I Broke Our Blood Oath So He Could Love Her

Adriana's POV

My husband and I had been reincarnated twice, and not once had we ever been apart.

Yet, somehow, he hated me.

Lorenzo Moretti hated me with a kind of quiet, bone-deep fury that no soldier in the compound ever seemed to notice.

And I felt it every time he looked at me.

But I also knew him better than anyone ever had. I knew that under all that anger, under the ice a young Don wears like a second suit, Lorenzo had the softest damn heart.

Hed never admit it. Hed probably laugh in my face if I said it out loud.

But I saw it. I always saw it.

And honestly, if he didnt have that kind of heart, how else could you explain what he did?

How could he have dropped the urn holding the ashes of Tessa Falcone, the woman he loved so deeply, just to shield me when a rival Familys knives cornered me in that alley?

He died to save me.

Stabbed over and over, right there in front of me, while his enforcers were still three streets away.

And still, with his last breath, Lorenzo reached out, gathered Tessas ashes in his bloodied hand, and looked straight at me.

That smile. God, that smile.

Half cruel. Half gentle. All broken.

The kind of expression that wouldn't fade with time. One that would sink into your bones and stay there.

Adriana, Lorenzo said, voice barely holding on, I dont regret saving you. But I hope we never meet again in the next life.

The old Don sent his men to collect the body. They didnt let me see him. Not even once. Not even for a second.

No goodbye. No closure. Just a door shut in my face and the silence of a house in mourning.

They treated me like I had put the knife in him myself.

His father, Vittorio, looked at me like I was the reason his only son was cold on a slab.

And maybe in some twisted way, I was.

The old man looked ten years older than the last time Id knelt at his table. His shoulders had caved, his hair had gone white, all of it the toll grief takes on a man who has buried enemies without blinking and could not bury his own blood without breaking. But Vittorio didnt break. Not fully.

He just stood there, hollowed out, looking at me like I was a debt hed sworn to and lived to regret.

He drew the reading glasses from his face and set them down, slow, deliberate, the way he did before he spoke a truth that could not be argued. If your father hadnt sworn that blood-oath to me on his deathbed, he said, voice low and rough, I wouldve never kept Lorenzo from taking Tessa to the chapel. Never. But I owed him. He was a boss, and he was my friend. And Lorenzo Lorenzo kept pulling you out of the fire like it meant something. Like it was fate. But this, whatever this is between you two, ends now. It has to.

Then came Rosaria, the matriarch.

God, the way she looked at me like I was poison in the wine.

She didnt raise her voice or weep. Rosaria just stared at me with those sharp, tired eyes that had spent the whole night open. Eyes that had watched their son carried home under a sheet.

She had a spoon in her hand from the untouched sauce on the stove. She set it down flat on the counter, and the whole room seemed to understand a line had been crossed. Adriana, she said, her voice cold and measured, if you have even a shred of conscience left, let my son go. Let him rest. Dont follow him into the next life. Dont make him suffer for you again!

Then Rosaria folded her hands the way she did in the front pew every Sunday, and she said it.

Please. Let him go. Were begging you.

And that? Thats what stuck. Not the blood. Not the funeral I wasnt allowed to stand at.

Not even Lorenzos last words.

That one sentence, Let him go, burrowed into my head and stayed there for ten years.

So I didnt go back to the family estate, didnt show my face at another sit-down, and didnt do anything except work.

I poured every damn part of me into the Seven Stars cipher, the untraceable ledger-and-communication net that half the Families swore was a ghost story.

Seven Stars. Something the old bosses said was a fantasy.

But I made it real.

When we finally cracked it and it finally held, I put my own name forward as the first to run the sequence, without hesitation.

Don Vitale, our Consigliere, looked at me like Id lost my mind. He drew the old pocket watch from his vest and began polishing it with his thumb, the one habit he could never talk himself out of.

Adriana, he said carefully, even if the sync holds, we dont know what it does to a body over time. Things we cant undo. You need to really think this through.

I just smiled, shrugging off my coat like it was any other day. Its alright, Don Vitale. I just want to see if theres still time to fix what I broke. To make something right.

Then I turned, threw the switch, and didnt look back.

What came next was pure agony. A shockwave ripped through me, like it was trying to force my soul through the eye of a needle. Then a blinding white light flashed so brightly it felt like it was burning my eyes.

And then I opened my eyes.

