The Blood Pact He Hid for Seven Years and Broke in One Sentence

"What's the matter? Spit it out," Lorenzo said bluntly, cracking the knuckles of one hand against his palm.

Feigning a hint of shyness, Bianca cast a quick glance my way before addressing him. Her fingers drifted to her collarbone. "Lorenzo, you know how Dominic and I grew up together, two families bound since we were children. Even though we've severed things and come back to each other a few times, the feelings never died."

"It was my fault, calling for the split during our last quarrel. This time, I want to make my confession and come back to him. Can the two of you help me?"

If I hadn't lived through my past life, I might have declared on the spot that Dominic loved me, that no oath in the world would bring him back to her. I would have told her to give up.

But because of everything I endured in my past life, I knew with cold certainty how deeply Dominic cared for her. They were meant to be bound. The way two old families fold into one.

"Sure, that's no trouble at all. Honestly, anyone with eyes can see Dominic still carries something for you. You make your confession, it'll work out," Lorenzo answered, flat and easy, as though arranging a sit-down between friendly houses.

A smile of confidence spread across Bianca's face as she looked at me with an air of triumph.

I remained indifferent, not taking it to heart.

Two days later, Lorenzo and Dominic's men had staged the perfect confession. They all agreed that the truth of a man's heart showed in moments of danger, so the plan was to take everyone out to a mountain stream for whitewater rafting, far from the watchful eyes of the city and its territories.

When we reached the place, I tried to refuse, since I'd never learned to swim, but Bianca seized my hand and insisted I climb onto the raft with them.

Bianca was terrified of the water and clung to Dominic like he was the only solid thing in the world.

Lorenzo, reading the unspoken arrangement, stepped aside to give them room and settled beside me.

As the raft slid down the current, Bianca was so frightened she practically threw herself against Dominic.

Instead of pushing her off, he patted her back and murmured, "Don't be scared. I'm here."

His voice was incredibly soft, incredibly patient, the way a man gentles a frightened child.

For a fleeting moment, I was carried back to the early days of our blood-bound arrangement in my past life.

Back then, I was full of hope for the life we'd build behind closed doors. I took every detail of our hidden household onto my own shoulders, believing my work would make him feel the warmth of a family no famiglia could give him.

But one night, after I'd collected him from a drunken evening with his soldiers, I overheard him pouring himself out to Bianca.

In his stupor, he muttered, "I feel like I didn't take a woman of my own. I took a nanny. She has to control everything, never stops nagging. I don't even want to come home anymore."

"You, though. You're so much easier. You know when to leave a man his space. You never make me feel hemmed in."

Before I could finish swallowing the bitter memory, another raft lost control and slammed violently into ours, dragging me back to the present.

There was no time to react. The impact rocked us so hard I reached for Lorenzo to steady myself, but a different hand closed around my arm instead.

Before I understood what was happening, I was wrenched off balance and went into the stream with a loud splash.

The icy water flooded my mouth and throat, and I came up gasping, struggling frantically against the current.

Through the haze of my panic, I caught a glimpse of Dominic going off the raft into the water.

For one brief moment, hope flickered in my heart. I waved my arms, desperate for him to see me.

But I watched, with crushing clarity, as he cut straight past me without hesitation, swimming for Bianca.

Adriana, what are you still hoping for?

I wanted to laugh at myself, but I couldn't even find the strength.

Thank God, Lorenzo reached me in time and hauled me back to the bank.

As I caught my breath, still shaking from it, he said, "The confession's all set. Come watch the show."

He took my hand and led me up to the grass.

On the lawn, Dominic's men had laid out an enormous heart made of fresh flowers. Inside it sat the relics of their history: handwritten letters, photographs of the two of them, the gifts traded across years of feast days and birthdays.

Dominic stood there, soaked through, visibly stunned as he took it all in.

Bianca, a bouquet cradled in her arms, stepped in front of him and began to pour out her heart, confessing her love.

A gentle wind swept past, stirring ripples across the still water of my heart.

I told myself they loved each other, that the two of them bound together was the cleanest arrangement of all.

When the cheers and shouts from the crowd urging him to take her grew louder, I joined in, clapping, calling out with them, "Say yes! Be together!"

Dominic turned to me. The signet ring on his finger went still beneath his thumb, his hand frozen against it, and his face was one of utter disbelief.

"Adriana, are you out of your mind? Did you forget that I'm your man?" he said.