The Don’s Veiled Rose

My voice trembled.

"It doesn't matter," he cut me off. "Scarlett, you need to remember that you are a Thorne. You must obey the rules here."

"You are my wife, the Donna. For my sake, you need to learn."

My mind went blank.

The phone slipped from my palm and clattered onto the cold marble floor.

So all my pain meant less to him than the Thorne family rules and Gianna.

It meant less than a single complaint from his mother.

The violent struggle had exhausted me. The chapel's damp coldness seeped into my bones.

Worse, the dragging pain in my lower abdomen grew more intense, like a rusty knife was twisting inside me.

Darkness swallowed me.

When I woke up, I was lying in the lavish but cold master bed of the Thorne estate.

The door was ajar, and Gianna's tearful voice drifted in from the hallway.

"Daemon, it's all my fault. If I hadn't called you away yesterday, Scarlett wouldn't have been punished by your mother."

Then, Daemon's voice followed.

It was a tone I had never heard from him before, one so gentle it seemed to drip with honey.

"Don't blame yourself, Gianna. This has nothing to do with you."

"Scarlett is untamable. This was just a small lesson for her. She was in the wrong. As the family's Donna, she shouldn't have gone to a place like that."

The dull ache in my abdomen was still there, and a chill ran through me.

I had almost lost our child, and to him, it was just a "small lesson."

Rage burned away my reason. I forced my weak body up and yanked the door open.

"If I'm so untamable, Don Thorne, why don't you just sign the divorce papers now?"

In the hallway, Daemon was gently handing a handkerchief to Gianna.

He froze at my words.

Then, he slowly turned and advanced toward me, step by step.

I instinctively tried to back away, but he seized the nape of my neck.

His palm was still warm and dry, his thumb stroking my cheek in a way that used to feel intimate.

But his eyes were a bottomless, icy chasm.

"Divorce?"

He let out a low laugh. "Principessa, that word doesn't exist in my vocabulary."

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear.

"It seems the cold wind in the chapel didn't clear your head. Are you going to keep making a scene?"

"Do you have any idea the trouble I went through to calm my mother down for you? Instead of being grateful, you test my limits with this foolishness?"

"Be a good girl."

He patted my cheek as if calming a pet.

"Don't waste your defiance testing my patience. The Thorne family name can't withstand you dragging it through the mud again and again."

I couldn't help but sneer. He was talking to me about reputation?

And him? Cozying up to his widowed sister-in-law in the hallway? Was that upholding the Thorne family name?

Seeing the scorn on my face, Daemon's eyes darkened, and he was about to speak.

Gianna quickly stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

"Daemon, don't be hard on Scarlett. She just woke up, she's still weak."

"Besides, she has a fiery temper. We should be more patient with her."

"I'll talk to her."

Daemon let her persuade him and went downstairs, his face grim.

She turned and took a wooden case from a nearby servant. Inside was an exquisitely crafted violin.

"Scarlett, I know you were wronged in the chapel. To cheer you up, I had a special gift prepared for you."

She came to me, her smile deceptively innocent. "I know you play the violin. So I took the liberty of having that old champion horse in your stables... put down."

"Its tail hair is of excellent quality, perfect for this bow."

"It couldn't run anymore anyway. Keeping it at the Thorne estate was just a waste of food, right?"

Meeting Gianna's innocent gaze, my mind went blank with a roar.

That was the first racehorse my late grandfather had ever given me. It was the start of my racing career, my spiritual anchor.

When I married into this family, my only condition was that I could bring him with me.

Daemon had promised he would ensure the horse was well cared for in its old age.

The humiliation I had suppressed for the past two days erupted. I stared at her, my eyes burning. "Who gave you permission to touch him!"

The innocent look on Gianna's face didn't waver, and was even tinged with confusion.

"Scarlett, what are you doing? It was just an old horse."

"The Thorne family has strict rules. We can't keep a retired racehorse at the estate, it's undignified. I was doing it for your own good, to stop Madre Elena from giving you a hard time again."

The Thorne family rules! The rules again!

They nearly killed my child, left me to freeze in a chapel, and now they had butchered the only living link to my past!

I shot to my feet and, with a guttural scream, slammed the violin case at Gianna's feet.

The case and the priceless antique violin shattered, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.

Gianna stumbled back in terror, her high heel twisted, and she lost her balance.

"Ah!"

She took a calculated step back, deliberately losing her footing.

She fell backward, and the back of her head hit the sharp marble corner of the fireplace.

Bright red blood immediately beaded along her hairline before trickling down to stain the white carpet.

Hearing the commotion, Daemon rushed back. When he saw Gianna on the floor, the blood beneath her, and me standing on the stairs, his eyes turned crimson with pure rage.

"Scarlett! Are you insane!"

He shoved me aside. "She's my sister, how dare you lay a hand on her!"

I clutched my stomach, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from my throat. "She killed my horse! She had him butchered for a goddamn violin bow! You think I shouldn't have hit her?"

"So what if she did? I approved it."

"I was the one who told her to get rid of that old horse. The Thorne estate has no need for useless things. Besides, you needed a violin, didn't you? She was doing it for you!"

I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning. My last line of defense crumbled.

When I first married him, I was afraid the Thorne family's strict rules would be a problem and hesitated to bring my horse. It was Daemon who promised me he would protect him.

Was it the Thorne family that couldn't tolerate him, or was it me they couldn't tolerate?

I opened my mouth, wanting to say we should get a divorce, wanting to say I hated him.

But on the floor, Gianna spoke weakly.

"Daemon, don't blame Scarlett, it was my fault... but it really hurts..."

Before she could finish, her eyes rolled back and she passed out at the perfect moment.

Daemon's pupils contracted. He immediately knelt, scooped her into his arms, and rushed for the door, not even sparing me a single glance.

At the family's private hospital, the light above the emergency room was on.

Daemon leaned against the pale corridor wall, his usually calm face was a mask of raw panic, his eyes bloodshot.

I stood a short distance away, a heavy weight in my chest making it hard to breathe.

The doctor came out, his expression grave.

"Don, Mrs. Gianna suffered a head injury and has lost a lot of blood. She needs an immediate transfusion."

"But she has a rare Rh-negative blood type. The blood bank is empty, and getting a supply from another hospital will take too long. I'm afraid she won't make it..."

Daemon was silent for a moment. Then he slowly turned his head, and his eyes locked onto me.

"So does Scarlett. Use hers."