After Eight Lost Babies, I Left Him Forever

I thought his care was a sign of love, but it was actually a murder intent in disguise. "Husband, I don't like the milk's taste. Can I skip this one tonight?"

Lorenzo gave a helpless smile, but he didn't let me refuse. "Adriana, don't be stubborn. The Family physician said the more you dislike the food, the more your body needs it."

"If you don't rest well, the baby won't either. Aren't you the one who loves them the most? Be good. For the sake of our baby. Here, let me help you drink it."

He was half persuasive, half insistent as he pressed the rim of the glass to my lips. The crystal caught the low lamplight, and somewhere downstairs a soldier's footstep crossed the marble and went still. I had no chance to refuse.

Lorenzo, were you so afraid that my child would stand between Carmela's son and the seat? Or do you believe that the only woman worthy of carrying your blood is Carmela?

I closed my eyes in despair and drank the entire glass of milk.

In less than half an hour, the effects of the poison began to take hold. I curled up on the bed in agony, drenched in cold sweat from the pain. Lorenzo had just finished summoning our private doctor when he returned to the room. It was as if he'd been waiting outside the door all along.

Even though I had been through this seven times before, losing my child once again still felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

Through the haze of pain, I vaguely heard the doctor's voice. "Signor Falcone, your wife has lost significantly more blood than in her previous miscarriages. I'm afraid her body has been critically damaged. She'll never be able to conceive again."

Lorenzo said nothing, his eyes red as he cradled me in his arms. "Adriana, don't worry. Even if we can't have children, I'll still love you. I'll take care of you for the rest of my life."

From the pampered heir who had every door in the territory opened for him, Lorenzo now personally cleaned the bloodstains from my body. He was worried I'd catch a chill after the miscarriage. So he held me tightly in his arms to keep me warm as I slept.

In the dead of night, Lorenzo muttered in the middle of his deep sleep, "Carmela, don't be afraid. I'll make sure you get your happiness."

The tears I had been holding back for so long finally broke free. On the day they bound me to the Falcone name, Lorenzo had promised me happiness, but it was only a lie to keep me from standing in Carmela's way.

At that moment, I suddenly realized that my entire marriage had been nothing but a complete joke. A contract signed in good faith and answered with omertà. The one secret kept from me was the only one that mattered.

I quickly sent a message to my old friend beyond the Family's reach:

[You once invited me to leave all this behind and see the world with you, right? I've decided. I'll come to Lichtonia to see you the day after tomorrow.]

I put my phone down, but my lower abdomen still ached terribly.

The thought that I had just lost another child, and that it was his own father who had taken it from me, left me breathless with pain. I locked myself in the bathroom, letting my tears fall freely as I replayed all the moments I had shared with Lorenzo over the years.

When I stood up, my phone accidentally slipped from my hand.

I bent down to pick it up. Then I noticed something under the sink. A precious bundle, wrapped carefully in layers of expensive satin.

Curious, I unwrapped it, only to discover it was a thick photo album. An album filled with pictures of Carmela, from the age of fifteen to her current twenty-eight.

The design on the cover was familiar. I had seen it before, in the private study where Lorenzo kept the things no soldier was permitted to touch. Lorenzo had always loved his cameras, the one indulgence the legitimate front allowed him.

Although Lorenzo was Matteo's younger cousin, he was only a few years older than us. When we were children running through the estate, Lorenzo would often watch Matteo and me fighting over something. He looked aloof, as if he couldn't be bothered with the childish games we played.

One day, when Carmela had just turned fifteen, she approached me and asked if we could be friends. I didn't think much of it. Since I always saw her alone, I introduced her to Matteo and Lorenzo.

It was around that moment that Lorenzo started joining our gatherings. He even began learning photography.

I thought it was simply a sign of him maturing. In truth, it was because he had found the one he wanted.

The photos in the album. I only ever saw a few of them. The rest I never saw at all, not even back then.