The door swung open.

"Stop!"

Roberto rushed in and snatched the gun from my hand. He was so fast that I didn't even see how he'd managed to do it.

He hurled the gun into the corner, and it hit the carpet with a dull thud.

"Are you out of your mind?" he screamed. His grip on my shoulders was so tight it hurt. "Eva, look at me! Look at me!"

I lifted my head. Roberto's face showed an expression I had never seen before. There was panic, fury, and something more complicated beneath—pain.

"Why?"

His voice shook. "Why would you do this?"

I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell him about the poisoned wine and how I only had six days left. But only broken sobs came out.

The tears finally spilled over. "I… I didn't do anything… Emanuela said I stole her jewelry and tried to seduce Benedetto. She even said that I drugged Alessandro's drink. I didn't do any of it. Why won't any of you believe me?"

Roberto pulled me into his arms.

It was the first time in five years anyone had held me.

His embrace was warm. He smelled like antiseptic with a hint of woody cologne. I froze, then clung to his lab coat as if I were a drowning woman grabbing onto driftwood.

"I believe you," he whispered into my ear. "Eva, I believe you."

"Really?"

"Really." He let me go, cupped my face in both hands, and brushed away my tears with his thumbs. "Listen to me. You can't die. You have to live until the truth comes out."

His eyes were soft in the low light. For one brief moment, I believed him.

"But…" I began, reminded of the poisoned wine. "There isn't much time left…"

"What do you mean?"

I shook my head. I couldn't tell him. What was there to explain? That I had fought for five years, only to lose to Emanuela and end up drinking poison?

I lowered my gaze. "It's nothing. I'm just… tired."

Roberto sighed and guided me to the bed. He opened a medical kit and prepared a sedative with practiced ease. "You need rest. Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

The needle barely hurt. The medication worked fast. My consciousness started to slip away.

Through the haze, I heard Roberto on the phone.

"Yes. She's extremely unstable. She needs to be isolated and observed. I'll handle it."

I wanted to ask who he was talking to, but my eyelids were too heavy.

Just before I slipped away, I felt his hand gently brush through my hair.

"Sleep well, Eva," his voice echoed faintly. "I'll protect you."

…

When I woke up, I wasn't in my usual room.

The ceiling was an unfamiliar off-white. The walls matched. The space held only a bed, a nightstand, and a chair. There were no windows. Just a heavy iron door.

I sat up abruptly. Dizziness crashed over me.

"You're awake."

Roberto's voice came from the corner. He sat in the chair and had a medical file in his hands.

"Where is this?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"The family sanatorium," he said, closing the file. "It's a… quieter floor. You need peace, Eva."

My heart started racing as I looked around. "The sanatorium? Why did you bring me here?"

"Did you forget what happened last night?"

Roberto moved to the bed and sat on the edge. "You tried to kill yourself. Twice. Once at the river, and another time with a gun. According to family protocol, anyone with severe self-destructive tendencies must be placed under protective custody."

"Protective custody…" I repeated, the words clicking into place. "This was Emanuela's idea, wasn't it?"

Roberto's expression froze.

"She's worried about you," he said, averting his gaze.

"Worried?" I snorted. "She wants me gone, Roberto. You know that. You know exactly how she is!"

"Eva, you're still saying that? Emanuela postponed her honeymoon because of you. She was so worried that she hadn't slept all night." Roberto's voice had gone cold.

I threw off the blanket and tried to get up, but Roberto pressed me back down. "Worried I hadn't finished the job?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out of here!" I said, struggling. "I want to see Alessandro and Benedetto…"

Roberto's tone was terrifyingly calm. "They won't see you. Alessandro's handling business on the West Shore. Benedetto and Emanuela are preparing for their honeymoon. What you need right now is treatment, not theatrics."

Treatment?

I stared at him. He felt like a stranger to me. The man who once handed me hot cocoa and smiled at me like I mattered now looked at me with eyes as cold as ice.

"You think I'm insane, too, don't you?"

"You need help, Eva."

He stood and walked to the door. "It's safe here. No one will hurt you here. Get some rest. I'll check on you later."

"Roberto!"

He stopped at the doorway but didn't turn around.

"Would you..." I hesitated. "Would you believe me if I told you that if I don't die soon, I'll face an even worse death later?"

Silence. A long, suffocating silence.

Then, he said, "Don't say that, Eva. Take your medication. You'll get better."

The door opened, then closed. The lock clicked sharply.

I collapsed on the bed and wrapped my arms around myself.

The poison was still working. I could feel it moving through my veins like tiny needles that left numbness wherever it passed. A dull ache began in my stomach. The first stage of organ damage had begun.

Tomorrow, I would only have five days left.

…

Two days later, the iron door opened again.

Benedetto and Emanuela entered the room.

Emanuela was in a wheelchair. Her leg was in a cast, and her face was pale. Benedetto followed behind her. He looked worn out, with shadows under his eyes. His jaw was covered in stubble.

"Eva," Emanuela weakly began. "Are you alright?"

I didn't answer and just stared at her.

She was beautiful. She looked like a painting even while she was "injured" and in a wheelchair. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders. Her eyes shimmered with tears, showcasing how fragile she was.

"We heard you…" Benedetto began, then faltered. "Roberto said your emotions are unstable."

"I'm fine. Better than the one in the wheelchair."

Emanuela's eyes filled instantly.

"Eva! Emanuela got into a car accident while bringing you clean clothes! How could you say something like that?" he snapped.

Clean clothes. I glanced at the small travel bag by Emanuela's feet. So, that was what the staged accident was for. To showcase her generosity.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "Thank you, Emanuela."

She forced a smile. "We're family, Eva. Even if we've had some… misunderstandings before, I truly want you to recover."

Misunderstandings.

Locking me in the family vault overnight was a misunderstanding to her.

Drugging my drink so I humiliated myself in front of clients was a misunderstanding.

Forging evidence that I colluded with rival families was a misunderstanding.

"Emanuela needs another surgery. She's Rh-negative. The blood bank is short," Benedetto said suddenly.

I connected the dots. That was why they were here.

"I'm Rh-negative, too."

Benedetto looked at me, conflicted. "Yes. Roberto checked the records. Only you and Emanuela share that blood type in the family."

"So you want some of my blood."

"You'll help, won't you?"

Emanuela reached for my hand. I pulled away. "Eva, please. The doctors say I need at least 800 cc of blood or my life could be in danger…"

I looked at her pleading face and almost laughed.

"Fine. If you're not afraid of death, go ahead and take my blood," I said, each word deliberate.