Lyla Rose

_____

Tears well up in my eyes as the full weight of his words sinks in. He's willing to lock me up and drug me just so he can marry her. The realization crashes down on me like a wave, leaving me drowning in sorrow and helplessness.

He pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. His breathing is heavy, and for a moment, I think he might turn around, say something different. But instead, his voice is thick, laden with something like regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Rose. But you're making this impossible." Without another word, he opens the door, stepping out into the hallway. The door slams behind him, and I'm left alone, broken.

I collapse to the floor, my sobs shaking my body, my heart shattering with every sob. I don't know what to do anymore. My mind is a fog, and all I can feel is the weight of impending loss.

Hours pass. Vincent doesn't return. The palace is silent, save for my broken cries. Suddenly, a soft knock echoes through the room, and the door creaks open. It's one of Vincent's most trusted guards, Antonio. "Mrs. Ricci..." His voice is hesitant, soft, almost pitying.

I wipe my face quickly, standing up, trying to compose myself. "Yes?" I reply quietly, my voice hoarse from crying.

Antonio steps in cautiously, closing the door behind him. His discomfort is evident as he shifts from foot to foot, but there's something in his eyes, something sympathetic, even worried. "I've never seen him like this..." He admits, his voice low. "He's really going through with locking you up tomorrow." He pauses, clearly struggling with what to say next.

"He's... having the basement prepared right now. With locks, cameras, everything." His words hit me like a cold slap, but he isn't done. "And he's arranged for the doctor to come tomorrow morning to... administer the sedative." He looks at me then, his expression softens with pity. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ricci."

"Maybe because I'm just an orphan who has nothing to offer, not even an heir." The words come out broken, whispered into the stillness of the room and the ache inside me deepens.

Antonio's expression softens, his voice quiet and kind. "That's not true, Mrs. Ricci." He steps closer, a faint trace of sympathy in his eyes. "You've given him love, loyalty, obedience. Things money can't buy." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "But he's blinded by power and legacy. He doesn't see what he has."

"It doesn't matter anymore," I mutter, feeling the deep, aching numbness in my heart, the kind that just leaves you hollow.

Antonio nods, his face somber. "I suppose you're right. It doesn't matter anymore." He hesitates before speaking again, his voice barely a whisper. "What are you going to do tomorrow when he locks you up?"

I don't have an answer. I stay silent, my heart heavy, my mind clouded by a numb despair.

"I should go..." Antonio's voice is soft, full of regret. He moves to the door, his hand on the knob, then pauses. "I have orders to report back to him." He turns back to me, his eyes full of pity. "Mrs. Ricci..."

"If you ever need anything... anything at all while you're locked up, you can trust me to bring it to you. Without telling Don Vincent," he gives me a small, sympathetic smile before slipping quietly out of the room, leaving me alone once more.

______

Hours later, the morning sun is bright, slicing through the curtains with sharp rays that only make the coldness of the room feel more biting. I stand in front of the mirror, my hands trembling as I pull on a simple white dress. My five-foot frame feels even smaller, thinner than I've ever been. My fair skin has a ghostly pallor, the delicate curve of my neck now exposed like a wound. My blue eyes, once bright, are dull, the fire that once burned in them extinguished by the weight of betrayal. My chestnut hair is pulled into a messy bun, strands escaping like a chaotic reflection of the mess my life has become.

As I stand there, staring at my reflection, everything I once loved about him, the man who promised me eternity, feels like a distant memory. The man I see now is nothing like the Vincent I married.

And then, as if called by my thoughts, Vincent appears in the doorway, tall and broad, clad in his black wedding suit. His pale skin a sharp contrast to the darkness of his hair. His eyes, once warm and full of love, now look cold and distant. His gaze immediately locks onto my neck, the same neck he used to kiss every morning, now exposed, vulnerable. His jaw tightens slightly, but his eyes quickly flick at the paper in his hand, the divorce papers. The weight of them feels suffocating, just like the distance between us now.

"Sign them," he commands, his voice cold, slicing through the air like a knife.

I turn to face him, my expression a mask of defiance. "You know my answer." My voice is quiet but firm, and I glare at him, all the pain, all the heartbreak, hidden behind a wall of resolve.

His eyes flash with irritation, his patience thinning. He strides forward, holding the papers out to me. "Sign. Them. Now." His voice is unwavering, firm, the command of a man who thinks he's in control. "The doctor will be here any moment to administer the sedative. After you sign, you'll be locked in the basement."

My heart shatters with those words, but I won't let him see it. "Is that what I get for loving you like crazy, huh?" I ask, the question broken, my eyes empty as I look up at him. There's nothing left in me but this raw, unrelenting hurt.

Vincent's expression softens, just for a moment, a flicker of something, regret, maybe? But it vanishes just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the ice-cold indifference I've come to hate. "Love has nothing to do with this, Rose." His words are like a slap to the face. "This is about power, legacy, the future. Things you can't give me." He pauses for a beat, his eyes dark. "Sign the papers."

