Chapter 4

I'd expected this.

My body had been falling apart for a long time. I'd known it was only a matter of time before it finally gave out.

Six months. Two weeks. What difference did it make?

Living had become little more than existing in a body that no longer felt like mine. Perhaps dying would finally give me the peace I'd been denied.

I nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but before he could, the hospital room door flew open.

Dante stormed inside.

"What the hell are you doing now?" His voice was sharp enough to cut.

"You were supposed to stay in the cellar and reflect on what you'd done. Instead, you've upset Lucia so badly that she's left the estate!"

He glared at me. "And you have the nerve to lie here like you're the one who's been wronged?"

I said nothing. I simply looked at him.

Dante grabbed the front of my hospital gown and tried to yank me upright.

The IV line tore free from my arm. Blood splattered across the white sheets.

A sharp groan escaped me, and I tasted something metallic at the back of my throat.

I clenched my jaw, desperately trying to keep the blood from coming up.

"Mr. Vitale, please!" the doctor rushed forward. "She needs rest. Her condition is critical—"

"If you keep taking her side, I'll make sure you never work in this hospital again!" Dante roared.

This was a private hospital controlled by the Vitale family. The doctor and nurses exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them dared to intervene.

Dante's bodyguards seized me and dragged me out.

My cheek scraped against the floor, leaving a burning trail of pain.

By the time they hauled me into the Falcone estate, I could barely move my limbs. I collapsed onto the marble floor, unable to lift my head.

Across the room, Lucia was curled up on the sofa, surrounded by my parents and Marcello.

They were fussing over her, asking whether she was feeling better and whether anyone had upset her.

Every so often, she glanced at me. There was triumph in her eyes, carefully hidden beneath a mask of innocence.

Then she spoke in a trembling voice. "Isabella, what are you doing? Are you trying to frame me again?"

Dante kicked me in the abdomen.

Pain tore through me, and my vision went black for a moment.

"Apologize to Lucia. Right now," he ordered. "Or we're getting divorced."

I struggled to raise my head.

My family sat above me, their faces filled with disgust rather than concern.

Marcello seemed almost uncomfortable with the sight of me on the floor, but all he said was, "Get up, Isabella. Have some dignity."

I almost wanted to laugh.

I knew I looked pathetic. But I couldn't get up even if I wanted to.

Lucia immediately slipped off the sofa and knelt in front of me, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Isabella, please don't do this. I know you're upset, but you don't have to make yourself look so miserable just to make everyone feel guilty. I never wanted to hurt you."

Dante's expression softened as he looked at her.

Then he turned back to me and kicked me again.

"Get up! I was the one who let Lucia stay here. Who gave you the right to drive her out?"

My parents had barely looked at me.

Their attention remained fixed on Lucia.

My mother finally turned toward me, her voice full of reproach.

"Isabella, why must you always make things so difficult? You've only just come home, and you're already picking on Lucia."

She shook her head in disappointment.

"Honestly, you should never have come back. You would've been better off staying in Scampia."

I lay motionless on the marble, feeling the blood slowly spreading beneath me.

Nobody seemed to notice how pale I was. Nobody seemed to care that I could barely breathe.

I tried to speak. The moment I opened my mouth, blood spilled out.

Dante paused.

Then he curled his lip. "Nice performance."

But the blood kept coming.

It spread across the marble, turning the pristine floor red.

My mother's scream pierced the room.

Dante shouted for someone to call a doctor. My father cursed, his voice rising above the sudden chaos.

I could hear them all.

My mother's frantic cries. Dante's panicked orders. The hurried footsteps of the staff.

For the first time, everyone was looking at me.

But by then, I could no longer make out their faces.

The darkness swallowed everything.