Enzo and I had once walked the same path.

We met in law school, studying the same craft. We spent years buried in legal codes, analyzing loopholes, and learning how to protect the interests of powerful families without leaving a trace behind.

Enzo was disciplined and ambitious. After graduation, he passed the bar and became the kind of legal adviser that families like ours trusted with their most dangerous secrets.

I passed as well.

But instead of joining a firm, I chose another road.

I married Salvatore.

After becoming his wife, I took over the legal matters of the Ortega family and handled the countless problems that came with their world.

Enzo and I both understood what it meant to carry another person's burden.

In our world, once a verdict was finalized, escaping it was almost impossible.

Unless someone could produce undeniable evidence strong enough to overturn everything, the person who took the blame would spend the rest of their life behind bars.

Wronged.

Forgotten.

Silent.

That was the price of loyalty.

That was the meaning of omertà.

Thinking about it now, I couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh.

I had always known this path was dangerous.

I knew every step was filled with risks.

Yet I still chose to believe Salvatore.

I still chose him.

I lowered my head and said nothing.

My mother noticed the tears gathering in my eyes.

She leaned closer across the old table, her voice trembling.

"Adriana, did Salvatore threaten you?"

"Tell me the truth."

"Your father and I will stand beside you, no matter who we have to face."

She held my hand tighter.

"Or is it because you truly love him that much?"

"Do you really love him enough to sacrifice your entire life?"

I looked at her and forced a small smile.

Then I slowly shook my head.

Salvatore and I had been married for seven years.

But we had known each other for nearly ten.

He had become part of my daily life, part of my memories, part of the future I had imagined.

A future where I never considered the possibility of him not being there.

After a long silence, I finally nodded.

My mother understood she couldn't change my mind.

So she gave up trying to persuade me and turned to the things mothers always worried about.

"Adriana, when you go in there, don't trust anyone."

"Protect yourself. Protect the baby."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Even if we lose everything, your father and I will find a way to bring you home."

"You have to promise me..."

Before she could finish, the guard looked at the clock.

Then he cleared his throat several times.

The meaning was obvious.

Our time was over.

The guard stepped forward.

As they pulled me away, my mother refused to let go of my hand.

She held on with every bit of strength she had left.

But the moment my fingers slipped from hers, she lost her balance.

She fell heavily onto the cold floor.

My mother remained there, silently crying.

From the corner of the room, Gia watched everything.

She quickly pulled back when she noticed someone might see her.

A satisfied smile appeared on her face.

I still hadn't exposed Salvatore.

Not once.

Not a single word.

To Gia, that meant she had won.

My father stood nearby, his fists tightly clenched.

His anger burned so intensely that his entire body trembled, but there was nothing he could do.

Salvatore watched me being taken away from my mother.

Then his eyes fell on the dissolution papers I had thrown aside earlier.

He picked them up.

His fingers brushed over the pages, and he slowly wiped his palm against his trousers before speaking.

That habit again.

The one he had whenever he was hiding something.

He had never believed I would actually sign.

For seven years, he had seen me as the perfect wife.

Understanding.

Patient.

Quiet.

The woman who never demanded too much, never caused trouble, and always stood behind him whenever he needed someone to clean up the damage.

In his eyes, I was the person who would never leave.

The person who would always forgive him.

He never imagined that a few simple words would be enough for me to cut the bond between us.

A strange emotion rose inside him.

Relief.

Even satisfaction.

But with everyone watching, he forced himself to lower his head and maintain the appearance of a guilty husband.

Then he looked up and met my father's furious gaze.

My father walked over and took the agreement from his hands.

The moment he saw my signature, his expression changed.

He couldn't believe it was real.

"If you still have even a little conscience left, then take care of Matteo."

His voice was cold.

"And from today onward, you stay away from anything involving Adriana."

He threw the signed papers onto the floor and turned back to help my mother stand.

Gia didn't care about my father's anger.

