Sienna POV:

The cracked screen flared to life, casting a harsh blue glow over my pale face. A prompt appeared, demanding a six-digit passcode.

I hovered my thumb over the shattered glass. My mind was completely blank. I didn't know my own birthday, let alone a random string of numbers.

Julia let out a long, pathetic sigh from the chair beside me. She leaned in and quietly recited Dante's birthdate.

I rolled my eyes so hard it physically hurt. Of course. Because my entire pathetic existence revolved around him. I punched in the numbers. The phone unlocked with a soft click.

The home screen loaded, and a wave of pure, physical revulsion hit me. The wallpaper was a candid, close-up photo of Dante sleeping. His dark hair was messy against a white pillow, his sharp jawline relaxed.

I grimaced, my stomach turning. I immediately opened the settings, navigated to the display options, and changed the wallpaper to a solid, pitch-black background.

Breathing a little easier, I tapped the photo gallery icon. The number at the top of the screen mocked me: over three thousand photos.

I started scrolling rapidly. Picture after picture. Dante sitting at his desk. Dante's back as he walked away. Close-ups of Dante's silk ties. Pictures of his half-empty coffee cups.

I kept swiping, searching for myself. I couldn't find a single selfie. I couldn't find a single picture of me smiling, or doing anything that didn't involve serving him. I was a ghost in my own phone, a mere accessory to his life.

I closed the gallery and opened the Notes app.

The very first note was pinned to the top. The title was written in bold: *Dante's Absolute Taboos*.

I tapped it. A massive, meticulously detailed list appeared. *No cilantro in anything. Shirts must be hand-washed only and scented with cedarwood. Never, ever ask about his daily schedule.*

I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Was I his fiancée, or his senior in-home nurse?"

Julia looked down at her boots, refusing to meet my eyes. Her silence was a loud confirmation.

I kept scrolling down the notes. My finger stopped over a title that made my blood run cold: *Valeria's Preferences*.

I opened it. It was a detailed guide on how to pick birthday gifts for the other woman. It listed her favorite flowers, her clothing size, and a strict list of conversation topics to avoid so I wouldn't "upset her delicate nerves."

My fingers started to tremble. This wasn't the trembling of a broken heart. This was pure, unadulterated rage. I was angry at myself. I was furious at the woman who had allowed herself to be stripped of all dignity.

I closed the notes and opened the messaging app.

The pinned conversation at the top was with Dante. I opened the chat log.

The screen was a wall of green text bubbles. Paragraphs of me asking if he ate, telling him to drive safe, begging him to come home early.

His replies were scattered gray bubbles. *Yeah. Busy. Stop bothering me.*

I scrolled to the very bottom. The last message was sent two hours before the crash. *Honey, will you come to the wedding dress fitting tonight?*

There was no reply. I stared at that pathetic green bubble until my eyes burned. It was the most pathetic thing I had ever seen.

I took a deep, steadying breath. I closed the messaging app and went back to the home screen.

Without a single second of hesitation, I opened the photo gallery again. I tapped the 'Select' button in the top right corner.

I dragged my finger down the shattered glass, selecting every single one of the three thousand photos of his face, his suits, his life.

Julia gasped, leaning forward. "Sienna, are you sure you want to do that?"

My eyes were dead. I pressed the trash can icon. A prompt asked me to confirm. I hit delete. Then I went into the 'Recently Deleted' folder and emptied that too.

Next, I opened the Notes app. I swiped left on the taboos. Deleted. I swiped left on Valeria's preferences. Deleted.

Finally, I opened the messaging app. I swiped left on Dante's pinned contact. I hit block, and then I hit delete.

I stared at the phone. It was completely empty. A clean, blank slate. I tossed the heavy device onto the bedside table. It landed with a plastic clatter.

"Seven years of garbage, cleared in one second."

Sienna POV:

A sudden, violent commotion erupted in the hallway outside.

Dante had clearly lost whatever thin shred of patience he possessed. He kicked the heavy metal door frame with his leather shoe.

The thick soundproof glass absorbed the noise, but the physical force of the kick sent a visible shudder through the entire wall. The blinds rattled against the glass.

Julia jumped in her chair, her shoulders shrinking inward like a frightened animal. She stared at the door in terror.

I slowly lifted my eyes. Through the narrow slats of the blinds, I met Dante's gaze.

His dark, pitch-black eyes were locked onto me. There was no relief in his expression. There was no joy that the woman he was supposed to marry had woken up from a near-fatal crash. There was only the arrogant, high-handed scrutiny of a master annoyed that his pet was causing a scene. He expected me to be crying for him.

I stared back at him without blinking. My eyes were completely flat, studying him with the detached indifference of looking at a corpse on a metal table.

Dante's dark eyebrows snapped together. He visibly flinched, stung by the absolute lack of worship in my eyes.

I broke the eye contact first, turning my head to look at Julia. I needed to focus on logistics.

"The wedding," I said, my voice eerily calm. "It's scheduled for next month. Have the invitations already been sent out?"

Julia blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden shift in topic. She stuttered, "Y-yes. Every politician, businessman, and mob boss in Chicago has received one."

I nodded slowly, processing the information. "Good. The wedding proceeds as planned."

Julia shot up from her chair, her eyes wide with absolute shock. "Are you insane? He left you to burn in a car! He almost killed you!"

I held up my hand, silencing her. My brain was working with surgical precision. "The Moretti family cannot afford the humiliation of a canceled wedding. If I call it off now, it will trigger a power struggle within the Chicago syndicate. I will be the target of the fallout."

Julia clenched her fists, her face turning red. "I would rather watch the family go to war than watch you marry that piece of trash!"

