Adriana rushed over immediately, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "Let it out, Bianca," she whispered, her voice gentle but firm.
"He's not worth it. Your baby understood that much. A man like him could never be a real father."
She held me closer and added softly, "It's okay. If they ignore the papers, we'll take legal action. This marriage will end, one way or another."
My blood-sworn sister and I stayed in the Family clinic for three long weeks. Day after day passed in that quiet, guarded wing, where time seemed to stretch endlessly. A single soldier sat posted outside the door around the clock, not because the Falcones had sent him but because the attending doctor owed Adriana's people a favor and wasn't taking chances.
During those weeks, not a single word came from the brothers. No calls, no messages, not even a simple question asking where we were or how we were doing. It was as if we had completely disappeared from their world.
Any last trace of hope we had once clung to slowly dissolved under that cold indifference. With each passing day, it became clearer that we had never truly mattered to them.
It wasn't until the day we were discharged that we finally ran into Luca.
He didn't even notice us at first. His gaze was fixed ahead, his steps quick and purposeful, as if he had somewhere far more important to be.
Curiosity stirred within us, and without a word, we followed him quietly down the hallway, keeping our distance.
He led us straight to the maternity ward. And the moment we stepped closer, everything became painfully clear.
Inside, Viviana lay on the hospital bed, clinging tightly to Dante. Her face was pale, her voice trembling as she cried about her fear of giving birth.
Luca stood beside her, gently brushing the hair away from her face, his movements soft and careful. Both men looked at her with the same tender concern, their attention fully centered on her.
The three of them together created a scene of warmth and harmony, something that should have been comforting. But to us, it was nothing but painful.
Without thinking, Adriana and I both placed our hands over our stomachs. The emptiness there felt heavier than ever.
The contrast was unbearable. Her fear was wrapped in love and protection, while our loss had been met with silence and neglect.
Unable to keep watching, I forced myself to look away. My thumb rubbed the pale mark where my wedding ring had sat, and I grabbed Adriana's arm gently and led her out of the clinic without another glance.
We had more important things to do now.
See you at the registry office the day after tomorrow, I sent Dante a message as we walked out. And bring Luca with you. This is serious. If you don't show up, we'll proceed through the courts.
Almost instantly, Dante called me. But I didn't pick up.
More messages followed, one after another, flooding my phone. I didn't read any of them. Instead, I simply turned my phone off.
After that, Adriana and I went straight to the police station to report what had happened.
Adriana smoothed the seam of her sleeve flat with two precise strokes as we pushed through the precinct door. Going to the cops. Two Falcone wives walking into a station house of their own free will. We both understood what that meant. Omertà had rules, and we were about to break every one of them.
This wasn't just an accident. It was a deliberate act of revenge, targeted specifically at a Family surgeon's household.
I recounted everything in detail to the officer, from the snatch job to the violence that followed. His expression grew increasingly serious as he listened.
"This is a serious case," he said, his tone concerned. "Why didn't you report it earlier? If the suspect comes after you again…"
I let out a bitter laugh, interrupting him. "He won't."
"Even the man who took me knows I have no value to Dante," I continued quietly. "Hurting me doesn't affect him at all."
I asked the officer to check the surveillance footage and investigate further. I explained how Adriana and I had lost our babies during the incident, and how we had barely survived a landslide on our own.
His expression softened, sympathy flickering in his eyes.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Falcone," he said firmly. "We'll do everything we can to get to the truth."
When we stepped out of the station, I checked my phone again.
Viviana had posted a new update. A little angel, 6 pounds and 3 ounces, has entered my life.
The comment section was lively, filled with congratulations and blessings.
Dante replied beneath it: Christening sponsor number one, reporting for duty.
Luca followed shortly after: Christening sponsor number two, here as well.
A wave of irony washed over me. If they ever found out that they had lost their own children, I wondered… would it even matter to them?
