#02 - Old Diary

Caterina Bellini

Things are not always what they seem.

Take Adrian Monti, for example. I once thought he was the most loyal man I had ever known. Always by my side, caring for me and everything related to our family.

That was what I believed... until he had the chance to prove exactly the opposite, when he ignored our bonds and placed a stranger above blood.

When I was killed by Nathalia, while my consciousness slowly faded, I kept asking myself where the guards were. How had she managed to act without anyone seeing, without raising the slightest suspicion?

Now, looking back…

I was an excellent swimmer. My father had introduced me to the water when I was still a baby, and since then, I had swum every week.

Adrian knew I would never drown in a simple house pool.

When I saw his eyes settle on me, I felt as if I were suffocating again. That heavy, tearing silence told me everything: we were no longer in sync. He was being manipulated once more.

The story was repeating itself right before my eyes.

“What do you mean by ‘no’?” His voice came out rough, almost angry.

Unbelievable.

“You heard me. No. This is my final decision.” I stood firm, even though deep inside I wanted to end both of them with my own hands.

Adrian froze at my defiance. It was not common.

I had always supported him. Always yielded.

At least, before… back when I still trusted him.

“Nathalia, give us a moment, please,” he said, guiding her into the next room.

Alone, Adrian abandoned his gentle mask. His brown eyes seemed darker when angry. Most of the time, he was courteous. But his temper could be intense. In that, we were alike.

The difference was that I had been foolish, obeying his wishes like a blind lover, leaving behind the bold, decisive part of my own personality.

But now everything had changed. I had changed.

“Caterina, don’t you see this girl is helpless? I owe this to her and to Victor for the sake of my reputation. Promises must be kept. You, more than anyone, understand that.”

His words held a trace of truth, yes. But the desperation in his gestures revealed something more beneath it. It was about ego.

The great provider. The man who protects the poor, defenseless girl.

What man would not feel noble in a situation like that?

But above all, I was his wife. That should weigh heavily on his moral scale.

“I am your wife. I thought that still counted for something,” I shot back.

He began pacing, rubbing the back of his neck as though nerves might grant him a miraculous answer.

“Yes, of course. You’re right. But Cat…” He stopped in front of me, his face tense. “You know I have commanded the Monti-Bellini Famiglia since the fusion. I decide what is best for us, and I cannot afford to disappoint my men.”

His arrogance annihilated the memory of what the Bellini fortress had once been: a family that had always prized justice and loyalty.

He spoke like the Don he had become, forgetting that he had once been my partner.

The tone said as much as the words. He was unyielding, and I, with my battered heart, realized that once again, he was choosing her over me.

But a broken heart is worthless without action.

And rage, the thirst for justice and vengeance, screamed louder within me. Seeing him defy me only fueled that fire.

The images would not leave my mind. I was being made a fool of. And they laughed behind my back.

They might have even celebrated my death together. Laughing while he found satisfaction in a child, when all I had ever given him was disappointment for being barren and empty inside.

In that moment, only one thought echoed in my mind: I needed to reclaim what was mine by right. My soldiers. The Bellini Coppola.

“It seems you’ve already made your decision, Adrian,” I said, before turning my back and climbing the stairs.

Now I had another goal, and I would see it through to the end.

So I went to my father’s old office, where Adrian usually held his meetings.

It was in that room that the family’s leadership made decisions about alliances, punishments, partnerships, and… executions.

I needed a network. Allies who could help me escape this dangerous web.

Something there had to be useful.

I tried to open the desk drawer, but it was locked, and the only key always stayed with my husband.

So I turned to the papers scattered across the table. Invoices, supplier emails… nothing of value.

Then I remembered where I used to hide my old diary.

It was tucked among the religious books on the shelf. No one in the family cared much for theology, so it had always been a safe hiding place.

They had reorganized the shelves a few times, but the discreet cover had never drawn the servants’ attention.

In just a few minutes of searching, I found it: burgundy in color, a little worn, a little aged. The Bellini crest was still intact there, at least. An ouroboros.

The end and the beginning before my eyes. Death and rebirth.

There had to be something in it that could help me. I needed to find something.

Anything.

When I left the office, I locked the door behind me and returned to the bedroom.

From the window, I saw Nathalia and Adrian in the garden. Her eyes watered, using her practiced techniques of emotional blackmail.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the bed, taking advantage of the privacy to examine my information in peace. I flipped through the pages one by one, searching for something that could save me now. I separated the useless ones, trying to arrange my notes so they made sense.

And then, near the end of the pages, I saw it.

Scribbled carelessly, among other words that no longer made sense to me.

A name I had not seen or heard in a very long time, but one I could never forget.

Not when it belonged to him.