The Underboss’s Abandoned Bride

"I have to get back to court," he added quickly. "There's a vendetta snatch job involving a pregnant woman who was stabbed. The prosecution is pressing charges."

As his gaze landed on me, he paused briefly before glancing at Dante.

"Hey," he said casually, "did she already give birth?"

That question seemed to snap Dante back to reality. Panic flooded his eyes as he grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

"Bianca, you had the baby, right?" he said urgently. "Don't scare me like this!"

Dante's questions came rushing out one after another, his voice trembling as his hands gripped my shoulders tightly. He shook me as if trying to force an answer out of me, his face filled with panic and desperation, as though he had just realized something he could no longer control.

But while he panicked, my heart felt like it was being torn apart all over again. The pain inside me ran just as deep, only quieter, heavier, suffocating.

I could still feel it so clearly, as if it were happening again in that very moment. The cold blade plunging into my stomach, the violent, tearing pain that followed, and the horrifying sensation of my baby slipping away from me.

That memory was carved into my mind, raw and vivid, something I would never be able to forget. It replayed again and again, each time bringing with it the same unbearable agony.

I had never felt hatred like this before. It wasn't just anger. It was something darker, something that consumed everything inside me.

If only he had answered the phone. If only he had spared me even a moment of his time. If only he had sensed that I needed him, just once.

Then maybe… just maybe… our baby would still be alive.

Now, looking at Dante and Luca standing in front of me, their faces filled with guilt and confusion, I felt nothing but disgust rising within me. The foyer of the house we'd shared was still and cold, the two soldiers posted by the front door staring straight ahead as if they'd been trained not to hear a word. They had been. That was how the Falcone household worked. You heard nothing. You saw nothing. You carried it to the grave.

"The baby is gone," I said, my voice flat and emotionless. "Not just mine. Adriana's too."

I paused briefly, letting the weight of my words sink in. "She had just found out she was one month pregnant. I told both of you. But you didn't listen."

"There's nothing left to say anymore," I continued quietly. "I want the separation. The alliance is done."

Dante staggered backward as if struck, disbelief flooding his expression. His lips trembled as he muttered, "So… you weren't trying to scare me. The baby… our baby is really gone…"

But then, as if refusing to accept reality, he suddenly snapped. His face twisted with anger as he shouted, "Bianca, you're not even human!"

"The baby was eight months along!" he continued, his voice rising uncontrollably. "And you just decided to get rid of it out of spite? She was fully formed!"

"Are you insane?" he roared. "How could you kill our child? Come with me to the police station. You have to pay for this!"

The room went very still. One of the soldiers by the door shifted his weight, then caught himself. Nobody moved.

A bitter smile slowly formed on my lips as I looked at him. There was sadness in it, but also something cold, something hollow. My thumb rubbed the pale band of skin where my wedding ring had sat, back and forth, the only motion in my body that I couldn't seem to stop.

"If you want to talk about killers," I said calmly, "you should look at yourself. And Viviana."

"I was attacked because of a surgery you performed," I continued, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "A clandestine operation. It was revenge for a life you couldn't save on that table."

"They found me because of you," I said. "They beat me. They kicked me. They stabbed a knife into my stomach."

"And you call me inhuman?"

I took a step closer, my gaze locking onto his. "Do you know who led them to me?"

"It was your dear 'sister,' Viviana," I said coldly. "She told them that snatching me would get your attention."

"So tell me," I pressed, my voice trembling slightly, "who really killed our child?"

My voice shook under the weight of everything I had endured. "Do you think anyone feels this loss more than I do?"

Dante didn't answer. His hand had drifted to his wrist, his thumb dragging once across the face of his watch, but whatever truth he was measuring stayed locked behind his teeth.

"No… no, it wasn't me…" Viviana stammered, her face turning pale as she tried to defend herself. Her voice faltered, her usual composure slipping. One hand curled at her side, a fingernail pressing hard into the pad of her thumb until the skin blanched white.

Before she could say more, Luca suddenly turned toward me, cutting her off.