I was standing right outside the chapel at Saint Judes, the little stone church on the mountain where the Families carved their vows. Something smooth and cool rested in my palm, a fate stone the chaplains cut by hand for the blood-oath rite.

At that moment, I knew exactly what day it was. The day Rosaria had begged us to come back up the mountain and keep the pact.

Adriana, a voice snapped beside me, irritated, what are you spacing out for? Carve the damn thing. I dont have all day.

I turned around.

Lorenzo.

He was alive, twenty-five again. His face was full of life. No scars. No death waiting behind his eyes.

My throat closed up so fast I didnt even feel the tears until they hit my cheeks.

Lorenzo frowned. Seriously? Crying over a carved, useless stone? What game are you playing now, huh? Did my mother drag me up here just so you could put on this whole lovesick act?

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat.

I swallowed hard, bit the inside of my cheek, and forced myself to smile. Can you go wait outside for a sec? I want to give you a surprise.

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes at me, clearly suspicious, but didnt argue. He just dropped the stone hed already carved on the table and walked out, and even the two soldiers by the chapel door stepped aside without being told.

I picked it up, my fingers gently tracing the familiar letters cut into the smooth, flat stone. His name. Lorenzo Moretti.

And then, something hit me deep inside.

Loving him the way I did never brought either of us peace. We never found happiness. All we ended up with were empty spaces, wide, aching holes where our dreams used to live.

A young chaplain passing between the pews noticed me frozen in place.

Signora Moretti, he said softly, if you dont carve your name soon, youll miss the last car down the mountain.

I blinked, nodded, and picked up the carving knife.

My hand trembled just a little as I carved the name:

Tessa Falcone.

Stroke by stroke, line by line, I traced every letter with care.

When I finished, I set the stone down and finally let out a breath. For the first time in years, it felt like I could actually breathe.

Saint Judes wasnt just any chapel. Every Family that ever bound two names knew its reputation.

If the bond you carried up the mountain was true, heaven would guard it. But if what you brought was a cursed bond, it would turn against you. Every single time.

Adriana's POV

For more than ten years, Rosaria and I have made it a tradition to climb up to Saint Jude's chapel every year, like clockwork, past the soldiers posted along the mountain road who dipped their heads as the matriarch's car went by.

When the old chaplain saw me this time, he gave me that same calm smile he always had.

Gentle, warm, but also layered. It was meaningful.

Then, the chaplain repeated what he had told me years ago:

Lorenzo and I were tied together by fate, bound by a blood-oath our fathers had sworn, destined to cross paths again and again. He saved me more than once in the past, and that's how we ended up sealed to each other.

Hearing this revelation, Rosaria lit up like it was a sign from the heavens.

She grabbed my hand, teary-eyed and glowing. "Adriana, this is wonderful news! You and Lorenzo are truly meant for each other. That's fate!"

Fate. Yeah.

Except fate isn't always kind. And it's never simple.

Later, Lorenzo really did save me.

Of all things, it was an avalanche that came down the mountain like the wrath of God. However, he wasn't quick enough to save Tessa. She was also trapped, but by the time they dug her out, there was little left. She merely had a weak heartbeat and spent many years in the Family's private clinic, waiting to die.

And death truly claimed her.

Lorenzo never forgave me, not even once. Every bit of his grief, pain, guilt, and heartbreak was directed right at me, blaming me for being there. Perhaps if I hadn't been there, he might have been able to save her instead.

And yet, when it came down to it, he still chose me. The oath bound him, and a Moretti does not break his father's word.

I used to think the chaplain's words were beautiful. I remember how they filled my chest with this ridiculous hope. I clung to them like they meant something divine, like maybe heaven itself had a stake in the arrangement.

Now I know better.

It wasn't a blessing. It was a warning.

The fate that connected Lorenzo and me wasn't some golden ribbon of destiny.

It was a chain. Heavy. Tight. Unforgiving. The kind of chain a made man wears until they bury him with it.

And I'd been too happy, too stupid, to see that look in the chaplain's eyes when he smiled.

I'd mistaken his pity for reassurance. And that blind, naive hope kicked off a whole storm of heartbreak I never saw coming.

At the altar, I handed the two fate stones to the chaplain.

He squinted at the carvings, his expression going cautious. "Adriana, if the names on these are wrong, the blessing transfers to someone else."

I looked him straight in the eye and nodded. My thumb found the thin band on my left ring finger, turned it once, then went still. "This is how it's supposed to be."

It wasn't too late, not yet. I could still make sure Lorenzo got what he really wanted.

