The Don's Hidden Heiress: Last Week Alive

The door swung open.

"Stop!"

Roberto rushed in and snatched the gun from my hand. He was so fast that I didn't even see how he'd managed to do it.

He hurled the gun into the corner, and it hit the carpet with a dull thud.

"Are you out of your mind?" he screamed. His grip on my shoulders was so tight it hurt. "Eva, look at me! Look at me!"

I lifted my head. Roberto's face showed an expression I had never seen before. There was panic, fury, and something more complicated beneath—pain.

"Why?"

His voice shook. "Why would you do this?"

I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell him about the poisoned wine and how I only had six days left. But only broken sobs came out.

The tears finally spilled over. "I… I didn't do anything… Emanuela said I stole her jewelry and tried to seduce Benedetto. She even said that I drugged Alessandro's drink. I didn't do any of it. Why won't any of you believe me?"

Roberto pulled me into his arms.

It was the first time in five years anyone had held me.

His embrace was warm. He smelled like antiseptic with a hint of woody cologne. I froze, then clung to his lab coat as if I were a drowning woman grabbing onto driftwood.

"I believe you," he whispered into my ear. "Eva, I believe you."

"Really?"

"Really." He let me go, cupped my face in both hands, and brushed away my tears with his thumbs. "Listen to me. You can't die. You have to live until the truth comes out."

His eyes were soft in the low light. For one brief moment, I believed him.

"But…" I began, reminded of the poisoned wine. "There isn't much time left…"

"What do you mean?"

I shook my head. I couldn't tell him. What was there to explain? That I had fought for five years, only to lose to Emanuela and end up drinking poison?

I lowered my gaze. "It's nothing. I'm just… tired."

Roberto sighed and guided me to the bed. He opened a medical kit and prepared a sedative with practiced ease. "You need rest. Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

The needle barely hurt. The medication worked fast. My consciousness started to slip away.

Through the haze, I heard Roberto on the phone.

"Yes. She's extremely unstable. She needs to be isolated and observed. I'll handle it."

I wanted to ask who he was talking to, but my eyelids were too heavy.

Just before I slipped away, I felt his hand gently brush through my hair.

"Sleep well, Eva," his voice echoed faintly. "I'll protect you."

…

When I woke up, I wasn't in my usual room.

The ceiling was an unfamiliar off-white. The walls matched. The space held only a bed, a nightstand, and a chair. There were no windows. Just a heavy iron door.

I sat up abruptly. Dizziness crashed over me.

"You're awake."

Roberto's voice came from the corner. He sat in the chair and had a medical file in his hands.

"Where is this?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"The family sanatorium," he said, closing the file. "It's a… quieter floor. You need peace, Eva."

My heart started racing as I looked around. "The sanatorium? Why did you bring me here?"

"Did you forget what happened last night?"

Roberto moved to the bed and sat on the edge. "You tried to kill yourself. Twice. Once at the river, and another time with a gun. According to family protocol, anyone with severe self-destructive tendencies must be placed under protective custody."

"Protective custody…" I repeated, the words clicking into place. "This was Emanuela's idea, wasn't it?"

Roberto's expression froze.

"She's worried about you," he said, averting his gaze.

"Worried?" I snorted. "She wants me gone, Roberto. You know that. You know exactly how she is!"