The master bedroom was dim, the air thick with tension. Dr. Ricci was packing his bag, his movements jerky and frantic. Everyone looked nervous around Dante, but Ricci looked like a man facing a firing squad.

I scanned the room. I didn't see Giulia.

Dante was standing by the window, his back to me, looking out at the sprawling lawn. He was wearing his suit, the fabric still crisp, though his tie was loosened at the collar. He didn't look like a husband keeping vigil at his sick wife's bedside. He looked like a CEO inconvenienced by a minor logistical error.

"Giulia is banned from the estate," he said, not turning around.

"Why?" My voice was little more than a dry croak.

"She was hysterical. Screaming lies. Disrespecting me in front of my men."

He turned then. His face was hewn from granite, impenetrable and cold.

"She said you're dying, Elena. Is that the new game? You pay Ricci to fake a report? You collapse in a parking lot to get my attention because I missed dinner?"

I looked at Dr. Ricci. He wouldn't meet my eyes. He focused intently on the latch of his medical bag. Dante paid his salary. Dante owned his practice. If Dante wanted the medical report to be a blank page, Ricci would burn the real one without hesitation.

"I am not playing games," I whispered.

Dante walked over to the bed. He loomed over me, stealing the remaining light from the room.

"You are malnourished. You are stressed. That is what the doctor said. You need to eat. You need to stop obsessing over Sienna."

The door clicked open.

Sienna walked in. She was wearing a cashmere sweater that cost more than my father's car, soft and pristine against her glowing skin. She held a tray of soup.

"I heard you weren't feeling well," she said. Her voice was pure syrup-sweet, cloying, and poisonous. "I told Dante we should check on you. Poor thing."

She walked to Dante's side and placed a hand on his arm. He didn't shake it off. He leaned into it slightly. A reflex. A habit.

"Get out," I said.

"Elena, be polite," Dante warned, his tone dropping an octave.

"She is a whore, Dante. She is sleeping in my house. She is carrying the child you promised me. And you bring her into my bedroom?"

Sienna's eyes welled up with instant, practiced tears. She looked at Dante, trembling perfectly.

"I was just trying to help," she sniffled. "I know she's jealous, Dante, but I didn't mean to upset her. The baby... I can feel the stress."

Dante's expression darkened. He grabbed Sienna's waist, pulling her protectively against his side.

"Enough, Elena. You are toxic. This house is supposed to be a sanctuary, and you are filling it with venom."

"My venom?" I laughed, but the sound fractured into a cough that rattled deep in my chest. "You promised me, Dante. You said, 'Wherever you are, that is my home.'"

"That was before you became this," he spat, gesturing to my frail body on the bed. "Bitter. Ungrateful."

Sienna smirked. It was quick, hidden behind Dante's shoulder, but I saw it. She looked around the room, her eyes lingering on my vanity, my wedding photo.

"It's a bit drafty in here," she said softly. "Maybe we should move her to the guest wing? It's warmer. And closer to the nurses."

She was trying to evict me from my own marriage bed.

I sat up. The adrenaline spiked through the morphine haze, giving me a fleeting burst of strength. I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. I swayed, the room tilting on its axis, but I stayed upright.

I walked up to her. She widened her eyes, playing the victim to perfection.

I slapped her.

It wasn't a strong slap-I was too weak-but it was enough to leave a red mark on her perfect, powdered cheek.

"You will never be me," I hissed.

Sienna cried out, clutching her face like I had stabbed her.

Dante moved instantly. He shoved me.

He didn't mean to hurt me, perhaps. He just wanted to separate us. But I was a ghost of a woman, brittle and light. I flew back, hitting the wall hard. I slid down to the floor, gasping for air as pain exploded in my ribs.

Dante didn't check on me. He wrapped his arms around Sienna, his hands covering her stomach.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice frantic. "The baby?"

"She's crazy!" Sienna sobbed into his chest. "She tried to kill the heir!"

Dante looked at me. There was no love in his eyes. Only disgust.

"Stay in this room," he ordered. "If you touch her again, Elena, I will forget who you are."

Chapter 3

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