"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.