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."

I watched my parents leave the visitation room.

Their backs looked older than when they had arrived.

The pain they carried was something no apology could ever erase.

As they disappeared behind the guard, the phone in my hand pulled me back to reality.

The cold walls of the prison surrounded me again.

"Adriana!"

Bianca's voice came through the receiver, filled with anger and worry.

"I already heard about what that bastard Salvatore did. Are you alright?"

I lowered my eyes.

"Don't waste your energy worrying about me. You need to focus on recovering."

Her breathing became heavier.

"I told you not to go out that day."

"And now look at you. You're stuck in prison, while I'm lying here in a hospital bed doing nothing but staring at the ceiling."

I remembered what had happened before all of this.

When Salvatore had been away handling business for the family, Bianca had offered to come keep me company.

But something happened on her way there.

Her car hit a man.

The injuries were not serious, but the man stayed in the family's private clinic for several days.

Bianca stayed by his bedside until he was discharged.

She never knew his identity.

She only remembered one detail.

A dark birthmark on his lower leg.

At the time, everyone thought the matter had been handled quietly.

But shortly afterward, someone targeted Bianca.

While she was recovering at home, a car suddenly crashed into her.

It was disguised as an accident.

There were no cameras on that road.

No witnesses.

No evidence.

The person responsible was never found.

Bianca could only swallow the injustice.

Later, she discovered the truth.

The man she had hit belonged to the Falcone family.

After learning that, everything became clear.

The Falcones were known for being cold and calculating.

They valued balance above everything else.

Every debt had to be repaid.

Every mistake had a price.

Bianca's father had worked with them before, so she understood their rules better than most.

The Falcones never let a debt remain unsettled.

"Wait."

Her voice suddenly changed.

"What did you say?"

"That man was a Falcone?"

I heard movement on the other end of the line.

Bianca had probably pushed herself upright despite her injuries.

The pieces were finally connecting in her mind.

She had never understood why I had chosen to sacrifice myself for Salvatore.

But now she was beginning to see the truth.

Her fingers moved unconsciously toward the scar on her arm.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Then she quietly nodded.

"Adriana..."

Her voice softened.

"Take care of yourself."

"When I recover, I'll come see you."

After the call ended, my mother's words returned to my mind.

"The victim is awake now..."

A faint smile appeared on my lips.

Finally.

It was time to move my own pieces.

I still had five minutes before the guards came to take me back.

I reached for the small piece of paper hidden in my palm.

The number written on it was the next step of my plan.

I was about to dial.

Then the phone rang again.

"Bianca?"

I answered immediately.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll find a way out."

I was about to hang up.

Then a low voice came through the receiver.

"Adriana."

"It's me."

My entire body froze.

The phone nearly slipped from my hand.

"You're..."

My voice trembled.

"You're really awake."

I wanted to say more.

I had a thousand questions.

But before he could answer, the visitation time ended.

The call was cut off.

The guard took the phone away from me.

I returned to my cell holding the paper tightly.

The number I never dialed remained in my hand.

My mind was already working.

The next move had to be perfect.

No mistakes.

No hesitation.

If I wanted another chance to contact the outside world, I needed to cooperate.

So for the next few days, I decided to become the most obedient prisoner.

Quiet.

Patient.

Invisible.

That night, I went to sleep early.

But the moment I closed my eyes, memories rushed back.

Memories of Salvatore.

We met when we were young.

I fell in love with him the first time I saw him.

For months, I chased after him.

Slowly, we moved closer.

It felt like fate had placed us on the same road.

On a warm summer night, he suddenly held a party.

In front of everyone we knew, he knelt before me with flowers and a ring.

He promised me his entire future.

We married on my twentieth birthday.

"Adriana, you will always be the only woman I love."

"I can't live without you."

"Adriana, hold on. I'm almost at the clinic. You and the baby have to be safe."

"Matteo is crying again. Can you take care of him? I have something to handle."

"Take the child away. Don't embarrass me in front of my friends."

His words echoed in my mind.

Promises.

Excuses.

Cruelty.

Each memory tightened around my heart like a chain.

Cold sweat covered my forehead.

"Rizzo!"

The guard's voice exploded through the speaker.

"Wake up!"

I opened my eyes suddenly.

I wiped away the sweat on my face and began another day inside the prison.

I had not been here long.

But some of the older inmates had already decided they disliked me.

Because I worked without complaining, they looked for ways to make my life harder.

During meals, they threw their leftovers into my bowl.

Before lights-out, they poured dirty water onto my mattress.

Then one night, they went too far.

I couldn't endure it anymore.

I walked across the cell.

My anger finally broke through.

"What exactly do you want?"

I threw their cruelty back at them.

But instead of backing down, they became even more excited.

One of them stepped forward.

Before I could react, her hand struck my face.

The force sent me crashing onto the floor.