"I won't," I repeat firmly, standing my ground, my voice stronger now, the smallest hint of defiance rising in me like a spark in the dark.

Vincent's face twists with rage. He throws the papers onto the table, his fists clenching at his sides, his breath coming in quick bursts. "Fine. Then you'll be locked up soon." He turns sharply as the door opens and the doctor enters, carrying a syringe in his hand. "Give her the shot," Vincent orders coldly, his voice as final as a death sentence. "Now."

Lyla Rose

________

The sight of the needle makes my stomach twist in terror. I stumble backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. He's truly going through with this. He's going to drug me, force me to sign the papers, and lock me away. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

Dr Ryder steps forward cautiously, his movements slow and deliberate. He reaches for my arm and I struggle to pull away, my body trembling in fear. "Let go!" I scream, my voice raw, desperate, as I try to fight him off.

But his grip is firm, unyielding. He pulls my arm up gently, but with force, the cool touch of the alcohol swab against my skin sends a shiver down my spine. "This won't hurt, miss," he says, his voice soft, almost too calm for what he's about to do.

"Let me go!" I scream again, my voice frantic as I struggle against Dr Ryder's hold, but he doesn't release me.

The needle presses into my arm, the sharp sting making my body tense. And then, the warmth spreads, slowly at first, and then all at once. My vision blurs, my limbs feel heavy and my thoughts begin to fade, slipping through my fingers like sand. "There we go," Dr Ryder murmurs, his words growing distant as the sedative takes hold.

I limp in his arms, unable to resist, the drug making me compliant, pliable. It feels as if my body is no longer my own, and I'm floating somewhere between consciousness and oblivion.

Dr Ryder gently lowers me onto the bed, arranging my limbs with a tenderness that feels out of place. He turns to Vincent, who stands there, impassive, watching me with unreadable eyes. "It will take effect in about two minutes. She'll be compliant, easy to handle."

Vincent nods curtly, his face a mask of cold determination. "Wait outside," he orders, and the doctor exits quietly, leaving us alone.

I lie on the bed, limp and restless, heat crawling under my skin, my mind tangled and scattered. Thoughts refuse to form. I'm drowning in a haze, lost in fog I can't escape.

Vincent watches me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He picks up the divorce papers from the table and walks over to the bed, sitting down beside me. His presence is suffocating, the weight of his gaze making me feel even more fragile. He takes my limp hand and places it on the paper, curling my fingers around the pen. "Sign," he says quietly, but firmly.

"Vincent..." I whimper, struggling to keep my eyes open. The pen feels foreign in my hand, but it's there, the weight of it pulling my fingers down.

Vincent ignores my weak protest, his grip on my hand firm, guiding my fingers to the pen, forcing me to hold it. "Sign your name, Rose." His voice is soft, coaxing, but there's something ruthless in it. He knows I'm too drugged to fight back. He presses my hand onto the paper, and I feel the pen moving, tracing out the first letter. "R..." he prompts, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Vincent... I love you," I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. Even in this haze, even as my body betrays me, my heart still belongs to him.

For a brief moment, I see something in his eyes: Pain? Regret? But it's gone in an instant, buried beneath the ice of his resolve. He continues to guide my hand, his voice almost tender, but it doesn't reach me. "I know, but now you've signed the divorce papers. It's done." His words are soft but final.

I feel myself slipping away, my breathing shallow and uneven. I close my eyes, the darkness swallowing me whole. And then, everything fades.

____

I wake with a start, gasping for air as the remnants of the drug still cloud my mind. Is it night now? I can barely remember; everything is a haze, like fog swirling around me, suffocating me. But then, the pieces fall together. He drugged me. The papers... the divorce papers. I signed them, didn't I? My heart stutters, panic rising in my chest. Did I?

I scramble to my feet, my legs weak beneath me as I stumble toward the stairs, my breath coming in short gasps. I don't even know how I'm still standing, but the terror driving me is stronger than the drug still pulsing in my veins. I make it down to the living room, and the sight that greets me stops me in my tracks. My breath hitches, and I feel my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

Vincent stands before me, the marriage certificate in his hands, his face cold, unyielding. His eyes lock onto mine for a brief moment, but they hold no warmth, only emptiness. His eyes flick to the woman standing next to him. Maria. A thick blonde woman, radiant in a wedding dress, her smile flawless, as if she's won some prize she never had to fight for. And the guests, his father, his mother, his siblings, and friends, are gathered around them, watching as if this is just another celebration. As if I never existed.

I am truly divorced. My love, my Vincent, my husband, truly divorced me. He married another woman because I was infertile. My mind refuses to accept it, but my heart already knows, there's no denying it now.

I choke out a sob, the agony clawing at my chest. But the words won't come. All I can do is stand there, my whole body trembling, as I realize just how far he's gone, how completely he's erased me.