She only smiled.

To her, everything was already decided.

She walked over and wrapped her arm around Salvatore's.

"That was easier than I expected."

Her voice was filled with excitement.

"Come on, Salvatore. You can move my things into the Ortega estate now."

Matteo stood beside Salvatore, tugging at his leg.

"Daddy, I want new toys."

He was too young to understand what had happened.

Too young to know that his family had already changed forever.

Gia crouched down and gently stroked his hair.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"Whatever you want, Mommy will buy it for you."

Matteo smiled brightly and reached for her.

He threw himself into Gia's arms.

Salvatore held her hand tightly.

Then he turned away.

Leaving with Gia.

Leaving with Matteo.

Leaving behind the woman who had once sacrificed everything for him.

His new family.

The whispers of the people around us spread through the hall like a storm.

"She just got sentenced, and they are already forcing her to dissolve the marriage?"

"That woman beside him must be the mistress. She actually stood there and watched the wife get destroyed."

"Her parents almost collapsed because of them. How cruel can they be?"

"The wife is too kind. If it were me, I would make them regret everything the moment I got out."

The voices grew louder.

In a world where people were taught to hide their emotions and swallow their opinions, the crowd no longer cared about silence.

Everyone could see what had happened.

Everyone knew who the real victim was.

My father noticed that my mother was crying uncontrollably.

Her breathing became faster and more uneven until she could no longer stand.

She collapsed.

The family's private clinic later determined that she had suffered severe hyperventilation and showed signs of possible poisoning.

The medical staff rushed in immediately and carried her away in an ambulance.

The entire hall fell into chaos.

The anger of the crowd turned directly toward Salvatore and Gia.

For the first time, Gia's expression changed.

She didn't care about the rumors themselves.

She had already gotten everything she wanted.

She had taken Salvatore.

She had forced me out of the Ortega family.

That was enough.

She grabbed Salvatore's arm and pulled him away.

Before leaving, she glanced at Enzo with a victorious smile.

Enzo said nothing.

He only removed his glasses and slowly cleaned them.

It was the gesture of a man trying to stay calm while watching something he couldn't yet fix.

Salvatore, however, had his own complicated emotions.

Part of him was touched by what I had done for him.

A part of him was relieved.

After years of hiding his feelings, he could finally bring Gia back into his life openly.

On the way home, he had already prepared flowers and gifts for her, treating it like a celebration of her long-awaited return.

Gia was overwhelmed with happiness.

She threw herself into his arms, smiling brightly.

Her joy stood in sharp contrast to the grief and anger they had left behind.

When they returned to the Ortega estate, Gia immediately began removing every trace of me.

She packed my belongings herself and ordered the servants to throw them into the dusty storage room.

The wedding portrait hanging in the center of the living room caught her attention.

To her, it was the last reminder that I had once belonged in this house.

She stared at it for several seconds.

Then she looked at Salvatore.

He said nothing.

That silence was permission.

Gia stepped forward and ripped the frame from the wall.

The photo crashed onto the floor.

The memory of seven years was treated like something worthless.

At five months pregnant, Gia had once appeared gentle and fragile.

But the moment she looked at Matteo, that kindness disappeared.

"We need space for the baby."

Her voice was cold.

"Matteo's room has to be given up."

Salvatore didn't even hesitate.

He was busy helping her organize her things.

"Do whatever you think is best."

Those simple words decided everything.

Gia gathered Matteo's belongings and dragged him toward the attic.

She threw his toys and clothes onto the damp wooden floor.

"This is your room now."

Her tone carried obvious impatience.

"Don't come downstairs unless there is something important."

Then she left without looking back.

Matteo stood alone in the dark attic.

He hugged his favorite toy tightly.

Cold air slipped through the cracks in the walls.

On the floor beside him were the broken pieces of a jade bracelet.

The bracelet I had made for him on his third birthday.

Gia had destroyed it earlier when she became annoyed.