As I stepped out of the chapel, a couple passed us on their way in, no soldiers at their backs, no debts written into their names.

The girl was practically glowing, clinging to her boyfriend's arm like they were the only two people in the world.

"I heard the magnolias in the garden are about to bloom," she said, bouncing on her toes. "And they're holding a ceremony for the fate stones when they're at their peak. Let's stick around a few more days, okay?"

The guy smiled and reached out, playfully rubbing her nose. "Alright, alright. Whatever you want."

I watched them walk away, maybe longer than I should've. There was just something about them. The ease. The comfort. The softness.

But Lorenzo and I never had that. Not even once.

Of course, he noticed. Nothing moved in his orbit that he didn't catalog.

He laughed, sharp and cold, like he couldn't believe I'd even dream about something like that.

"Don't waste your time. I'm only here because my mother insisted. If your father hadn't sworn that oath with mine, there wouldn't have been the slightest chance for us."

Then he looked away as if the sight of me physically hurt him.

"I've got something important tonight. Don't try anything. If you screw it up for me, I swear to God, you'll pay for it ten times over."

I already knew what important meant. He didn't need to spell it out.

It was Tessa's birthday.

He'd been planning it for weeks, taking over an entire rooftop the Family owned, hiring choreographers for a whole light show, and syncing it to her favorite music, all to make sure her night was perfect.

I smiled. Just a little. It took effort.

"I won't get in the way."

He blinked at me like I'd spoken a foreign language.

Then his face twisted, and he scoffed. "Good. At least you're finally learning your place, Adriana."

Sal brought us down to the foot of the mountain around seven. Tessa's party was in the opposite direction from the Moretti estate. No way he could make it to both.

The car slowed to a stop. Sal tapped the wheel twice with his thumb but held whatever he'd meant to say.

Lorenzo glanced at me, suddenly unsure of himself. It was rare to see even a flicker of hesitation in him.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and said, "I'll get out here. I can find my own way home."

He blinked again. "What's up with you? Did praying knock some sense into you? You usually throw a tantrum whenever I so much as look at Tessa and try to ruin it."

I turned to him and smiled. A real one this time. Soft. Calm. Resigned.

"I'm tired, Lorenzo. I don't want to always be the villain in your story. I'm not going to fight it anymore. And I won't stop you from seeing Tessa. Just go. You'll be late."

I didn't wait for a response. My body was already starting to feel heavier, the pain simmering beneath the surface, harder to ignore.

I stepped out of the car and closed the door gently behind me, letting out a slow breath. The night air off the mountain smelled of pine and cold stone.

Lorenzo glanced at his watch and looked up at me once more.

This time, he looked different. He was still guarded but serious. Two fingers rested against his signet ring, and for a moment he went perfectly still.

"Um, thanks," he said quietly.

Then he drove off.

No goodbye, no look back.

But honestly, even before this, he never really looked back.

Adriana's POV

Eventually the pain got to be too much. I couldn't fake my way through it anymore.

I doubled over on the side of the road, crouched low with both arms wrapped around my stomach like that would help. My face was a mess of sweat and tears, and maybe both. I couldn't even tell anymore.

Ten minutes passed before the waves of pain subsided enough for me to breathe, much less stand.

This had to be one of the side effects Don Vitale warned me about when I first agreed to work the Seven Stars cipher. He'd polished that old pocket watch of his the whole time he spoke, the way he did whenever a plan was heading somewhere fatal.

I glanced around. We were out past the edge of Moretti territory, the mountain road empty in both directions. No cars, no phone service worth the name, nobody for miles. Just pines, the cracked asphalt, and the faint taste of blood in my mouth.

Still, I knew how this would go.

If I missed Tessa's birthday party, Lorenzo would pin it on me.

Another strike. Another grudge. Another reason to hate me just a little bit more.

Then I heard a familiar voice and turned toward the phone's screen.

The livestream had started.

Tessa's birthday party was playing in real time, broadcast to half the Families who mattered.

Sal, the wheelman, noticed me staring and tapped the steering wheel twice with his thumb before he spoke, as if knocking to ask permission.

"Kids these days," he muttered. "Love's a sport now. Fireworks, diamonds, a violin flown in from the old country. Must be exhausting, trying to outdo each other in front of everybody."

I didn't say anything.

I glanced up at the phone resting on the dashboard. The video showed Lorenzo fastening a necklace around Tessa's throat, and it wasn't just any necklace.

