The Don's Revenge Bride

Martina suddenly cut in, saying, "Drink it, Chiara. Stop making it hard for everyone. Look, Dante and Enzo both drank for you. Surely the Lucchese family's women aren't this cowardly."

In that moment, everything that happened after she arrived came rushing back to me.

When Martina first came to the family, she 'accidentally' spilled hot soup on my hand. I got burned, and Dante's first reaction was to check if Martina had gotten splashed.

"Are you okay?" he had asked her, without even glancing at my red, swollen hand.

Two weeks later, Martina 'borrowed' the only thing my mother had left me, a silver necklace, and then claimed she lost it.

When I begged Enzo to help me find it, he just sighed. "It's just a necklace. I can buy you ten more. Don't ruin relationships over something so trivial."

A month ago, Martina put laxatives in my dinner. I got so dehydrated from the diarrhea that I nearly passed out. When Dante found out, he actually blamed me.

"You know you have a weak stomach, so why were you not more careful? Martina just took the joke too far."

Every single time, their favoritism was so blatant and unquestioned. It was as if Martina's happiness mattered more than my suffering, and her feelings were more precious than my dignity.

Now, for the sake of that favoritism, they wanted me to drink actual poison.

"Fine. I'll drink it."

My voice was so calm it surprised even me.

Under Dante's stunned stare, Enzo's widened eyes, and Martina's triumphant smile, I tilted my head back and swallowed the entire glass of poison.

The searing pain made me curl up, but the guards still held me down.

Enzo rushed forward to help me, but Martina grabbed his arm. "Enzo, be careful! She's coughing up blood. Don't get it on your suit!"

Enzo froze. He looked at Martina's hand gripping his arm, then at me convulsing on the floor. Then, he chose to stay where he was.

Before the world went dark, I heard Enzo's cold voice. "Take her to the infirmary. Don't let her die in the banquet hall."

Martina added softly, saying, "Poor Chiara. I hope she pulls through."

...

When I woke up in the infirmary bed, it was already the third night. The doctor said I had permanent vocal cord damage and severe burns to my stomach lining. I would need medication for the rest of my life to maintain digestive function.

Dante was sitting by the bed holding a cup of water, bringing the straw to my lips.

He said softly, "Drink some water. I added painkillers and medication for repairing the mucous membrane."

"What about the antidote? Didn't you say it was ready?" My voice was terrifyingly hoarse.

"Father said..." Dante paused. "True loyalty needs to be proven through suffering. The antidote would weaken the test's effectiveness."

I closed my eyes, feeling the warm tears sliding down my cheeks. I asked hoarsely, "How's Martina?"

Dante's expression softened. "She's been really worried about you. She's barely eaten these past two days, constantly praying for you."

Enzo chimed in, saying, "She wanted to visit yesterday, but we were afraid seeing you like this would upset her too much, so we didn't let her come."

Upset?

I almost laughed out loud. Martina was probably throwing a celebration party in her luxury suite right now.

Dante took my hand and said, "Martina formally apologized to Father, saying she might have been too nervous and her memory got fuzzy. Father is very satisfied with your performance this time. Once you're better, he'll officially remove the mark of betrayal from your shoulders and grant you full family status."

I stared at the ceiling and stayed silent for a long while.

Then, I let out a bitter laugh. "Family status because of my performance? It's because Martina no longer needs to torment me to prove her position, and because you've already secured Mr. Felix Browne's full cooperation, right?"

Dante's expression froze, while Enzo looked away.

Their silence, once again, said everything.

So that was it. Martina's bullying was never just a case of a young woman's jealousy.

It was a performance to show how important she was, that they would sacrifice me for her.

It was also a test to see how far their favoritism toward her could go.

Lastly, it was a transaction, trading my suffering for her sense of security and their proof of loyalty.

Enzo and Dante not only understood this game, but they also willingly became its players. In this game, I was the only one who lost.