidence.
Wait.
Survive.
Losing control now would only hand them another excuse to have me declared unstable.
I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat and forced myself to stay calm.
"You really believe that could work?" I asked quietly.
"Of course." Bianca smiled wider, something predatory flashing behind her eyes. "Lorenzo loves both of us. Just differently. I give him excitement." She tapped her temple before pointing at mine. "You give him intelligence. Together, we're exactly what he needs."
I nearly gagged.
Still, I made myself nod.
"Maybe..." I whispered. "Maybe you're right. I'm exhausted. I don't want to keep fighting anymore."
Bianca's entire face lit up.
"I knew you'd come around!" she exclaimed, clapping excitedly. "I'll tell Lorenzo right now. He's going to be so happy."
She hurried out of the room so quickly that she forgot to lock the door behind her.
About ten minutes later, Lorenzo stepped inside.
He studied me cautiously, clearly expecting another confrontation.
When he found me sitting quietly instead, the tension visibly left his shoulders.
"Bianca told me you're ready to apologize," he said.
I lowered my eyes.
"Yes," I answered.
It was the biggest lie I'd ever told.
"I'm sorry, Lorenzo. I don't know what happened to me. Everything that's been happening... the pressure... I just lost control."
"I know." His voice softened as he walked over and wrapped his arms around me.
Every muscle in my body stiffened.
I forced myself not to pull away.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured. "We'll get through this. We'll be a family again."
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet jewelry box.
"I bought you something."
He opened the lid.
A diamond necklace glittered beneath the bedroom light.
"I wanted you to have this," he said with a smile. "Think of it as a fresh start. Proof of how much I love you."
"It's beautiful," I said softly, allowing him to clasp it around my neck.
"Oh, and I bought Bianca one too," he added casually. "She's done so much to help lately. It only seemed fair."
We went downstairs together.
Bianca was already seated at the dining table.
Around her neck hung an identical necklace.
At first glance they looked exactly alike.
Then the chandelier caught the stones.
Mine reflected the light with a dull, cloudy shine.
Hers scattered brilliant flashes of color in every direction.
She was wearing genuine diamonds.
Mine were nothing more than cheap imitations.
His mistress received the real gift.
His wife received the counterfeit.
I silently took my seat, folding my hands tightly beneath the table.
Lorenzo lifted his wineglass.
"A toast," he announced. "To fresh starts."
Bianca smiled at him.
"To new beginnings."
Their glasses clinked together.
I raised mine as well but never took a sip.
Instead, I reached for the soup.
The first spoonful tasted wrong.
There was a strange metallic bitterness beneath the broth.
I forced myself to swallow.
Then I took another bite.
Almost immediately, my stomach cramped so violently that I doubled over.
"Alessandra?"
Lorenzo's voice sounded distant, as though he were standing at the other end of a tunnel.
"My stomach..." I gasped. "Something's wrong."
Agonizing pain tore through my abdomen.
I tried to stand.
My legs refused to obey.
The floor rushed toward me as I collapsed, retching uncontrollably.
"Oh my God," Bianca said.
She didn't leave her chair.
She simply watched while calmly taking another sip of wine.
"Call an ambulance!" I cried.
The dining room blurred.
Darkness crept into the edges of my vision.
For one terrifying moment, Lorenzo simply stared at me.
I watched the calculation flicker across his face.
Was it worth saving me?
Or would it be easier if I died right there?
The next thing I remembered was the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment.
The sharp scent of antiseptic filled my lungs.
My eyelids felt impossibly heavy.
I couldn't open them.
But I could hear.
"Is she dead yet?"
Bianca.
She sounded annoyed more than concerned.
"No," a man answered.
A doctor.
"She's stable now. It appears she suffered a severe toxic reaction. Either food poisoning or an interaction with the medication listed in her chart."
Bianca let out an irritated groan.
"Seriously? That bitch just refuses to die."
"Lower your voice," Lorenzo warned sharply.
"So what now?" Bianca asked. "She's going to wake up and blame the soup."
"We'll explain it away," Lorenzo replied smoothly. "We'll say the stress finally caught up with her. Her health has been deteriorating for weeks. It'll fit perfectly with everything else."
"And... the pregnancy?"
Bianca's voice dropped.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Then the doctor spoke.
"She never knew."
His tone was subdued.
"She was approximately eight weeks pregnant."
Everything inside me froze.
"She was?" Lorenzo asked.
"The pregnancy couldn't be saved," the doctor answered quietly. "The abdominal trauma combined with the toxins was simply too much. She miscarried."
My baby.
I hadn't even known.
After three heartbreaking miscarriages...
After years of doctor's appointments...
After finally giving up on ever becoming a mother...
There had been a child growing inside me.
And because of them...
My baby was gone.
Hot tears slipped from beneath my closed eyelids.
I didn't move.
I didn't make a sound.
I lay perfectly still while the three people responsible discussed my child's death as though they were solving a business problem.
"Well," Bianca said without an ounce of remorse, "that's one less complication. At least there won't be an heir getting in the way of the divorce."
"You're right," Lorenzo agreed without hesitation. "In the end, it's probably for the best."
A pause followed.
"Now all that's left is making sure she completely falls apart at her birthday party."
Inside, something hardened.
No.
That would never happen.
Because long before my birthday arrived...
I'd already be gone.
