Just a moment—
I thought he might turn.
But he didn’t.
“Lies,” he said flatly.
The word cut deeper than anything else.
“No woman’s water breaks at eight months.”
“I’m telling the truth! Look at my dress—it’s soaked!” I screamed, fighting against the men holding me. “I can feel him! The baby’s coming—any second!”
My voice shattered into desperation.
“Please—look at me!”
Still nothing.
“Look at the puddle! Look at me!”
My breathing turned ragged, panicked.
“I’m begging you—don’t let them do this!”
The men tightened their grip.
The world tilted.
And as they began to carry me away—
All I could hear was the echo of his final words hanging in the air—
And the silence where his belief should have been.
The guards didn’t slow.
They carried me away from the garden—away from the scent of jasmine and gardenias, away from the soft rustle of leaves, away from Violet’s smug, satisfied silence and Ciro’s cold obedience.
Away from Vincenzo.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might split my ribs.
“Vincenzo—you can’t let this happen! I am your wife!” I screamed, straining against their hold, my voice cracking.
“I’ll die in that cold room! I won’t survive! Our baby will die! Please—don’t punish me, or our innocent child, for something I didn’t do!”
My words echoed off the stone walls as they moved deeper into the estate.
Colder corridors.
Narrower passageways.
Every step felt like a descent into something worse.
“This is a setup! Violet set me up... can’t you see it?!” I screamed, my throat already raw. “You’re making a mistake—just listen to me!”
But no one answered.
