The Five Graves He Built for Love

I looked at him in disbelief, as if seeing him for the first time. My voice cracked as I pointed at Adriana, my vision blurred with tears.

"My retribution? The ones who truly deserve retribution are you!"

I took a shaky breath, my entire body trembling with rage. "Dominic, do you dare to tell me why my children—who were perfectly healthy inside me—were all born stillborn? And what did you do with their bodies?!"

Dominic's brows furrowed, a flicker of impatience in his expression. The signet ring turned slow and idle around his finger. "Your health was always weak, Gemma. The children suffered because of that. Their deaths were inevitable—you just didn't realize it when you were pregnant. They were buried the way the Family buries its own. Why are you dragging up these meaningless things now? Apologize to Adriana."

I stared at him, my heart hollow, my hands numb at my sides.

I knew. Deep down, I knew this was the answer I would get. But why did it still hurt so much?

My fingers clenched into fists before loosening. Slowly, I bent down and picked up a shard of broken glass from the marble at my feet. Without hesitation, I brought it to my left hand and, in one swift motion, sliced off my pinky finger.

Blood spurted out instantly, splattering onto the cold marble floor of the estate.

"Gemma!" Dominic's voice was sharp with alarm.

I lifted my gaze to meet his, my lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Dominic, you're right. Dr. Colombo's hands are meant to shine over the Family's operating table. Since her palm is wounded, I'll compensate her with a finger. Is that enough?"

The crimson pooled at my feet as I turned away, stepping over the blood like it meant nothing. Dominic hesitated. For a moment, just a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But then Adriana whimpered and clung to him, her tear-filled voice breaking through the silence.

"Dominic, my hand hurts..."

Her fingers drifted to the pendant at her throat, and the mask reset. His hesitation vanished. He let me go.

As I sat in the private ward of the Family's physician, my phone vibrated with an incoming call from Dominic.

"Cara, how's your hand? Don't worry, Adriana's hand is fine. Tonight was my fault. I know you've always blamed yourself for the children's deaths, and I shouldn't have said those things."

I remained silent, my fingers tightening around my phone. In the palm of my ruined hand, I pressed the raw stump of the pinky against my own skin until the pain steadied me.

"But I gave my word to my mother that I'd see this alliance marriage through. It's only for show, but if I delay the date, the whole house takes it as an insult. She's getting old, her health isn't the best. I'm worried..."

"I'm fine," I cut him off, my voice calm, detached. "Take good care of her. Don't let your mother worry."

Dominic chuckled softly. "Silly cara, what do you mean, 'your mother'? She's our mother. Don't worry, one day I'll make the Family recognize you by blood."

There was a warmth in his voice, as if he truly believed his own words.

"The day after tomorrow, I sail across the sea for the ceremony. Tomorrow, I'll come home and bring you something to eat. Be good, alright?"

I didn't answer. Instead, my gaze drifted to the open door beside me, where a television murmured the evening report over the city's territory.

[Word on the street: the Don of the Falcone Family spares nothing for his woman. For a small cut to her hand, he summoned the finest physicians across three states overnight. To lift her spirits, he laid down three hundred million in laundered cash at a private auction for a jade heirloom once owned by an old-world noblewoman.]

The screen cut to Adriana, smiling coyly as men from the allied press crowded her. The words ran bold across the bottom: The Most Adored Woman in the World.

I turned to the physician standing beside me. "I'm ready." Even with the anesthesia, I felt the instruments scraping away at my insides, hollowing me out once more. I had lost another child. When I left through the back entrance, my arms wrapped around my empty stomach, tears slipped down my cheeks, silent and endless.

Baby, I'm sorry. In your next life, don't choose me as your mother.

The next day, Dominic didn't come home. Instead, he called.

"Gemma, I'm sorry. I truly wanted to be with you today, but my mother suddenly wasn't feeling well. As her son, I have to stand at her side."

I glanced down at my phone, my lips curling into a humorless smile. A minute earlier, Adriana had posted to her feed for all the allied houses to see.

In the photo, she sat on a plush hotel bed, draped in a silk robe. Dominic knelt at her feet, bare-chested, his hands gently working her ankles, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still parted, as if she had just been thoroughly ravished.

Clothes were strewn across the floor, a telltale sign of the passion they had shared moments before. I closed my phone and took a deep breath. Without hesitation, I gathered everything I owned and set it ablaze. The fire roared, devouring every trace of my existence in his life. The past seven years, the love I had given him, the pain I had endured—it all turned to ash before my eyes.

At dawn, I arrived at the airfield. Just as I was about to board, my phone buzzed with a new message from Dominic.

"Gemma, are you up yet? Don't forget to eat. I can't bear to be away from you—I miss you so much."

"Be good and wait for your husband at home. When I come back, I'll bring you a gift. I miss your lips. If only I could kiss them now."

I lifted my eyes and looked across the terminal. Not far from me, Dominic held Adriana in his arms, kissing her deeply, even as his fingers moved effortlessly over his phone screen to send me that message.

How impressive. It must have been exhausting, keeping up such an act. I didn't bother replying. Instead, I gathered the photos and messages stored on my phone, compiled them into a single file, and set them to be sent to Dominic's private line. Then, without hesitation, I turned and walked toward the boarding gate—one that led to a destination far from his.

Meanwhile, Dominic arrived at the lavish banquet hall across the sea. His mother and a room full of esteemed guests from the allied families were already gathered, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Frowning, he checked his phone again. Still no reply from me. A strange unease settled in his chest.

After a moment of thought, he summoned his attendant.

"Book passage for the Madam to arrive here tomorrow. She must be lonely at home without me."

It was a calculated move. By the time she arrived, the alliance would be sealed. Even if she wanted to make a scene, it would be too late.

Holding Adriana's hand, he stepped toward the dais just as his attendant came rushing forward, face pale, phone clutched tightly in trembling hands.

"Don Falcone! There's a serious problem! The Madam—she found out everything about the children!"

Dominic's breath caught. The signet ring stopped turning. His hand went perfectly still. "What are you talking about?"

The attendant swallowed before continuing, his voice shaking. "A few hours ago, she boarded a flight to another country. And just now, word came through—the plane went down."