I recognized it instantly.

Vittorio and Rosaria had asked Lorenzo to photograph it back when it was still under glass, thinking it would be the perfect gift to seal the blood-oath. For me. For us.

Lorenzo took the photo. But instead of giving the necklace to me, he told them straight to their faces:

"The Blue Heart stands for true love. Giving it to Adriana would only tarnish it. You can't force love when it isn't real."

That's what he said, just like that.

The next day, Tessa showed up wearing it like it had always been hers, her smile arriving a half-second too fast, her fingers drifting to the hollow of her throat as if she'd been waiting years for something to hang there.

Vittorio went ballistic.

He came out of his study with the old belt his own father had used on him, ready to bring the young Don down a notch in front of the whole house.

But Lorenzo didn't back down. He let himself get hit and didn't even flinch. He'd rather take the pain than admit he was wrong. That day, he gave Tessa the necklace without hesitation.

And from the way he looked at her now, I think he was proud of it.

I stared at the screen, watching her stand beside him, shy and smiling, like she belonged there. My chest twisted up tight.

The cruelest kind of heartbreak is knowing that the person you love was never yours to begin with. And yet you throw yourself into loving them, like maybe that will change something.

Lorenzo's fingers trembled slightly against the strings, but his eyes never wavered. He played for her like she was the only person in the world. Gentle, steady, completely devoted.

Still, I could see the pain behind those eyes.

And deep down, I knew exactly why.

Years ago, on a winter climb up to the chapel, I slipped and fell. Lorenzo caught me before my head hit the rocks, but doing it, a jagged branch drove clean through the center of his palm. Ten centimeters deep. Ever since, even the slightest pressure could send pain shooting up his whole arm.

When the song ended, he brushed the sweat from his brow and shifted just enough for the scar to show.

Someone nearby noticed. "Hey, Lorenzo, what happened to your hand? That looks nasty."

Another guest laughed. "C'mon, you know the Don. Probably took it saving somebody. Knight in shining armor, that one."

Lorenzo barely looked up. "Oh. I forgot," he said.

Just a quick, flat reply. Detached and distant.

He forgot.

And that broke me.

"Lorenzo's so good to Tessa," someone gushed. "He rented out the whole of Harborview Bay for her. If that isn't real love, what is?"

Of course. Harborview Bay. I should have known.

The place was legendary. Anniversary dinners, proposals, the kind of grand gestures the Families whispered about for years. There's even some old story that if your union is witnessed there, it will last forever.

I used to hint at it to Lorenzo. Sometimes subtly, sometimes not.

He'd just roll his eyes. "God, you're so naive. If love worked like that, people wouldn't end up miserable half the time."

And then the one that stuck. "And besides, what love? Between us? Adriana, you need to stop mixing up fantasy with reality."

I never forgot those words. They haunted me.

Maybe if I'd let go sooner, Lorenzo wouldn't have died carrying so much regret. Maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much time begging fate to fix something it never gave me in the first place.

"That's right," another voice said. "Adriana Rossi needs to take a hint. Lorenzo and Tessa are perfect together. He's got the power, she's got the looks. Honestly, it just makes sense. If she tries to come between them again, karma's coming for her."

I ducked my head and laughed under my breath, bitter and quiet.

Karma. Sure.

I'd probably earned every ounce of it.

Sal heard me sniffling and glanced into the rearview mirror, his voice gentle for a man who drove for killers. "You all right back there, miss?"

I wiped my face and forced a small smile.

"Yeah," I said. "Just one of those cries that helps more than it hurts."

Because that's what it was.

I was crying because Lorenzo got everything he wanted. Because I'd done what I came here to do.

Because even if he never once loved me, I still appreciated the kindness he'd shown me.

...

When I finally got back to the Moretti estate, Rosaria was already standing in the doorway, waiting like she'd been counting the minutes. Sharp as ever, no-nonsense to the bone, the kind of woman men twice her size straightened up for.

"Adriana," she called out, cutting straight to it. "Did you finish the carving? That's not something to be sloppy about. And where's Lorenzo? Why didn't he come back with you?"

Adriana's POV

Seeing Vittorio and Rosaria still so full of life hit harder than I expected.

There they stood, upright, clear-eyed, steady in a way I hadn't been in years, framed by the old estate's dark paneling and the faint smell of Sunday sauce still hanging in the air.

My throat tightened before I could halt it.

