Just then, Salvatore's madre, Rosaria, slowly approached.

She wore a long, black velvet gown and clutched an ivory-handled cane.

She surveyed my son and me as if we were two stray dogs that had wandered into a sanctuary.

"This is the sacred ground of the Benedetto bloodline. What makes filthy mongrels like you think you're worthy of setting foot here?"

Giuseppe picked up the shattered box and trembled as he approached the family matriarch.

"Grandmother, happy festival!"

"This is a wooden rose Giuseppe carved for you."

Rosaria took the box but tossed it into the stone fireplace without a single glance.

The flames instantly devoured the gift he had spent three months creating.

The scent of burning wood and despair filled the air.

"What value could the handiwork of a bastard possibly have? It insults the Benedetto name."

"Exactly. A secret mistress of eight years daring to show her face before the true wife."

"By family law, a whore like this should have been sunk in the Sicilian Sea long ago."

The scornful remarks from the family members pierced Giuseppe like daggers.

He hung his head in anguish, tears splashing onto the stone floor.

On the way here, he had been too excited to sleep.

He'd said he could finally be recognized by his family, finally earn the acknowledgment of his papa and grandmother.

And now? The eight-year dream of belonging to this bloodline that had burned so brightly in his heart was reduced to ash.

"Mother, is it because I've tainted the bloodline?"

"Is it because I'm not worthy that papa has to abandon us?"

I wanted to rush to him, to hold him and tell him it wasn't his fault.

That he was the purest child in the world, and even without this family's approval, he was still his mother's pride.

But Carmela kicked me square in the chest.

My body slammed against a marble pillar. Chianti spilt across my white dress, staining it a deep, blood-red.

Giuseppe cried out and tried to run to me, but he was suddenly seized by a violent coughing fit.

He collapsed onto the cold stone floor, gasping for air, his face turning a deathly shade of blue.

I knew Giuseppe's asthma was flaring up.

Severe, life-threatening asthma. The town doctor had diagnosed it as incurable just a month ago.

I had held him in that shabby clinic and cried until dawn.

I had called Salvatore that night to tell him, but Carmela had answered.

She told me Salvatore was sleeping, completely exhausted after she'd had her way with him in bed.

She even described in lurid detail how they had made love in the bathtub late into the night.

I swallowed every ounce of my humiliation. If it weren't for Giuseppe's desperate longing for a papa's love, I would have taken him far away long ago.

I fought wildly against the men holding me, trying to get to Giuseppe.

Before I could reach him, before I could pull the emergency medicine from my pocket, Carmela's bodyguards pinned me down again.

"Let me go! Let me save my son!"

"Giuseppe is having an asthma attack! He'll suffocate and die without his injection!"

But every pair of eyes in the manor was cold as ice.

They thought I was putting on a clumsy ploy for pity.

Carmela strode over in her stilettos and slapped me across the face, her sharp nails scratching my skin.

"You thought you could get away with striking the lady of the house? Where's all that fight now?"

"Why aren't you resisting? You bitch!"

Salvatore picked up a crystal glass and threw the liquor in my face.

The alcohol stung my wounds, burning like fire.

"Lucia, are you done with your little show? I told you to leave. You forced my hand, made me humiliate you in public."

"Do you think Carmela would have laid a hand on you if you hadn't attacked her first?"

"All you're good for is embarrassing me in front of my family."

Seeing this cruelty, Giuseppe's desperation worsened, his breathing growing more and more labored.

His airways were spasming. My soul was being torn apart.

"You and your son will kneel and beg Carmela's forgiveness, as is our family's custom!"

Giuseppe's eyes were rolling back in his head from lack of oxygen, and still, all Salvatore cared about was defending his so-called wife.

"Salvatore, Giuseppe is really dying! Tell them to let me go!"

"Hah. What perfect timing. You're fine one minute, but the moment you're asked to apologize, you have an attack."

I fought with my last ounce of strength, but before my hand could even touch Giuseppe, Carmela kicked me down again.

This time, her stiletto heel stomped down hard on my right arm.

I heard the sickening crack of bone, and the agony nearly made me black out.

At that moment, Giuseppe stopped struggling. His eyes began to glaze over, the light of his life slowly fading.

He looked at me and, with his final breath, his lips parted.

"Mother... please take care of yourself..."

"I don't think... I can be with you anymore..."

The instant he closed his eyes, the bodyguards dragged me up by my hair.

They slammed my head against the stone floor, again and again, until my face was a bloody mess.

They forced me to bow before Carmela in submission, each blow splitting my skin.

