He Buried the Marriage, She Resurrected as His Rival

The sky split open without warning, and rain came crashing down in sheets over the Moretti estate.

Water soaked through Adriana's clothes in seconds, plastering the fabric to her skin like ice. Yet she stood in the downpour with her spine ramrod straight, her gaze fixed on Lorenzo through the tall windows of the great room. There was no plea in her eyes. Not a trace.

Something twisted in Lorenzo's chest, sharp and unbidden. A terrible thought surfaced.

Did she want to leave him?

He crushed it almost instantly. She couldn't leave him. She loved him too much. His thumb went still against the heavy gold signet on his finger, and for one breath the room seemed to hold itself.

His eyes went cold.

"Adriana, you really think this house is yours to throw tantrums in? Don't you dare use my mother's name to strong-arm me."

He wrapped his arm around Vanessa's waist and turned toward the stairs without a backward glance, leaving Adriana standing in the rain.

The downpour only worsened, each drop hammering against her body like a fist.

Two of the enforcers moved toward her, ready to force her to her knees on the stone. Adriana lifted her gaze and pinned them with a stare that could cut glass.

"You know what the Don's mother is capable of. If I kneel on this ground today, do you really think you'll be breathing tomorrow?"

The color drained from their faces. They exchanged a look, and Carmela Moretti's name did what Adriana's words alone could not. They released her and stepped back, reluctance written in every line of them.

Adriana stumbled back inside. Every step sent a dull, dragging ache through her lower abdomen.

She made it to the second floor. Lorenzo's bedroom door stood ajar, and through the gap she saw something that made the world tilt sideways.

Lorenzo had Vanessa pinned against the headboard. Their bodies were tangled together, moving in a rhythm that left nothing to the imagination.

Vanessa looked up. Through the crack in the door, her eyes met Adriana's.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips, mockery spilling from her gaze like venom. Her smile stretched a fraction too far. Then she draped her arms over Lorenzo's shoulders and let out a breathy, theatrical moan.

Something hot and metallic surged up Adriana's throat. She clamped both hands over her mouth, barely keeping the blood from spilling past her lips.

She couldn't watch. She turned and fled to her own room like a hunted animal.

The moment she locked the door behind her, a mouthful of blood poured into her cupped palm. Bright red. Violent against her skin.

She slid down the door and crumpled to the floor, still wrapped in her soaked clothes. The cold seeped into her bones as pain folded her body in on itself. Her vision blurred at the edges, then began to dissolve.

Time lost its shape. The chill burrowed deeper.

She fumbled for her phone and dialed Lorenzo's number on instinct. Once. Twice. Again and again. No one picked up.

She dragged herself out of the room on her hands and knees. From behind his bedroom door, the sounds hadn't stopped. Rise and fall. Rise and fall.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital bed in one of the Family's quiet private wings. A doctor stood beside her, his expression grim.

"Signora Moretti, your fever spiked past a hundred and two. Between the rain and the strain on you, the pregnancy is extremely unstable. You cannot endure any further distress. If you do, we may not be able to save the child."

Adriana stared at the ceiling and nodded.

Not long after, a commotion erupted in the hallway. Every member of the staff was summoned away.

The nurses chattered as they hurried past her door.

"The Don's Miss Carbone just got admitted. They say things got too rough in the bedroom. He called in every doctor in the building to see to her."

"And look at the lady in here. Carrying a child, burning up with fever, and not a single soul tending to her. That memory wound of his is a convenient thing. Seems the only person he's forgotten is his own wife."

"When you get down to it, the one who isn't loved is the real outsider. Miss Carbone is the one the Don actually cares for now."

Every cruel word found its way into Adriana's ears, precise as a blade.

She turned her head toward the window. Outside, the rain had stopped. Her eyes held nothing but emptiness.

In the days that followed, Lorenzo stayed at Vanessa's side, tending to her every need. He never once learned that his wife lay in the same building.