Five years into marriage, Silvia Serra becomes both Dante Valenti's most lethal weapon and his most invisible presence.

She shields him from bullets. She crosses a freezing river for him. Her scars accumulate, and his response is an assumption that it is how things are meant to be.

In time, Dante grows repulsed by the violence clinging to her. He derides her lack of charm and gives his warmth to another woman instead.

He allows others to grind down her dignity, and with a new lover in his arms, he openly stains her name.

Silvia tolerates it so she can continue guarding him.

Everyone mocks her as if she's numb to it all, driven away again and again, but never truly gone.

Then comes the night of pounding rain. Cast aside without ceremony, Silvia erases every sign she was ever there and leaves with finality.

Dante treats it as nothing more than sulking, convinced she will return within three days.

Later, the once-untouchable Don was seen on his knees at Silvia's feet, stripped of all pride, begging her to turn back and look at him just once.

On the night marking five years of marriage, Dante Valenti, the Don of the Valenti family, once again became a target of his enemies.

Silvia Serra, acting as the Donna, stayed behind to secure his retreat. She eliminated the group of soldati alone and withdrew only after taking a wound.

The heavy smell of gunpowder and blood still hung in the air.

She opened the door to see Dante on the couch with his lover, Lucia Pellini. They were locked in a deep kiss, lips and tongues entwined in a way that left no room for doubt.

The cold violence surrounding Silvia disturbed the stillness of the room. Lucia immediately drew back into Dante's embrace. Her lips were wet, and she looked toward Silvia with a timid, shaken expression.

"Silvia, mi dispiace. My hypoglycemia hit. I couldn't swallow by myself. Dante was only helping me…"

Dante remained seated. As the Don of the family, he was accustomed to being in command. He rested a hand on the back of the couch and studied Silvia calmly.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

The wound on her right shoulder, split open by a folding knife, was so deep that bone was visible. Still, the husband she had spent years protecting seemed not to see it at all.

Silvia stepped into the living room, blood marking every step. "It couldn't be helped. They meant it this time. It wouldn't have ended without close-range fighting."

Dante finally noticed the injury. He stood and moved toward her, catching her before she lost her balance.

"You are seriously hurt?"

His voice always rose at the end when concern slipped through.

"Enrico will arrive in two minutes. Sit down and stay still."

As Silvia was about to sit, Lucia let out a sharp cry. "There's blood. There's so much blood! I'm frightened…"

Within a family defined by violence and death, Lucia was the only one permitted to keep her innocence.

Dante's hand stiffened where it held Silvia's arm. Then, he let go without hesitation.

She lost her balance and crashed to the floor. The wound tore open, and blood soaked into the costly carpet beneath her.

He was already holding Lucia close, one arm wrapped around her, the other shielding her eyes. His voice dropped into a quiet reassurance. "It's alright. Don't be scared. You're safe."

By the time the family doctor, Enrico Ottolini, stepped inside, Silvia had been ordered into the guest room.

Enrico readied the anesthetic. "Donna Valenti, the injury is severe. The wound reaches the nerves. It needs to be cleaned and stitched immediately, or the arm will be ruined. Please endure it.

"I'm going to give you an anesthetic."

"No anesthesia," Dante said flatly.

He stood at the edge of the light, leaning against the doorframe, slowly rolling a cigar between his fingers.

"Don Valenti, that means stitching her while she's fully awake! We're talking a dozen or more. Even if she stays conscious, the pain could send her into shock!"

"She can endure it."

The certainty in Dante's voice carried the distant, unquestionable authority of someone used to being obeyed.

"Silvia is not like other women. She has taken a gunshot wound and removed the bullet herself. With tensions rising between the families, she serves as my personal protection and is responsible for my security.

"Anesthesia would interfere with her reflexes."

He stepped closer as he spoke and leaned down to meet Silvia's eyes, his smile warm. "This amount of pain is nothing to you, right?"

After 28 years side by side, she knew exactly what he was doing, including now. He was waiting for her to nod.

Silvia frowned, looking away. "Dr. Ottolini, please proceed without it."

"But—"

"Now!"

Dante walked away. As he always did, he kissed Silvia's earlobe before leaving. It was the gesture he used when she had done exactly as he expected.

The needle pierced her skin again and again, working through muscle and flesh. Each stitch brought a sharper pain than the last.

Silvia gripped the corner of the table. The muscles along her neck tightened, veins visible beneath the skin, her nails cracking from the force of her hold.

She had been trained by Dante from a young age and pushed harder than anyone else. She had never thought that all that discipline and restraint would be used for this.

When the last stitch was done, Enrico cut the suture and looked at her weakened state with quiet reluctance. "Donna Valenti, it's done."