Matteo stared at the broken pieces.

He didn't move.

Then, without noticing the sharp fragments beneath his feet, he stepped forward.

A piece of jade cut into his skin.

He fell to the ground with a cry, clutching his bleeding foot.

No one came.

Before this day, whenever he was hurt, I was always the first person beside him.

I would hold him.

Clean his wounds.

Tell him everything would be alright.

But now there was only silence.

After that first cry, Matteo stopped making a sound.

He had learned that crying did not always bring comfort.

Sometimes it only brought more anger.

So he curled up alone in the attic, letting his tears fall quietly.

Downstairs, Gia looked around the estate with satisfaction.

Finally.

She had everything she had wanted.

She turned toward Salvatore with excitement.

"She already signed the dissolution papers."

A smile appeared on her face.

"Let's complete the ceremony in a few days."

She had waited too long for this moment.

When Salvatore nodded, the last bit of anxiety in her heart disappeared.

But Salvatore was not as calm as she was.

Since returning home, his expression had remained troubled.

I had been too calm.

Too obedient.

That was what frightened him.

He couldn't understand why I had accepted everything so easily.

A thought kept returning to him.

What if one day I revealed the truth?

What if the verdict was overturned?

What if everyone discovered what he had done?

He wiped his palm against his trousers again.

The same habit.

The same sign of unease.

He forced himself to believe it was nothing.

But the fear remained.

Inside the family's private clinic, my mother finally opened her eyes after being unconscious for a long time.

"You finally woke up."

My father broke down beside the hospital bed.

His tears fell as he held his wife's hand.

The moment my mother realized I wasn't there, panic filled her eyes.

"Adri..."

That was the first word she spoke.

Enzo quickly stepped forward to calm them.

"I've already submitted the visitation request."

His voice was gentle.

"You will be able to see her tomorrow."

"Just wait one more day."

Even a short visit to the prison was enough.

That small hope was enough to keep them going.

Meanwhile, in another hospital wing...

Inside the intensive care unit, Adrian's fingers moved slightly.

Then his eyes opened.

Despite his serious injuries and the damage to his body, his mind was already working.

The doctor noticed the change immediately.

After confirming that Adrian's condition had stabilized, they transferred him to a regular ward for further observation.

But no one knew that the man who had just woken up would soon change everything.

On the day of the prison visitation, my parents left before dawn.

They wanted to arrive as early as possible.

Enzo was supposed to travel with them, but halfway there, he suddenly changed direction.

"There is something urgent I need to handle," he said.

The truth was far more complicated.

Through his own network of contacts, Enzo had learned that Adrian Falcone had regained consciousness.

The moment he heard the news, he acted.

Before Salvatore could discover that Adrian was awake, Enzo went straight to the family's private clinic to meet him.

The Ortega family was standing at a critical turning point.

Their businesses were slowly moving toward legitimacy. The front operations they had built were gaining momentum, and everything they had worked for was finally beginning to take shape.

But one accident could destroy everything.

A body.

A witness.

A survivor who could speak.

Any one of those things could drag the entire family back into the darkness.

If Salvatore learned Adrian was alive, Enzo knew exactly what would happen.

Men like them did not leave dangerous loose ends behind.

A living witness meant the possibility of the truth coming out.

A dead witness meant the case could never be overturned.

Only silence could keep me buried behind prison walls forever.

Enzo understood that better than anyone.

So before the halls of the clinic had even filled with people, he was already there.

As always, he had investigated everything carefully.

On the surface, Adrian Falcone was simply the underboss of the Falcone family.

But the truth was far more complicated.

He was Don Falcone's illegitimate son.

A man connected to the family's bloodline, even if his official position had not yet been recognized.

Adriana and Adrian had known each other since childhood.

They grew up in the same world.

But when they became adults, Adrian's people sent him overseas, and the connection between them slowly faded until nothing remained.

Enzo's visit was a gamble.