Vincent watches, impassive, as I break apart completely. My sobs rack my body, and the tears come like a flood, unstoppable. He doesn't move, doesn't react, as he turns back to Maria, who stands beside him, uncomfortable but still smiling beautifully for the guests. It's like nothing has changed for her, and yet everything is crumbling inside me.

Lyla Rose

________

His father approaches him, clapping him on the back proudly.

"Granny..." I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. My body quivers with the weight of my sorrow. "Why didn't you stop this? Why didn't you see what he was doing?"

His grandmother looks at me, her face full of pity, before glancing at Vincent with disappointment in her eyes. But she doesn't speak. She doesn't protest. She keeps quiet, unwilling to ruin the ceremony. She moves toward me, her hands gentle as she wraps an arm around my trembling body, trying to support me, to hold me together. "Rose, sweetheart..." Her voice is soft, regretful. "He made his choice."

I shake my head, my sobs only growing louder, more desperate. "No, Granny... No, no, no..." The word feels like a curse as I whisper it again and again, unable to comprehend what's happening.

Vincent's mother and friends watch, varying degrees of discomfort or understanding on their faces. His sister, Sophia, looks at me with pity, then quickly looks away, unable to watch me fall apart. His mother, busy complimenting Maria on her wedding dress, only serves to deepen the wound in my chest. Vincent's father, however, turns to him, his expression serious and determined. "It's time," he says firmly, like he's permitting Vincent to proceed with something that was never meant to be stopped.

I wipe my face, still trembling. I can barely breathe, but I manage to force myself to stand. Somehow, I find the strength to move toward Maria. I walk as if on broken glass, my legs unsteady, my mind fighting against the drug still clouding my thoughts. I reach her, hoping she'll back off, hoping she'll understand.

"Please, don't... Please don't..." I plead, my voice breaking with desperation. "He's my husband. Please don't be with him... don't take him from me." I know, deep down, that the divorce is final, that the papers are signed. But I can't let go of the tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll back away.

Maria looks at me with guilt and determination battling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Rose," she whispers, her voice soft but resolute. "He's my husband now."

"No..." I shake my head, tears streaming down my face, my chest heaving with the agony of it all. "Please, Maria, please... don't..."

Maria's gaze flicks to Vincent, who stands beside his father, his face hard, his eyes cold. She sees the finality in him, the indifference that sears through her, and she knows. He's made his decision, and if Vincent Ricci makes a decision, no one can change it, not even God.

She reaches out, gently, almost hesitantly, and takes my hands in hers. "Rose..." she whispers. "He doesn't love you anymore."

I shake my head, unable to process it.

The man who once claimed I was everything, the man who told me I was enough despite being an orphan with no family, no status, has become a stranger. He left me for an illness, for my inability to give him children. And seeing him with another woman, the one who will carry his child, the one who takes the place I was promised feels like someone is stabbing my chest over and over, each blow stealing what little is left of me.

Vincent's father steps forward. "Enough!" His voice cuts through the heavy air, snapping everyone to attention. "The marriage is official. The documents are signed. Vincent is now married to Maria. This ends here."

I wipe my face, my trembling hand pressing against the pain in my chest. I drop to my knees before Vincent. "Please, Vincent, don't do this to me..." I beg, clutching his leg with all the strength I have left, my body shaking with sobs. "Please, Vincent, please don't leave me." "You promised... you promised you'd love me forever. You promised I was the only one for you..." My voice cracks, raw and desperate, every word a knife twisting in my chest. "How can you just... how can you just erase me like this?"

He looks down at me, his eyes flickering for the briefest moment. I see it, a flash of something. Pain? Regret? But then it's gone, and he hardens again. He pulls his leg away from my desperate grasp. "Get up, Rose," he says coldly, his voice unwavering, his command final. "This is over."

"I'm an orphan," I whisper brokenly, my voice a mere rasp. "I have no one except you, and yet you divorced me." My words barely reach him, but I can't stop myself from saying them, from letting him hear the raw pain I've carried for so long.

He looks at his father, who nods in approval. Granny moves toward me, trying to pull me away from him with such tenderness that it feels like a betrayal. "Rose, my dear..." She whispers, pulling me into her arms. "Let him go."

"Granny... I love him..." I sob, looking up at her, my heart shattering under the weight of everything I've lost.

Granny's eyes are full of sorrow, disappointment, and regret as she looks at Vincent, then back at me. She pulls me close, rocking me gently. "I know, darling... I know, but he is no longer yours. He never was," she murmurs, her voice heavy with sorrow. My sobs grow louder, my heart aching at her words. No... it's not true. He was mine, all mine.

Vincent's father clears his throat sharply. "The wedding ceremony will continue. Remove her from the room. Take her to the basement and lock her up. Make sure she never sees the light of day again."

Two security guards step forward, their eyes cold and unyielding, fixed on me like predators closing in. And I realize this is it. I'll be locked away like an animal and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

This world is a cruel place, made for those who take, never for those who love and lose with nothing left to give.