After three agonizing impacts, they weren't finished. Two guards hoisted me up by my arms.

In accordance with Sicily's most humiliating punishment, they were going to make me crawl between Carmela's open legs.

"As you crawl through, remember to kiss my toes," she purred.

"Let everyone see what a filthy animal looks like."

Carmela watched the spectacle as the men of the family began to hoot with laughter.

Salvatore stood on the steps in the distance, watching the bloody ritual of submission with a blank expression.

There was no pity in his eyes. Only cold, distant indifference.

Fighting through the searing pain in my body, I staggered to Giuseppe's side.

His eyes were closed, his chest barely moving.

I gathered his cold body in my arms, my vision blurred with tears, and ran from Benedetto manor.

But Carmela had already ordered the family enforcers to guard the manor gate.

Two black-clad bodyguards crossed their shotguns, firmly blocking the way.

Under Sicilian rules, this was house arrest—a punishment for traitors.

I held Giuseppe and wept in despair under the moonlight.

Left with no choice, I ran back to the manor, begging every single Benedetto family member for help, like a madwoman.

But not one of them was willing to defy Rosaria's will to help me.

In the Benedetto family, the matriarch's word was law.

I rushed back inside with my son, searching for Salvatore.

But outside the wine cellar door, I saw him. He was on top of Carmela, thrusting savagely against her.

They were fucking wildly on a century-old oak barrel, completely indifferent to our son's life.

Carmela's moans echoed off the stone walls, like a demonic curse.

A tearing pain in my chest nearly ripped my soul apart.

I would never again beg any of those beasts from the Benedetto family.

Disheveled and clutching Giuseppe, I was prepared to die with him.

It was then that I saw Salvatore’s underboss, Marco.

He was in his black Ford sedan.

Without a word, he drove us to town.

It was the only time he ever disobeyed a family order to help us.

But by the time I got Giuseppe to the crude village clinic, it was too late.

I collapsed before the wooden operating table, tearing at my hair in agony.

My tears fell like a Sicilian downpour, relentless and unending.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Salvatore.

"Lucia, where did you take the boy?"

"Listen to me, don't be angry. There were… complications tonight."

"Our rival families have been watching us. If I had acknowledged you in public, they would have had leverage, a weakness. I was afraid you'd be hurt."

"So I had to let you be humiliated for a while. It was to protect you."

But I no longer believed a word he said.

My heart was being consumed by a grief so profound that every breath tasted of blood.

Sensing my silence, a note of panic entered Salvatore's voice.

"Lucia, are you angry about the signet ring?"

"I—"

"Salvatore, I'm so itchy right here. Come lick me with your tongue," Carmela's slutty moan came through the phone, cutting off Salvatore's excuses.

He had forgotten to hang up. I could hear the sickening sounds of him and that bitch fucking.

"Salvatore, I don't remember any rival families watching us. So why did you lie to Lucia about the fake ring?"

"Because if I had actually acknowledged Lucia according to blood tradition, the other families would look down on our winery business. They'd say the Benedettos had fallen. Madre would never have handed the family over to me."

"Besides, Lucia's common blood truly would stain the honor of our Benedetto nobility."

"The ancient families of Sicily are not for any low-born girl to climb into…"

I didn't listen to the rest. I smashed the phone to pieces.

Witnessing this, Marco took off his black fedora, murmured, "May Giuseppe rest in peace," and vanished into the night.

I picked up Giuseppe's stiffening body and softly sang an old Sicilian lullaby.

I told him his favorite stories of saints and woodcarvers.

His body grew colder and colder. I took off my black mourning coat and wrapped it around him.

I wanted to make my child a little warmer in this cruel world.

But no matter how I held him, I couldn't warm his small, cold body. I broke down sobbing once more.

The old town doctor couldn't bear to watch any longer. He gently touched my shoulder and urged me to accept my loss.

After crying for a day and a night, I buried Giuseppe myself in the cemetery of the small church outside of town.

On his headstone, I had his favorite wooden rose carved.

The gift he would never get to give.

I walked out of the cemetery, a hollow shell wandering the cobblestone streets.

Only when the sun set behind the distant mountains, painting Sicily the color of blood, did I finally accept the reality that Giuseppe was gone forever.

Returning to the area near the manor, I saw the small villa Salvatore had once prepared for me, a testament to his once-fervent courtship.

But now, as I pushed open the dust-covered, carved wooden door, I saw a pair of handmade Italian leather boots on the porch.

And beside them, a pair of crystal-heeled women's shoes.

The murderers of my son were inside.