A single question decided everything.

Would Adrian remember who had truly been driving that car?

When Adrian saw a stranger sitting across from him, his guard immediately went up.

No matter what Enzo said, Adrian remained silent.

Suspicious.

Cold.

Unwilling to trust anyone.

But Enzo had come prepared.

He removed his glasses, cleaned them slowly, then placed them back on his face.

Only after that did he take out the official documents.

He explained everything.

The accident.

The investigation.

My confession.

The trial.

The sentence.

And the fact that I had taken his place.

"She confessed?"

Those were the first words Adrian spoke.

His voice was low.

Almost emotionless.

But something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

Even after Enzo explained their history, even after he told Adrian that he and I had studied law together and that my parents had asked him to handle my case, Adrian still kept his distance.

He did not give Enzo an answer.

Not a promise.

Not even a clear reaction.

Enzo left the clinic empty-handed.

But he knew something had changed.

Something had awakened.

Not long after, Adrian arranged a quiet transfer out of the private clinic.

No one knew where he went.

Inside the prison visitation room, a thick glass wall separated me from my parents.

Only one day had passed since I was sentenced.

But to them, it felt like years.

The moment my mother saw me, her eyes filled with tears.

I had lost weight.

My face looked tired.

The prison uniform made me appear even more distant from the daughter she remembered.

But I forced myself to smile.

I pretended I had accepted everything.

Instead of letting them comfort me, I comforted them.

Then my mother's phone rang.

Her expression immediately darkened.

She looked annoyed before answering, as if she already knew who it was.

And she was right.

When she saw my confused expression, she slowly turned the screen toward me.

Salvatore's posts filled the page.

One after another.

Every single one showed his new life with Gia.

The first post read:

"Gia's first day home. She is sleeping so peacefully."

The photo showed Gia lying in the master bedroom.

The same room that once belonged to me.

She wore my favorite nightgown.

Her expression looked soft and satisfied.

There were faint marks along her neck and collarbone.

I looked away.

The next post appeared.

"Made breakfast for Gia with my own hands. I hope she likes it."

The picture showed a table filled with carefully prepared food.

I stared at it.

The same man who had always claimed he couldn't cook.

The same man who said even boiling water was too much trouble.

For seven years, I believed him.

Even when I was sick with a high fever, barely able to stand, I had begged him for help.

The only thing he made was a bowl of plain porridge.

And even then, he placed it in front of me with impatience, as if caring for me was a burden.

So it was never that he couldn't do it.

It was only that I was never worth the effort.

Then I saw the post he had pinned at the top.

"Some reunions are written by fate. The right person will always be waiting for you."

The picture showed Salvatore and Gia holding hands.

Behind them was a flower wall.

A flower wall I had built for his birthday.

With my own hands.

I had spent months searching for the perfect flowers.

I had cut my fingers countless times while arranging them into a giant heart.

I thought it was a symbol of our love.

But now that same heart had become the background of his public confession to another woman.

The comments were filled with blessings.

And mixed among them were whispers attacking me.

People called me cruel.

Called me a burden.

Called me someone who had trapped him.

How ironic.

I was the last person to know the truth about my own marriage.

I clenched my fists tightly.

My nails pressed into my palms.

My mother noticed the pain in my eyes and quickly put away the phone.

She changed the subject.

"Enzo said the victim woke up."

Her voice lowered as she leaned closer to the glass.

"Adriana, don't give up."

"Your father and I will find a way."

"We will do everything we can to bring you home."

Everything had already been decided.

The truth had already been buried.

But even now, my parents were still fighting for me.

That love hurt more than anything.

My eyes burned.

But I said nothing.

At that moment, my closest friend Bianca called.

My parents stood up and left, giving me a little time alone with her.

Before walking away, my mother turned back one last time.

"The victim is awake now."

"We will go see him."

"We will beg him to help you."

"Maybe... maybe your sentence can still be reduced."