A Falcone's Tainted Collection

After my recovery, Dante announced he was taking me to the Falcone estate for the family's monthly dinner.

I was mentally and physically drained and just wanted to rest, so I refused. But he was insistent, his mask of "concern" slipping away.

Dante was always the most enthusiastic about these dinners. This time, his insistence made me realize with sickening clarity who he was so desperate to see—Isabella.

After taking my place as Marco’s wife, Isabella's star had risen among the five families.

She was constantly socializing, only returning to the Falcone estate for these monthly gatherings.

"Is that cripple from the Moretti family coming too? I lose my appetite just looking at her."

"Mamma didn't invite her. When is that good-for-nothing who can't even produce an heir going to die?"

"I still don't get why Dante had to marry that tainted trash. Is he trying to collect strays and embarrass the Falcone name?"

Their taunts hit me as we approached the entrance of the Falcone estate, sharp as glass, dragging me back to that night a year ago. The night I was pinned to a cold floor as my hands were smashed.

The memory of my own screams echoed in my ears, a nightmare I could never escape.

A flicker of regret crossed Dante’s face, but he kept pushing my wheelchair forward, insisting we go inside.

"I'm sorry, Seraphina. I didn't expect them to say that. I'll make them shut up," he consoled me.

I didn't respond. In the past, whenever he said things like that, I would always stop him, trying to be the peacemaker for the sake of family harmony.

But now, I understood. He only said it because he knew I would stop him. He had orchestrated my ruin, yet he still allowed his family to tear me down, piece by piece. This was his version of love.

I called his bluff. "Go ahead. Put them in their place for me."

"What?" Dante froze, his surprise blatant. He’d been counting on me to stop him, as I always did.

I scoffed and wheeled myself past him, throwing open the doors to the dining room.

I wasn't going to let this go. Not this time.

"Thank you all for your concern, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you—I won't be dying anytime soon," I announced to the silent room.

They all knew I had heard them.

My mother-in-law, Carmela Falcone, was the first to break the silence. "Who allowed you to come here?"

"I haven't even accepted you into this family, and you show up uninvited. Do all you Morettis have no manners?"