My eyes bloodshot, I kicked open the villa's carved door.

Hearing the commotion, Salvatore instantly rolled off Carmela.

His neck was covered in bite marks, his body still hard with arousal.

The moment he saw me, consumed by rage, he began interrogating me before I could even speak.

"Lucia, where the hell have you been all night, dragging that little bastard around?"

"I came here tonight to inform you of something, as custom demands, so you can't say I don't keep you in mind."

"Tomorrow is my official wedding to Carmela, a proper church ceremony. My madre insists that you be there to witness it."

"It's so you can finally give up, in front of all of Sicily's nobility, and stop dishonoring the Benedetto name."

"So don't make a scene like a madwoman again tomorrow. Behave yourself."

"If you're good, once I have full control of the family winery, I'll arrange a suitable place for you and the boy."

I gently set down the file containing Giuseppe's death certificate, ignoring Salvatore's bullshit.

I walked straight to the bedside table, grabbed the Venetian crystal vase, and smashed it over Carmela's head.

If she hadn't blocked me, I wouldn't have lost so much precious time.

Giuseppe might have been saved from the clutches of death.

I threw her down onto the expensive silk sheets. The fire of my blood feud burned away all fear of consequence.

I brandished a sharp shard from the vase and slashed at her face and body, again and again.

Blood splattered across the white sheets like blooming poppies.

This terrified Salvatore. He grabbed my arm, trying to restrain me.

"Lucia, have you gone insane?"

"This has nothing to do with Carmela! It was my madre who demanded I marry her for the sake of the family's interests!"

"Once we're married and take over the winery empire, then we can deal with your situation."

"Stop it! Just stop!"

I couldn't hear any of his excuses. I only wanted to kill the serpent who had murdered my Giuseppe.

The Sicilian code of vendetta demands that the murder of one's child be paid in blood.

I would make her pay.

Seeing that I was unmoved, Salvatore snatched a leather whip from the wall and furiously lashed it across my back.

Blood instantly soaked through my black mourning dress. He kicked me down onto the marble floor.

"Is that enough?"

"When did you become this raving lunatic? I am one step away from controlling the entire family!"

He helped Carmela up, tenderly checking her wounds.

I endured the piercing pain and let out a wild, desperate laugh.

"Hahaha!"

I laughed until tears streamed down my face, my entire soul swallowed by a dark, all-consuming grief.

My body swayed, on the verge of collapsing completely.

"Salvatore, oh, Salvatore. For the power of the Benedetto family, you killed your own flesh and blood with your own hands."

"And you would even stop me from avenging him. Are you even human?"

Salvatore shot to his feet, forgetting Carmela as he seized me by the shoulders.

"What did you say? What nonsense are you talking about?"

"My Giuseppe is dead?"

His voice was shaking violently. His hands were trembling.

But a second later, he shoved me away and let out a cold, dismissive sneer.

"You're lying. You've cooked up this vicious lie to ruin my wedding to Carmela."

"You disappoint me, Lucia. To think you could utter such a curse against your own son."

"If you truly love me, you'll show up at the wedding tomorrow and stop embarrassing yourself like a shrew."

"Help me secure my full inheritance of the winery."

If he had said these things to me sooner, I never would have brought Giuseppe anywhere near the Benedetto estate.

But my Giuseppe was dead.

Forget his wedding. I never wanted to see this monster again for all eternity.

He put his arm around Carmela and left the villa without a backward glance.

The next day, I held a simple Requiem Mass for Giuseppe in the old stone church outside of town.

Not a single person came to mourn the innocent child.

Everyone I knew had gone to the grandest wedding of the season at the main cathedral.

After the funeral, I clutched Giuseppe's belongings.

Without an ounce of regret, I turned my back and left the cursed lands of the Benedetto family forever.

Meanwhile, at the wedding, Salvatore grew anxious when I failed to appear.

In front of hundreds of Sicilian nobles, he completely lost his composure.

He sent his men frantically searching for me, but I was nowhere to be found.

A panic, like a venomous snake, began to eat away at his sanity.

He barely registered the questions from Carmela and Rosaria, giving them distracted, dismissive answers.

It wasn't until the priest asked if he, Salvatore, was willing to take Carmela as his wife according to God's will, that his underboss, Marco, suddenly stood up from the pews.

"Don Benedetto, I must tender my resignation from all duties, as the family code requires."

"But before I leave, there is a brutal truth I must report to you."

"Your son, Giuseppe, is dead. And Lucia has taken his belongings and left Sicily forever."

"In her words, she will not be coming back."