"Thank you."

Silvia let go of her numbed hand and made her way back to the living room, her steps uneven.

Dante was already on the stairs with Lucia in his arms. He paused when he heard her approach. From the landing above, he looked down at her. His gaze was distant, his face stripped of warmth.

Silvia waited, half expecting him to say something soft.

After a long moment, his voice came down to her, flat and controlled.

"Silvia, clean this up before you rest. Don't track blood everywhere. Lucia will have nightmares if she sees it."

The next evening, a black bulletproof sedan eased into a top-tier luxury jewelry store designated as a neutral zone.

Dante was behind the wheel. He brought Silvia into a private VIP vault that was never open to clients.

"Yesterday was your birthday. The Heart of the Sea arrived. I had it taken from an Azantrian warlord last year. I thought you should see it."

Silvia's right shoulder was still unhealed. The wound had yet to form a scab, and her expression was faintly unfocused.

There had been a time when their feelings were mutual. He had chosen her birthday for their wedding and promised that every year, on that same day, he would present her with a rare jewel as a pledge.

After that, another person came between them.

"Is your injury still painful?"

Dante met her eyes briefly in the rearview mirror, an uncharacteristic gesture of concern.

Silvia almost believed that what she had endured the night before, the ordeal of being stitched without anesthesia, had left him uneasy.

That belief faltered with Lucia seated beside him.

"Dante, the security here is incredible. It looks like something out of a film!" Lucia said brightly.

Silvia swallowed the sour weight in her chest. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, Rosetta Ceretti, and the words she had spoken before she died.

The Valenti family had once helped them. In repayment, Silvia had been trained harshly from a young age and had devoted herself to Dante's protection.

Now, even with someone else at his side, she continued to endure, honoring Rosetta's final wish.

In the inner room, the manager stepped forward in white gloves and presented a velvet case with both hands.

"Don Valenti, this is the piece you personally selected. The main diamond is 20 carats, with exceptional clarity. There is only one like it in the world."

The blue diamond was deep and luminous, recalling a tear taken from the sea itself.

Silvia's breath caught. Without thinking, she reached out, as though reaching for something she once believed in.

"It's beautiful! I've only seen diamonds like that on TV," Lucia said, her tone full of envy.

Her gaze soon dropped, and her voice softened.

"Silvia is so fortunate. I grew up in a slum. I nearly died fighting over a glass marble."

Dante had been examining the diamond's cut. Lucia's words drew his thoughts back to her past, to the years she spent fighting to survive, and pity quietly took hold.

He decided on the spot, his eyes crinkling with the same easy smile at Silvia. "Silvia, there's a tactical flaw in this necklace. It's not right for you."

Her fingers curled slightly. Her mood sank inch by inch.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked.

"You're responsible for my security. You're the family's sharpest blade. A necklace with a complex chain like this becomes a noose the moment a fight turns close range."

It was Silvia's birthday gift—proof that she was his wife, not just his soldato. She wasn't willing to compromise.

"Relax. No one in this area can get close to me."

Her pushback made Dante frown. He took it as stubbornness.

"I didn't say you can't wear it. But practicality comes first if you want to stay alive. Listen to me."

When he finished, his gaze shifted to Lucia's neck, and his voice softened. "Lucia, you've got a solo exhibition next week. As someone under my protection, how you present yourself reflects the family. I won't have other families looking down on you.

"Take this necklace and wear it. It'll hold the room."

Lucia looked up in shock, tears shining as she waved her hands. "I can't, Dante. That's Silvia's—"

"Don't refuse me," Dante cut her off. He picked up the priceless necklace and stepped behind her.

"Silvia doesn't care about dressing up. It'll just sit in a safe and gather dust. This suits your skin. With this on, I'd like to see who dares question your background."

He lowered his head and fastened the clasp at Lucia's neck, focused and gentle, every inch the devoted husband.

Silvia stood where she was, like someone who'd wandered into a world that was never meant for her.

Only after everything was settled did Dante seem to remember she was supposed to be the focus tonight.

"Oh, right. Didn't you have your eye on that Eisenland tactical knife before? I'll have the arms dealer send it over. I'll make it up to you with a top-tier personal combat loadout."

How considerate! He gave jewelry to the woman he loved and weapons to the soldato.

Silvia stayed stubborn. "I don't want compensation. I want what belongs to me."

Dante's gaze cooled, a warning slipping into his voice. "Don't push it! Top-grade weapons on the black market cost just as much as that pile of stones. I'm thinking of you.

"Wearing something like that while fighting is a good way to get yourself killed faster. Is that what you want?"

