He Drowned Our Four Babies For Her

For years I believed a rival family had stolen my children.

Four of them. Two baby boys, and three days ago, my newborn twins.

Tonight, crouched outside my husband's door, I learned the truth. He threw every one of them into the sea himself.

I had come down to the basement looking for Orso. The door to the back room sat open a crack, and through it I saw my husband — the man who swore he'd die before he let anyone touch me — kissing another woman.

"So you really took care of the little problem?" the woman asked. Her voice was soft, almost teasing.

It was Renata. Orso's first love. The woman he once told me had died in a gang war years ago.

Orso laughed low. "Of course, baby. For you and our son, there's nothing I won't do."

"But they were your blood too."

"Blood?" He spat the word. "Saveria's a fool. She actually thinks I love her. If I didn't need the old man's trust to take over the Aleria family, I'd never have touched her."

I pressed a hand over my mouth. My nails dug into my palm until it broke skin. I didn't feel it.

Three days ago I had given birth to twins. A boy and a girl. I nearly died doing it.

Orso had held me, covered in my blood, and cried like a child. He said they were the best gift God ever gave him.

That same night he stumbled into my room, his shirt torn, and told me a rival family had ambushed the car and taken both babies. He chased them, he said. He watched the car go off the cliff into the water.

I believed him. I screamed until I passed out.

I believed him the first time too. And the second.

My first son. My second son. Both "taken" the same way, both barely a month old. Both times Orso wept at my bedside. Both times he swore revenge and vanished for days. Both times he came home with a name and a head, proof that he'd made them pay.

He never made anyone pay. There was no rival family. There was only him.

"You should've seen it." Orso's voice turned bright, almost excited. "I dropped both incubators off the cliff myself. Didn't even blink. Listened to them hit the water and felt nothing but relief. Now the only heir left to the Aleria name is our boy."

The basement went quiet.

I'm the old don's only daughter. The real Aleria blood runs through me, not Orso. He married in. As long as I had a single living child, that child came before anyone — and Renata's son was nothing.

So every child I gave him had to die.

People say that the moment a woman stops being a fool for love, she finally gets smart. They're right.

I didn't burst in screaming. I didn't claw at the door. In this world, tears are the most useless thing a person can spend.

Orso controlled most of the family's guns. If I showed him my face now, I wouldn't get revenge. I'd get a bullet.

I breathed in slow and pushed it all down behind my eyes.

Wait for me, babies. Mama is going to make him pay.

I slipped back through the passage to the master bedroom, wiped the blood off my palm, and climbed into bed.

Ten minutes later the door opened. Orso walked in, still carrying the cold of the basement and the faint smell of Renata's perfume.

"Saveria. You're awake?" He crossed to the bed, eyes already red, and took my hand. "I'm sorry. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect our children."

I almost laughed.

"Don't blame yourself, Orso," I said softly. "It wasn't your fault. It was those people. The ones who took them."

He blinked, like he hadn't expected me to be this calm.

"I'm just tired." I closed my eyes. "I've been thinking. We're still young. We can have more children."

He let out a breath and pulled me against him, kissing my forehead.

"We will. I'll be right here until you're better."

I rested against his shoulder and looked at the cross on the wall.

Orso, you're already a dead man.