I was nine months pregnant then. I lost my baby and had eighteen stitches.
So two years ago, when I almost died, my husband was binding himself to someone else, which made him too busy to save me.
My chest clenched so violently, I couldn't sit still.
I stood up, but the ground spun. My knees gave out. I hit the floor, sobbing, gasping for air.
"No… it can't be."
The consigliere rushed to my side.
"Miss, are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?"
His voice echoed like it was underwater.
I curled into myself, rocking back and forth. My nails digging into my arms. The pain was suffocating. The room smelled of old paper and polished wood and none of it was real, none of the four years had been real, and the floor was cold against my cheek the way the restroom floor had been cold, the way the pavement had been cold the night they threw me from the car.
"No, it can't be. No, it can't be. No, no, no—"
Liliana's POV
I don't know how long I cried on the floor of the consigliere's office, curled up like a ball, but when I finally stood up, I wiped my tears and sighed.
It couldn't get any worse than this. My marriage of four years to Giacomo Russo had been nothing but a farce.
I wanted to scream at him and ask why he would do such wickedness to me. Why tie me down for fifteen years?
Fifteen years ago, I moved into the Russo compound to take care of them after they lost their parents and their sister in a car bombing. I had been their closest friend and they asked me to live with them. For years I helped them heal. I woke Pietro up when he screamed from the nightmares of the explosion, the smell of burning metal still clinging to his skin.
When we became adults I fell in love with Giacomo and he said he loved me back. He married me shortly after, and like a fool I happily did whatever I could to keep making them happy.
Even when Nadina came into the picture a year after my marriage, I hadn't been bothered. Nadina had been my best friend in college. My childhood friend. She was my bridesmaid. She'd never harm me. But I was so wrong.
The three of them hurt me in a way that I couldn't even think about it fully without losing my breath.
What did I ever do to deserve this? Why didn't he just tell me he never loved me? Why go through all this hell just to ruin me?
"Miss, should I call someone for you? Hospital? Police? A friend?" The consigliere's voice broke through my thoughts.