Her face flushed a deep, furious crimson.
“How dare this bitch speak to me like that, Renzo?” she snapped, her voice cracking with disbelief and outrage.
Her fingers tightened over her abdomen as if grounding herself, as if my words alone had threatened something fragile within her.
“Hit her. Right now. Teach her a lesson.”
The command hung in the air.
Renzo didn’t move.
Didn’t even flinch.
His gaze flicked from Violet to me and back again, something restrained tightening in his jaw.
“She’s the boss’s wife,” he said evenly. “I would not dare lay a hand on her.”
The words were calm—but final.
Violet let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, stepping closer to him as if she couldn’t process what she was hearing.
“What?” she demanded. “You can’t seriously mean that, can you?”
When he didn’t respond, her voice rose.
“Do you honestly think Vincenzo would punish you if you hit her—or even kill her—for my sake?”
Her tone sharpened, edged with something dangerously close to certainty.
“My Vincenzo despises this woman. He’d kill her for me, if that’s what I wanted. Anything... just to see me satisfied.”
The way she said my made something cold twist in my chest.
“Vincenzo didn’t marry her because of some childish fourteen hours they spent together as children,” she continued, words spilling faster, fueled by conviction.
“He married her to trap her under his roof... to punish her daily for her father’s sins.”
Her lips twisted in a cruel smirk.
“To make her suffer... until she’s broken.”
Her eyes flicked back to me, gleaming.
Then, almost proudly—
“He told me he could get fresh hearts from dozens of donors willing to save me.”
Her smile deepened.
“I said no.”
That caught my attention.
“I said I wanted hers.”
Her gaze locked onto mine now, sharp and triumphant.
“And he promised—he swore—he would do exactly what I wanted.”
