"Alright," I said. "Let's get divorced."
Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked out.
After leaving the hotel, I immediately called my divorce lawyer. As I spoke, trying to finalize the next steps, a sudden, blinding light flashed in front of me.
A car was speeding straight toward me, completely out of control.
Panic surged through me instantly. My body froze, my legs giving out as I stumbled backward in shock.
Just when I thought I was about to be hit, the driver slammed on the brakes, swerved sharply, and sped off in another direction.
I collapsed onto the ground, my heart pounding wildly, my entire body trembling from the shock.
A girl passing by rushed over to help me, her face filled with concern. She reached out to steady me, her hand brushing lightly against my waist.
Then she suddenly gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh my God… you're bleeding so much!"
Her voice sounded distant, as if coming from far away. I slowly lowered my gaze, only then noticing the dark red pool spreading beneath me.
At the clinic, the doctor asked me to contact a family member.
I held my phone tightly, staring at Dante's number for a long time. My fingers hovered over the screen, unmoving.
In the end, I lowered my hand and dialed Lydia Carbone instead.
There was one thing I couldn't forget.
The license plate on that car… was exactly the same as Dante's.
We had chosen that number together.
I stayed in the clinic until noon the next day, the hours passing slowly in a haze of exhaustion and quiet reflection. A nurse checked my vitals twice before dawn, speaking in the careful, low voice people reserved for rooms paid for in cash with no questions asked. During that entire time, Dante only sent me one message. It was short and oddly phrased: Viv's ceiling is leaking, so I'm taking her back to our place.
The moment I read it, I knew it wasn't really him. The tone, the wording, everything about it felt off. It had Viviana's fingerprints all over it, like she was deliberately trying to make sure I saw it.
When I finally returned to the estate, I stood in front of the door and entered the gate cipher out of habit. But it didn't work. I paused, slightly confused, and was about to try again when the door suddenly opened from the inside.
Viviana stood there, wearing my apron as if it belonged to her, smiling brightly like she had been waiting for me. "Serena, you're finally home!" she said in an overly cheerful tone.
"The old code was too hard for me to remember, so Dante changed it to my birthday," she added casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Come in, I'll get you some water."
She stepped aside and welcomed me in, her posture relaxed and confident, as if she were the donna of this house and I was the guest.
The smell of freshly cooked food drifted out from the kitchen, filling the air. Before I could take another step, she turned and ran toward the kitchen doorway.
"Dante, Serena's back!" she called out in a light, almost excited voice.
A moment later, Dante walked out. He was wearing the same couple's apron I had once bought for him.
Back then, he had scoffed at it, saying it was childish and refusing to wear it no matter how many times I asked.
Now, seeing him wearing it so naturally, I couldn't help but think he looked ridiculous. The Don of the Moretti Family, a man whose name made soldiers lower their eyes, standing in a kitchen doorway in a matching apron. The contrast felt almost ironic.
He only glanced at me briefly before turning to Viviana, his tone soft and gentle. "Go rest in the bedroom for a bit."
Viviana nodded obediently, grabbing a bag of nuts and snacks from the table before heading straight into my bedroom, as if it were hers.
The door closed behind her, leaving just the two of us standing there. Somewhere deeper in the house, a faucet dripped. Neither of us moved to fix it.
