Chapter1
"You've destroyed Chris's hope of becoming a father, so you'll repay it with your own life!"
A resounding slap landed heavily on the side of my face. My head snapped to the side, the corner of my mouth splitting and bleeding. Covering my burning cheek, I stared in disbelief at the woman before me—my wife, Rosa Benedetti. Dressed in a sharply tailored black haute couture suit, she looked down on me as if I were a piece of disgusting trash.
"Alex! How vile can you be, hiring street thugs to maim your own brother!" Her voice was icy with suppressed rage. "Chris was beaten trying to fight them off... The doctor said his reproductive system suffered irreversible damage. He can never have children in this lifetime!"
My mind went blank.
"What? I didn't—"
Before I could finish, the study door opened.
My father, Giovanni, helped a frail-looking Chris inside, with our mother, Carmela, close behind. My twin brother's face was pale as he leaned weakly on our father's shoulder, his eyes—identical to mine—red and swollen with tears.
But I caught the precise details—his fingers clutching our father's arm, nails perfectly manicured, with no signs of the breakage or grime from a supposed struggle. Though he pretended to be unsteady, his footing was solid, nothing like someone with serious abdominal injuries.
"Alex..." Chris burst into tears the moment he saw me. "Why... we're brothers who share the same blood..."
He clutched his abdomen, curling his tall frame in pain. "I know you've been jealous of me since we were kids... but I never thought you'd..."
"That's not true! Chris, I didn't do anything!" I took an urgent step forward, wanting to reach for him.
"Don't touch him!"
Our mother, Carmela, rushed forward and shoved me hard. I was already weak; stumbling backward, my back slammed heavily into the mahogany bookshelf.
"You heartless monster!" Mother's shrill voice pierced my eardrums. "Twenty-five years ago, I nearly died on the operating table from massive hemorrhaging giving birth to you! I always knew you were born to bring us misfortune!"
"Mom..." My throat felt stuffed with broken glass. "I swear I didn't do it! I swear!"
My father, Giovanni, couldn't even spare me a glance, fiercely protecting Chris in his arms, his tone as cold as if addressing an enemy. "Alex, you've disappointed me too much. Had I known, I should have had the doctor strangle you in the delivery room back then!"
His words were like a rusty dagger, stabbing into my heart and cruelly twisting.
Rosa strode forward, grabbed my collar, her powerful grip nearly choking me. "Why would you do this? Was the power I gave you not enough? Was I not good enough to you? Why can't you tolerate Chris?!"
In that moment, in her deep eyes, I saw rage, disappointment, and something I had never seen before—undisguised loathing.
She let go, letting me fall to the floor as if touching me for another second would dirty her hands.
"There's a doctor in the black market who developed a new cellular repair serum, claiming it can reshape damaged organs." Rosa wiped her fingers, her voice cold as she pronounced my sentence. "But the drug is in the experimental stage; the fatality rate is unknown. Chris's body can't withstand any more torment."
She looked down at me, her eyes like those judging a condemned man. "So, you will take the test for him. Two weeks. It's what you owe him."
"If you dare refuse, we divorce. I will ensure the Vitale family is completely erased from Valentea."
I looked up, despairingly, at this woman who had once held me in her arms, kissed my forehead, and promised to protect me for life.
"Rosa, don't force Alex..." Chris sobbed hoarsely. "Maybe he just lost his head for a moment... Maybe it's because I went abroad two years ago and broke his heart, that he hates me so much now..."
Father patted his back. "My good son, the rot is in his bones. It's not your fault."
I sat slumped on the cold marble floor, my heart turning to ash.
None of them could possibly know—just three days ago, my personal doctor, with a trembling voice, told me: I had been chronically poisoned with high concentrations of arsenic. The toxins had eroded my organs. I had, at most, a month left to live.
In that moment, my world completely collapsed. I had fantasized that in the final countdown of my life, I could hold Rosa by the fireplace and say a proper goodbye. I had even dared to hope that maybe, in my last moments, my parents might, out of guilt, give me a brief embrace.
But now, it was all a joke.
Since I only had a month left anyway, what did two more weeks of inhuman torment matter?
"Fine." I slowly pushed myself up with my arms, my voice as dead as a dry well. "I agree. I'll go."
The moment I said it, I clearly caught the fleeting, triumphant smirk that Chris hid against our father's shoulder.
Rosa looked at me, a flicker of something complex, barely perceptible, crossing her eyes. But that emotion vanished instantly. She turned to Chris, reaching out to stroke his hair, her tone holding the tenderness I had once enjoyed exclusively. "Chris, don't be afraid. You'll be healed soon, I promise."
My home, my wife, the harbor I thought I had.
It was all a mirage.
Dragging my heavy steps, I turned towards the door. Every breath of air here suffocated me.
Just as I touched the doorknob, a powerful force seized my wrist. Rosa.
My heart still betrayed me with a frantic leap. I turned, a last pathetic flicker of hope igniting in my eyes. Maybe... she saw through it? Maybe she wanted to say she believed me?
