Chapter 5

Seraphina POV:

Just as that flicker of doubt surfaces in Lorenzo's eyes, the hospital room door swings open. Isabella enters, leaning heavily on a nurse, feigning a weakness that makes my stomach clench.

"Enzo, don't," she says, her voice trembling, a flawless imitation of distress. She limps toward him, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, don't blame Seraphina. It was an accident. I'm sure she didn't mean it. She's just... emotional, because of the baby."

The mention of the baby is a masterstroke. It makes her seem compassionate while reminding Lorenzo of my "delicate" state.

He immediately pulls her into a protective embrace, his voice thick with possession. "You're not to leave my side again. Ever."

Then he turns to me, and the doubt in his eyes is gone, replaced by a blizzard of cold fury. "Your disobedience requires punishment, Seraphina."

My parents. The thought hits me like a physical blow. He's going to hurt them.

"No, Lorenzo, please!" I struggle to get out of the bed, but two of his Soldiers who had been standing guard outside the door step forward, pinning me to the mattress.

A demonic smile twists Lorenzo's lips. It's the face he wears when he's about to destroy a rival family, not the face he should ever show his wife. "Bring them in," he orders.

My parents, my sweet, gentle parents who know nothing of this brutal world, are dragged into the room. They are forced to their knees before him, their faces etched with confusion and terror.

"Lorenzo, what is this?" my father asks, his voice shaking.

"Your daughter needs to learn a lesson," Lorenzo says coldly, his eyes fixed on me. He nods to one of his men, who uncoils a thin leather whip.

Horror chokes me. I scream, thrashing against the hands pinning me down. "Don't! Don't you touch them! Punish me!"

Lorenzo grabs my chin, his grip like steel, forcing me to watch. "Why?" he snarls, his face inches from mine. "Why would you dare to harm Isabella?"

The first crack of the whip is followed by my mother's scream of agony. It tears through me, a pain far worse than any I've ever felt.

"Stop it! Please, stop!" I sob hysterically. "Isabella pushed me! I'm telling you the truth! Check the security tapes!"

He shoves my face away. "I don't need to," he says, his voice flat. He believes her. He will always believe her.

My heart doesn't just shatter; it turns to dust. I remember a time when he'd told me my word was the only truth he'd ever need. That trust is gone, burned to ashes by Isabella's lies.

Leaning against Lorenzo's chest, Isabella looks over at me, a triumphant smile on her lips. "Ninety-three percent," she mouths, the silent words a poison meant only for me.

I watch in numb despair as my parents are beaten until they fall silent, their bodies slumped and bloody on the hospital floor.

"I'm tired of all this screaming," Isabella murmurs, feigning a headache.

Lorenzo nods, lifting her into his arms as if she were made of glass, and carries her out of the room, stepping over my parents' broken bodies without a second glance.

The moment they're gone, I scramble from the bed and crawl to my parents, my tears soaking their torn, blood-stained clothes. "I'm so sorry," I sob, my voice little more than a broken whisper. "I'm so, so sorry."

When the doctor returns, I beg him to help them. He shakes his head, his eyes full of pity but his hands at his sides.

"I can't," he says quietly. "The Don's orders are clear. Not until you've properly apologized to Miss Rossi."