If it hadn't been for me, maybe they'd still be living a quiet life, untouched by all this wreckage the life had brought down on them.

I dropped to my knees in front of Rosaria and gently took her hand, steadying my voice even though my insides were anything but.

"I'm sorry, Don Vittorio, Donna Rosaria. I didn't carve my name into the stone at the chapel. And I'm not going to bind myself to Lorenzo. There's no love left between us. I've finally accepted that. I'm letting him go... and I'm letting myself go, too."

I paused, gathering what strength I had left.

"I've also accepted a post overseas, a government intelligence position, the kind of clean exit nobody in this life ever gets offered twice. I'll be leaving soon. I'd be grateful if you could keep this between us, at least for now. You know as well as I do what happens to a woman who tries to walk away out loud."

Back then, I'd given up everything for Lorenzo.

My work on the cipher.

A place among the people who could have protected me.

A future outside these walls.

I let it all go for the faint, foolish hope that if I just stayed, if I loved him hard enough, he'd see me differently someday. And that maybe he could learn to love me.

But all we did was hurt each other, over and over.

Now, I was sure. The only way to finally give Lorenzo the life he wanted was for me to get out of the way.

Rosaria stood stunned for a second. Then she quickly reached down and helped me to my feet, clearly rattled, the spoon she'd been holding forgotten on the table beside her.

"Adriana, what are you saying?" she said, gripping my hands like she could physically stop this from happening. "Lorenzo's just confused. You know how he is! He's stubborn, but he cares about you even if he doesn't always show it. If he didn't, he wouldn't have agreed to honor the pact! And if you leave, how are we supposed to answer to your father's memory, to the oath he swore on his deathbed?"

She didn't give me time to answer before she continued, already reaching for her phone. "Don't be rash. I'll call him right now. You two need to sit down and settle this."

I gently placed my hand over hers to stop her.

"Donna Rosaria," I said softly, "I have never had more clarity in my life."

I took a deep breath and let it settle in my chest. "Lorenzo agreed to the blood-oath out of a sense of obligation. And yes, an oath demands loyalty, but that can't be all it is. You and the Don have treated me like blood. Lorenzo has saved my life more times than I can count. That already far outweighs anything my family ever did for the Morettis."

I took a deep breath and felt the words roll out of me, each one honest.

"Five years ago, he was nearly buried alive pulling me out of a mountain road in a snowstorm when the other Family ran us off it. And now, every time it rains, he's in pain because of it. Three years ago, I ran from this house like some reckless idiot, and Lorenzo got jumped by men who came looking for me in the wrong part of the city. They put a blade in him. He could've died. He never told anyone, but I know. I've seen the scars. And I live with that guilt every single day. Almost every mark on his body is my fault. I'm honestly terrified that next time... next time he might not make it."

I looked her in the eyes and continued, "Almost every scar on his body is because of me. And if I stay bound to him, I'm scared the next one might kill him."

Rosaria's eyes were filled with tears. Her voice cracked. "But you know Tessa Falcone's no good. She's latched onto every powerful man in the Families and drained them dry. How can you just stand there and let Lorenzo end up with someone like her?"

I nodded slowly.

In my past life, I remembered how jealousy had once prompted me to have Tessa's history pulled. Tessa was a well-known kind of woman, the sort who drifted from one boss's bed to the next, always reaching for something she hadn't been given yet.

In fact, she had quite a reputation among the Families.

And Lorenzo, young, handsome, the young Don of a powerful name, was just another prize on her list.

Later, she died when her car went off the road, run down after her fall from grace.

That was the woman he loved. But I already made peace with it.

Right then, I gave Rosaria's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I know," I said. "I really do. But it's been years. And she hasn't been mixed up in anything like that for a long time now. I'll keep an eye on her, I promise. And I will come back to visit you and Don Vittorio. I mean that."

They didn't say anything. They just sank onto the couch, both of them looking like the air had gone out of their lungs.

I stood up, forcing down the ache in my gut and chest, then quietly said goodbye. I turned and began to leave, but I didn't make it to the front door.

A sharp pain struck me without warning, as if someone had cut through my core. My knees gave way, and I collapsed to the floor before I could cry out.

The next thing I knew, I was in a bed at the Family's private clinic. I woke up with a dull ache in my abdomen, and my whole body felt as though it had been wrung out like a towel.

I'd barely sat up when the door swung open and Lorenzo came through it. The clinic must have called him; he was still listed as the man they answered to for me.

