Poisoned Passion: Burn From My Love

Two weeks later, I was discharged from the hospital and came home to find the house completely redone by Rosa.

The soldati shadowed her everywhere, while Carlo had to request permission multiple times just to get past the gates.

The moment I walked through the door, Salvatore came toward me with his arms open. It was as if nothing had changed.

"Arianna, Rosa's injuries were too serious. I can't trust anyone else to take care of her," he began. "But don't worry. You'll take the third floor, and she'll stay on the second. It's quieter up there. I won't let her bother you."

He said it so nicely, yet my clothes had already been packed and dumped at the foot of the stairs.

Clearly, this wasn't a discussion. It was an order.

I stepped out of his reach and took out the finalized divorce agreement from my bag. "Sign them, Salvatore. After that, you can let Rosa live wherever you want."

He didn't even glance at it. Without a word, he tore the papers in half.

Moments later, a few of his men came in and hung a new wedding photo on the wall.

Salvatore stepped forward and wrapped me in a firm embrace, saying, "Arianna, get mad all you want, but didn't we agree? No threats of breaking up or divorce. As long as I'm breathing, that's never happening."

I stared at him in disbelief. From the corner of my eye, I caught Rosa glaring at me with hatred on the second-floor landing.

"You want me to be your wife in name only and turn a blind eye to the mistress you've brought into our home?" I questioned. "You always said no one knew me better than you. So, tell me. Do you really think I'd accept that?"

Still, Salvatore looked at me with the same helpless, doting gaze I knew so well. "Principessa, you don't understand now. When the time comes, I'll explain everything."

Having said that, he led me to the dining table, his arm still around me. All my favorite dishes were laid out, and he had even lit candles.

"You've always complained about restaurant food. So, I cooked these myself. Go on. Try them. I made sure to use the healthiest ingredients since you just got discharged."

The food smelled wonderful, but my stomach churned.

Without warning, I flipped the table over. Plates shattered across the floor, and the candlesticks clattered as they rolled away.

Salvatore's eyes widened with anger before he grabbed my wrist. "Arianna Moretti! Do you have to be this stubborn?"

I yanked my hand free and pointed at Rosa, still standing on the stairs.

"Get the hell out of my house, both of you! The Morettis don't shelter traitors!"

Salvatore looked at me and let out a chuckle. "Calm down, Arianna. I'm the Don now. Anyone who goes against me is a traitor. You don't want to find out what happens to traitors in the dungeon, do you?"

I clenched my teeth as a chill ran through me.

"Behave." He dragged me up to the third floor as he spoke. "Get some rest. If you're not hungry now, you can eat later tonight."

The small room on the top floor had always borne a mocking name—the mistress's room. It was where unfaithful Dons kept their lovers out of sight.

Now, Salvatore had sent me to that room, while the real mistress was given the master bedroom downstairs.

I sat on the narrow bed, staring at the dust-coated pillow. A beat later, I pulled out my phone. It was already on the line.

"You heard everything, didn't you? I wasn't lying. We want the same thing. That's why you're going to help me," I said through gritted teeth.

When I hung up, exhaustion finally caught up with me, and I collapsed onto the bed.

From downstairs came Rosa's sweet voice as she coaxed Salvatore into taking her out for a candlelit dinner at an award-winning restaurant.

After hurting for so long, numbness was all that remained.

Once I saw Salvatore drive away with Rosa, I sent him the report confirming my miscarriage. Then, I locked the door.

After that, I took out a lighter and set the bed on fire. Flames roared to life, crackling through the room.

I lay back and closed my eyes, strangely at peace.

…

Meanwhile, at an award-winning restaurant, Rosa was tugging at Salvatore's arm.

"Why did you order everything I don't like? I don't want that. Let's get something else," she whined.

Salvatore shook his head. "Not today. Arianna has no appetite. So, I need to bring these back for her before she makes herself sick again."

Ignoring Rosa's tearful gaze, he picked up the bag of food and turned to leave.

Just as he reached the door, a soldato rushed up to him, panic written all over his face.

"Don Russo! Something's happened! Donna Russo set fire to the manor!"

Yet, Salvatore let out a dismissive laugh. "It's just a house. Let her burn it if it makes her happy. Is anyone hurt?"

Sweat glistened on the soldato's forehead, and his voice shook as he stammered, "B-But Donna Russo locked herself in the attic. We couldn't… save her."

In an instant, Salvatore froze mid-step.