Chapter 2

Dante and I had never been meant to marry.

Years ago, he had been drugged at a family gathering, and we had ended up in bed together.

I knew he was in love with Lucia, so I had never intended to force him into marriage.

But the elders of the Vitale family looked down on Lucia because she'd supposedly grown up without a proper family.

They saw her as an embarrassment and used what had happened between Dante and me to pressure the Falcones into accepting the marriage.

Dante had no choice but to marry me.

I'd loved him since I was a teenager. Back then, I'd thought marrying him would be the happiest day of my life.

I never imagined it would become the beginning of my nightmare.

All it had taken was one complaint from Lucia. One little remark that she'd been upset by something I'd supposedly said.

And my husband and my brother had sent me to a place where people could do whatever they wanted to me.

For over a year, I'd lived through a kind of hell I'd never known existed.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the bitterness inside me, and nodded faintly.

"Mr. Vitale, I won't speak disrespectfully to Lucia again. I won't do anything to upset either of you."

Dante glanced at me, apparently satisfied with my answer.

I hesitated before speaking again. "If it's possible, could we get divorced once we're back?"

His expression darkened. "That's enough, Isabella. What is that supposed to mean?"

He scoffed. "You expect me to believe you actually want a divorce? You're Isabella Falcone. You've spent your whole life getting whatever you want."

He looked me up and down with open contempt. "Or is this another stunt to make Lucia look bad? You really are vicious. It's disgusting."

"No. That's not what I meant. I'm serious."

I tried to explain, but a sudden, agonizing pain seized my lower abdomen.

I clutched my stomach, curling forward as my body began to shake.

Dante noticed and frowned. "Once or twice is enough. Keep pulling this crap, and it gets old fast."

My face had gone deathly pale.

"Please... could you stop the car for a minute?"

"What are you trying to pull now?"

"Please, Dante. Just stop..."

He ignored me and closed his eyes, shutting me out as though I didn't exist.

I couldn't hold on any longer.

Warm liquid ran down my legs, followed by the unmistakable sight of blood. The sour smell quickly spread through the car.

I covered my face, overwhelmed by shame.

After fourteen months in Scampia, I'd lost nearly every shred of dignity I once had. I could barely recognize the person I'd become.

Dante noticed the smell and recoiled.

Then his polished shoe slammed into my side.

"God, Isabella! You're disgusting. Couldn't you even control yourself?"

The revulsion in his eyes was exactly the same as what I'd seen on the faces of the men in Scampia.

Somehow, seeing it on my husband's face hurt even more.

I curled into myself, whispering the only words that came naturally anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Dante looked ready to continue berating me, but the driver finally spoke up.

"Sir, perhaps we should get back to the estate. Something's wrong with Miss Lucia."

Only then did Dante notice the blood seeping through the fabric where he'd kicked me.

He stared at it for a moment.

For once, he said nothing.

We drove the rest of the way in silence.

When we arrived at the Vitale estate, Lucia was lounging on the living room sofa, playing a video game.

The moment she saw me, she dropped the controller and hurried behind Dante.

"Dante..." Her voice trembled. "Isabella's back. Is she going to be angry with me?"

She lowered her eyes, looking as though she were struggling to hold back tears.

"I never meant to take her place. I didn't ask to live here. Please don't let her yell at me."

Dante immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's all right, Lucia. You have nothing to be afraid of. She knows better than to lay a finger on you now."

Then he turned toward me, his expression hardening.

"Isabella, you'd better remember your place. You don't get to dictate who lives in this house."

His voice dropped. "If you so much as try to bully Lucia again, I swear you'll regret it."

I almost laughed. I'd never done any of the things Lucia accused me of.

Ever since she came into our lives, she'd made a habit of crying in front of other people and claiming I'd hurt her.

A broken vase, a missing necklace, a bad day—somehow, I was always responsible.

And everyone always believed her.

I'd grown used to it.

But now, I didn't even have the strength to defend myself.

I lowered myself to my knees in front of them.

"I'm sorry. Everything was my fault. I shouldn't have wanted something that was never mine to begin with."

"Stop pretending to be pathetic!" Dante kicked me in the chest.

I hit the floor hard, and the room went dark around the edges.

"Don't think you can manipulate me by acting like a victim. I will never forgive you for what you've done!"

"Dante, she's frightening me!" Lucia clung to him, trembling as though I were some kind of monster. "Please, don't let her hurt me!"

I lay on the floor, unable to move, while they continued to humiliate me.

Fourteen months of relentless cruelty had ground my dignity into dust.

I'd reached the point where I sometimes wondered whether I really did deserve all of this.

Dante glanced at the bodyguards. "Take her down to the wine cellar."

He waved his hand dismissively, as if ordering someone to remove a piece of trash.

Two guards seized my arms and dragged me away.

I didn't resist.

There was nothing left in me to fight with.