I could see the guilt weighing heavily on her, almost crushing her. But honestly, my heart hurt even more for her than for myself.
She had spent two long years trying to conceive, holding onto hope month after month. And yet, she lost her baby before she even realized she had been pregnant. The cruelty of it all was unbearable.
I was just about to comfort her when her phone suddenly rang. It was her husband, Luca.
The moment she answered, his voice came through, harsh and impatient. "My brother said Bianca is planning to get rid of the baby. Was this your idea?"
His tone only grew sharper as he continued. "Can you two stop acting crazy for once? Didn't I tell you yesterday I was working on Viviana's case? It's important! I told you not to bother me. Are you deaf?"
He didn't pause to listen, didn't give her a chance to speak. "Honestly, I don't even know why I married you. Always causing trouble, always threatening to walk away like it's some kind of joke. If you want out, then go. No one's stopping you."
The call ended abruptly, leaving nothing but a hollow silence behind.
My blood-sworn sister stared at her phone for a moment, her expression blank. Then she shook her head lightly, trying to brush it off, but her eyes reddened uncontrollably. Through the half-open door, I caught the shape of a soldier posted in the corridor, his gaze fixed straight ahead, pretending he hadn't heard a word. That was how things worked in this family. Everyone heard everything. No one acknowledged a thing.
I reached out and took her hand in mine, holding it gently despite how cold it felt. "Don't be sad," I whispered softly. "We're still alive. That's what matters most."
I forced a small smile. "Maybe this is a sign. Maybe it's time for us to let go of everything that's been hurting us."
"Let's rest for now," I continued, my voice steady. "And when we're stronger, we'll walk out together. We'll start over. Deal?"
She choked out a quiet "okay," her voice barely audible. Adriana smoothed the seam of her sleeve flat with two precise strokes, and then, as if something inside her finally broke, she leaned forward and collapsed against my shoulder.
Her sobs came all at once, uncontrollable and raw. I held her tightly as my own tears began to fall. Fear, anger, grief, heartbreak, everything we had been suppressing poured out in that moment.
What we once believed were dream marriages had turned out to be nothing but carefully disguised nightmares.
I couldn't help but remember the early days, when we had just gotten married. We had even shared our story with the wives of other families at a christening dinner, laughing about how "blood-sworn sisters married Falcone brothers," thinking it was something special.
At the time, the other women had raised their glasses, saying things like, "Double the blessing on the Falcone name!" and "You two are living the dream."
Back then, we had believed it too.
But everything began to fall apart six months ago, the moment Viviana Caruso returned from Europe.
After that, Dante was suddenly always "too busy" to answer calls, his phone constantly unreachable. Luca, too, was rarely at the estate, always out at quiet sit-downs, working the old-country circuit, or attending events at the family's hotel fronts.
That was when we slowly realized the truth. This marriage had never been about love.
It was nothing more than Dante and Luca's twisted way of getting close to Viviana again, a carefully planned move in a game that had nothing to do with us. The alliances our families had blessed, the rings exchanged at the altar of St. Cecilia's, all of it had been part of their selfish scheme.
The most painful part was how long Adriana and I had been fooled. We had believed everything. We had trusted them completely.
We had even allowed them to bring Viviana into the Falcone compound, thinking it was only temporary. But instead, we watched them dote on her, giving her everything they had never given us.
Their phones were filled with photos of the three of them together, smiling, laughing, looking like a perfect trio. Those photos were always hidden from our view, carefully concealed.
A Family surgeon and a Consigliere, both respected and feared, yet they revolved entirely around Viviana. Dante suddenly took an interest in obstetrics, just to be closer to her. Luca personally handled her separation case through the Consigliere's front office, going out of his way for her.
Meanwhile, we, their wives, received nothing. Not even a word on Christmas morning. Not a single bouquet of flowers.
