Omertà The Blood They Stole

"Your sister had another fight with Alessandro," my mother said gently. "She wants to stay at your place for a while. Tomasso has already agreed."

"So just let her stay, capisci? Seeing you only reminds her that you were once promised to Alessandro. You know how sensitive she is."

"But... why?" My voice cracked as I cut her off.

"Why what?"

Silence lingered for a heartbeat.

Then my father's voice came over the line, heavy with alcohol.

"Sweetheart... I know you've never forgiven us for letting Camilla marry Alessandro."

"But we had no choice. If we hadn't secured that alliance, the Vitale Family would've been finished. Our standing in the Cosa Nostra would've collapsed. The tribute would've stopped coming..."

I slowly closed my eyes.

These excuses.

I'd heard them so many times they no longer sounded like words.

Only noise.

But that wasn't what I wanted to know.

What I wanted to ask was...

Why?

Why was I always the one sacrificed?

Why was burying the truth more important than protecting their own daughter?

Why was Camilla...

A girl switched into my cradle...

Worth more than the child they had searched thirteen years to find?

Was the Vitale Family's reputation truly more precious than my life?

On the other end of the phone, my father continued talking.

The longer he spoke, the sicker I felt.

"I understand," I whispered at last.

"I'll do as you ask."

The moment the call ended, I stumbled into the bathroom.

I barely made it to the sink before I doubled over, vomiting until my stomach cramped.

When I finally looked up, a pale, hollow-eyed stranger stared back at me from the mirror.

I hardly recognized the woman reflected there.

That was the moment I made my decision.

If everyone in my life only cared about Camilla...

Then they could have her.

I was leaving.

I walked back into the sitting room and dialed the number I hadn't called in years.

The elderly woman who had once cared for me in the mission-house answered almost immediately.

"Iris," I said quietly, "I want to go overseas with you."

"I want to help build the new refuge."

After listening to her answer, I closed my eyes and smiled through tears.

"Yes."

"I've made up my mind."

"I can leave with you at the end of next month."

After ending that call, I immediately dialed my private physician.

"Don't tell Signor Graziano about the pregnancy."

"I want it to be a surprise."

"A surprise?" a familiar voice repeated behind me.

The study door had just opened.

Tomasso stood there, having caught only the last few words.

Without missing a beat, I smiled faintly.

"Your birthday is at the end of next month."

"It's a birthday surprise."

His entire face brightened.

He crossed the room in quick strides and wrapped me tightly in his arms.

"Thank you, Serafina."

"You don't have to do all this."

"I don't want gifts."

"I just want you to be happy."

"Every single day."

Once...

Those words would've made me cry with happiness.

Now...

They only made my heart colder.

"My parents called earlier," I murmured against his shoulder.

"They asked me not to upset Camilla while she's pregnant."

"I'm... really hurting, Tommy."

He hugged me tighter, gently rubbing my back.

"They don't mean anything by it."

"My brother says Camilla's temperament has become impossible since the pregnancy."

"He actually left the country today just to avoid arguing with her."

I slowly shook my head.

My eyes turned red.

"That's not why I'm upset."

I lowered my gaze, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm just sad..."

"That I'll never be able to give the man I love a child..."

"The way my sister can."

For the briefest instant...

Tomasso went completely still.

His embrace stiffened.

And before he hid it away...

I caught it.

A flicker of disappointment.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

But real.

"I'm sorry, Tommy."

"I've only ever been a burden to you."

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood as tears slipped silently down my cheeks.

His expression quickly softened again.

His thumb unconsciously brushed over the wedding ring on his finger.

Again.

And again.

Slowly.

Like a habit he'd repeated thousands of times.

Like a silent confession only he understood.

"Don't ever think that."

"I told you two years ago."

"Even if you could never have children..."

"I would still love you."

"Exactly the same."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

Exactly the same?

Would he?

"There is something else," he said after a pause.

"I already promised your parents Camilla could stay here for a while."

"What do you think...?"

He phrased it like a question.

As though I truly had a choice.

Yet beneath those careful words...

I heard the plea.

He wanted me to say yes.

He needed me to.

So I smiled.

A perfect smile.

"Of course."

"I don't mind."

"I wouldn't want to make things difficult for you."

Relief flooded his face so quickly it almost hurt to watch.

"Serafina..."

"You're incredible."

I swallowed the bitterness burning in my throat.

"Incredible?"

"In what way?"

He smiled warmly.

"You're the perfect wife."

"The perfect sister."

"The perfect daughter."

"I can't think of a single flaw you have."

I smiled back.

Small.

Quiet.

Bitter enough to break my own heart.

So...

This was what being "good" earned me.

My parents choosing Camilla.

My husband choosing Camilla.

Everyone protecting the woman who had orchestrated my nightmare.

Sheltering a criminal.

Covering up her sins.

Leaving me alone to bleed.

Feeling the slight tremble running through my body, Tomasso gently pulled me closer.

His voice was softer than ever.

"You're exhausted."

"Come on."

"I'll help you get some sleep."

Late that night, after making certain my breathing had settled into the slow rhythm of deep sleep, Tomasso carefully slipped his fingers from mine.

Without making a sound...

He rose from the bed.

Then quietly disappeared into his study once again.