A slow, chilling smile touched the corners of my mouth. "Who said I was going to marry him?"

Julia stared at me, thoroughly confused. "Then what are you doing?"

"The wedding is a bargaining chip," I explained coldly. "I need time. I need to use this period to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."

I looked down at my left hand. The clear plastic IV tube was taped to my skin, restricting my movement. It felt like a leash.

I reached over with my right hand and pinched the plastic base of the needle.

Julia gasped, taking a step forward. "What are you doing?"

I didn't answer. I ripped the medical tape off my skin and yanked the thick needle straight out of my vein.

A sharp sting bit into my hand. Several thick drops of dark red blood instantly bloomed onto the pristine white hospital sheets. The contrast was stark and violent.

I pressed my thumb hard against the puncture wound to stop the bleeding. With my other hand, I threw the heavy blanket off my legs. I gritted my teeth against the screaming pain in my broken ribs and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress.

My bare feet hit the freezing hospital floor. My knees buckled slightly from the weakness of lying in bed for days.

Julia rushed forward, grabbing my arm to keep me upright. Tears were welling in her eyes again. "Sienna, please, you are too weak."

I shoved her hand away. I took a deep, jagged breath and forced my spine to straighten. I would not let him see me slouch.

I grabbed the heavy wool coat draped over the foot of the bed and pulled it over my thin, embarrassing hospital gown. It covered my fragile frame like armor.

I took a step toward the door. Then another. Every single step felt like walking on broken glass, draining my limited energy, but my posture was relentless.

Outside the glass, Dante saw me moving. He stopped pacing. His eyes darkened into a deep, unreadable abyss.

I reached the door and wrapped my hand around the freezing metal handle.

I pressed the handle down. "It is time to meet my wonderful fiancé."

Sienna POV:

I pushed the heavy door open.

A blast of freezing air-conditioning from the VIP corridor hit my face, making me shiver under the wool coat. The sterile smell of the hospital hallway was sharper out here, mixed with the faint scent of floor wax.

Two men in black suits stood by the door. Dante's bodyguards. They straightened their posture when I walked out, but their eyes were dull and dismissive. They lacked the basic respect a guard should have for their boss's future wife.

I ignored them completely. I turned my head, looking for the man who had just been trying to kick my door down.

Dante was gone. The space where he had been standing was empty. The only proof he had been there was a slight, cracked dent in the drywall where his fist had connected. He had zero patience. He had already left to handle business—or more likely, to check on Valeria.

I exhaled slowly. I didn't feel a single ounce of disappointment. In fact, the air in the hallway instantly felt cleaner without his suffocating presence.

I placed my hand against the cold wall to steady myself. I started walking slowly down the corridor, trying to escape the overwhelming smell of the medical ward. Every time my chest expanded to breathe, my fractured ribs screamed, stabbing my lungs like hot needles.

"Excuse me, ma'am!"

A nurse pushing a metal medication cart hurried toward me, her rubber soles squeaking against the marble floor. She stopped right in front of me, crossing her arms with a stern expression.

"You need to return to your room immediately," she demanded, her tone sharp. "Your injuries are severe. You are not cleared to be walking around."

I slowly lifted my eyelids. I stared directly into the nurse's eyes. I didn't raise my voice, but I let the cold, heavy authority of a mafia boss's fiancée bleed into my gaze.

The nurse's mouth clicked shut. She physically recoiled, intimidated by the absolute deadness in my stare.

"I am getting some fresh air," I said evenly. "If I collapse, I take full responsibility. Step aside."

The nurse swallowed hard. She knew I was in the VIP wing. She knew the men in black suits outside my door. She stepped back, pulling her cart against the wall to let me pass.

I kept walking, passing a row of closed wooden doors. The end of the corridor opened up into a blind corner that led toward the hospital's private lounge area.

I reached the corner. I heard the faint, low rumble of a man's voice, but I didn't care enough to stop.

I took a step forward.

Suddenly, a massive, towering figure stepped out from the blind spot, moving at an aggressive, rapid pace.

I couldn't stop in time. I slammed face-first into a chest that felt like a solid wall of iron.

The kinetic force of the impact sent a violent shockwave straight into my broken ribs. A sickening pop echoed in my chest. My vision instantly went black.

I gasped in agony, my body rebounding backward. My legs gave out. I was falling toward the hard marble floor.

A massive, heavy hand shot out and clamped down on my bicep like a steel vice. The skin of his palm was rough, covered in thick calluses from years of firing weapons.

The man yanked me forward with brutal force, easily stopping my fall.

My face smashed right back into his custom tailored suit lapel.

My lungs inhaled sharply. The distinct, metallic smell of burnt gunpowder instantly invaded my nose, mixed heavily with the rich, dark scent of expensive oud wood cologne. It was a smell that screamed violence, power, and danger.

My vision cleared. I jerked my head up and crashed straight into a pair of bottomless, pitch-black eyes.

Dante.

He was staring down at me. His sharp jawline was tight with tension, and a flicker of genuine surprise crossed his dark eyes.

The moment my brain registered who was holding me, a wave of physical disgust washed over my skin. I acted purely on instinct. I ripped my arm out of his grip like he was infected with a deadly disease, stumbling back two large steps to put distance between us.

Dante's arm remained suspended in the air for a second. He looked down at his empty palm. A dark, dangerous flash of irritation sparked in his eyes.

He stepped forward, his massive frame completely blocking the overhead fluorescent light. His shadow swallowed me whole.

He stared intensely at my pale, sweating face. His thick eyebrows drew together in a hard scowl.

"You are supposed to be in bed. What kind of crazy stunt are you pulling?"