Lorenzo looked at me, gave me that trademark bitter grin, and shook his head.

"I actually thought you'd changed," he said. "But here we are again. Same old Adriana. Playing the sympathy card. You always show up right when things are finally going right, just to ruin them."

Then he let out a humorless laugh and muttered, "If you'd just disappear from my life, you have no idea how much easier everything would be."

Before I could even think of a response, a nurse rushed into the room.

"Don Moretti," she said, breathless, "Miss Falcone is showing signs of another miscarriage. We need a transfusion immediately, or we could lose both her and the baby. But we're nearly out of her type, and we can't move blood through the usual channels fast enough. What do we do?"

My brain went blank. Static. My mouth opened, but the words wouldn't come.

And before I could even process it, Lorenzo grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me toward the donation room down the hall.

"If it weren't for you," he snapped, his grip closing hard around the place where a ring should have been, "Tessa wouldn't be in this. If you've got any conscience left, Adriana, then do the right thing."

Adriana's POV

I looked up at Lorenzo and gave him the gentlest smile I could manage.

"Don't worry," I said quietly. "I'll take care of it."

He didn't hesitate. Not even for a breath. The second the words left my mouth, he turned and rushed off like he couldn't get away fast enough, his shadow gone from the doorway before I'd lowered my hand.

The nurse who came in to draw my blood gave me this tight, uneasy look. In the Family's private clinic, no one spoke louder than they had to. The walls here had heard too much.

"Signora Moretti, your vitals aren't looking good," she said softly. "You really shouldn't be donating blood in your condition."

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm the same blood type as Miss Falcone. And it's two lives we're talking about."

In my last life, Tessa died from this.

And that was the root of Lorenzo's hatred toward me. That moment. That loss.

This time, I was going to fix it.

After the blood was drawn, everything went sideways. I felt my whole body cave in, and before I could even try to sit up, everything went dark.

...

When I woke up, Lorenzo was sitting right beside me. For once, the anger in his eyes was gone, and all I saw was gratitude.

"Tessa's surgery went well," he said, his voice low. "Thanks for everything. Here. Take this as a token of appreciation."

He held out a small box.

Inside were sapphire earrings, still in their original case.

I remembered them. They were the pieces that came with the Blue Heart necklace, back when that necklace was meant to be mine, when Vittorio and Rosaria still called it a gift for the blood-oath bride.

Still valuable. Still beautiful.

But I didn't reach for them. I gently pushed the box back toward him.

"No thanks," I said. "I don't need them."

Lorenzo paused, probably noticing how pale I looked. And this time, he didn't argue.

He just nodded and said, almost gently, "You always said you wanted to see the flowers at Saint Jude's chapel, right? Once you're better, I'll take you."

I gave the faintest smile, more reflex than sincerity, and stayed silent.

I didn't tell him the truth.

Magnolias only bloom for a few days. They're delicate like that. By the time he ever got around to taking me, they'd be long gone, just like everything else.

He set the earrings down on the side table.

"I'll go get you something to eat. Wait here," he said, standing. "Marco's right outside. If you need anything, just call him."

Then he left.

And I just sat there, watching the door close behind him with this quiet, bitter ache blooming in my chest. Somewhere down the corridor a monitor beeped, steady and indifferent, the only sound in a place built to keep secrets and the men who made them.

'Lorenzo, this time, I really can't wait for you anymore. Your heart's already full of her. I know it. I've seen it. There's no room left for me, and I'm done trying to squeeze into a space that was never meant for me in the first place. I won't be the distraction you keep having to push away.'

Not anymore.

My thumb found the thin band on my left ring finger and turned it, once, the way it always did when I was deciding whether a truth was worth speaking aloud. Then I stopped. There was no one left to lie to.

...

Lorenzo's POV

I walked back, food in hand, and found the room empty. The moment I realized she was gone, it felt like a punch to the gut.

I called out, my voice sharp and frantic. "Where is she?"

Marco rushed in, pale and stumbling over his words. His hand was already cracking through its knuckles, one finger at a time, the way it did when he was carrying something he didn't want to say. "Boss, I swear, I was right outside the door the whole time. She never passed by me. I didn't see her leave."

Then a nurse walked past, muttering under her breath, thinking no one in this place would dare listen. "What a shame. So young. She jumped from a high place. Her face was barely recognizable."

I froze.

Turning to her, my voice broke as I shouted, "What did you say? Who jumped? Where?"