Lucia sensed the shift at once and hurried to explain, "Silvia, please don't be upset. I'm only borrowing it for a few days. If you really want it, I'll take it off right now."

She made a show of unfastening it, but her "clumsy" fingers couldn't get the clasp to budge, and panic reddened her eyes.

Dante pressed Lucia's hand down, his expression turning cold. "Enough! It's just a necklace. Is this really worth being this aggressive?"

He couldn't be bothered to look at Silvia again. He pulled Lucia along and strode for the door. "Ignore her. Come on. I'll take you to try the matching couture. Don't let this ruin your mood."

The manager stood awkwardly with the empty box. "Donna Valenti, how—"

"Throw it away."

A sharp burn flared again in Silvia's right shoulder. She drew her coat tighter around herself and let out a quiet breath.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I don't think I can hold on much longer. If I can't carry out your wish someday, please don't hold it against me."

She whispered the prayer to herself and tipped her head back, forcing the tears down.

Rivoria's headlines were wall-to-wall with Lucia's name.

Dante had rented out the largest art museum for her solo exhibition. Every major faction showed up.

Silvia was there, too. As Dante's wife, she wore a black suit meant for a fight, with an earpiece tucked in, and disappeared into a corner.

It was Dante's order.

"Everyone here tonight runs a family. Too many eyes, too many risks. A gown would slow you down. Lucia's the focus. You handle the perimeter and keep anyone unwanted from getting near her."

Silvia stood behind a column and watched him take Lucia's arm beneath the lights.

Lucia wore a shimmering mermaid gown. Around her neck hung the Heart of the Sea, the necklace that should've been Silvia's, the blue diamond throwing off a cold gleam that spoke the language of power.

Voices murmured all around them.

"Don Valenti really dotes on Ms. Pellini. He even gave her a diamond necklace like that!"

"Where's Donna Valenti? Why hasn't she appeared?"

"Keep it down! What Donna? She's nothing more than an 'elite soldato.' Have you ever seen a proper society wife standing guard in menswear?"

Silvia rubbed the web of her right hand without thinking. Years of gripping a gun had left the skin rough and thick with calluses. It didn't belong anywhere near fine jewelry.

When it came time to unveil the final piece, Lucia reached for the red silk draped over the easel.

That was the moment everything went wrong. The main support cable of the crystal chandelier overhead had been cut.

Screams tore through the crowd.

Lucia froze, shock wiping out even the instinct to run.

"Move!"

Silvia's body reacted faster than her mind. She burst forward and slammed into them, driving Lucia and Dante toward the safe side.

The crash was deafening. The chandelier fell and struck Silvia hard across the back. The broken gold-plated frame tore straight through her skin.

She let out a muffled grunt as both knees slammed into the floor. Blood sprayed outward. A few bright drops splattered across the painting nearby and spread into a dark, blooming stain.

Dante scooped up Lucia at once, pulling her tight against his chest, his words rushing out. "Lucia! Are you hurt? Did any of the shards cut you?"

"Dante, I'm scared… No! The painting… My painting!"

Only after he was sure Lucia was completely unharmed did he whip his head around.

Silvia thought he'd come help her or at least call for someone. His shout hit her instead, sharp and sudden.

"Silvia! Are you blind? That was tonight's featured piece! Lucia poured everything she had into that painting!"

Silvia struggled to breathe as she tried to push herself up. "Help me. It hurts…"

Only then did the people around them react, rushing forward together to drag the chandelier off her.

Lucia stared at the painting, tears falling in heavy drops. "My painting's ruined! It's covered in blood. Dante, this was meant for you. Silvia destroyed it!"

Seeing Lucia cry only fed the violence in Dante's chest.

Silvia forced the words out through the pain, "It was an accident! If I hadn't shoved her away, she'd be dead right now!"

"That's what you're supposed to do! The family's kept you all these years. As a made man, it's your job to take the hit for me, even if it kills you! But ruining the thing she loves most is your failure!

"How do you think those hands of yours could ever repay Lucia for her painting? Even if you cut them off and sold them, it still wouldn't be enough."

Silvia's gaze dimmed all at once, and the change grated on him.

"What are you standing around for? Get her treated. How annoying!"

Silvia made her way toward the exit at a measured pace, his gentle reassurance forcing its way into her ears.

"Lucia, don't cry. I'll find the best restorer there is. Even if it can't be fixed, I'll build you ten galleries to make up for it, alright?"

Silvia walked down the hallway and remembered that those same hands had once shielded her from a falling steel beam.

Back then, as the heir to the family, Dante had lost control for the first time. He'd held her while she was soaked in blood, terror shaking through him, wishing he could take her place.

Time was ruthless. It could turn treasure into trash and vows into jokes.