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.

"You filthy bitch! How dare you walk in here like you belong?"

The moment the words fell, I knew there would be no mercy.

I was alone.

They were many.

And inside these walls, the guards looked away as long as the price was right.

I barely had time to react before they surrounded me.

Hands grabbed my hair.

Fists landed against my body.

Then the kicks came.

One after another.

My back hit the floor.

Pain exploded through every inch of me.

A sharp, unbearable agony tore through my abdomen.

Then I felt it.

Something warm slipping down my legs.

My blood ran cold.

No.

Not my child.

Not now.

But they didn't stop.

They had been paid to break me.

And they intended to finish the job.

Only after their anger was satisfied did they finally step away.

The woman leading them, the one who controlled this section of the prison, looked down at me with a satisfied smile.

She stuffed the money she had received into her pocket, then handed portions of it to the others.

The payment was generous.

"Thank you, sisters."

She smiled.

"Easy work, wasn't it? And the money wasn't bad either."

I couldn't speak.

My mouth was filled with the taste of blood.

My hands and feet were bound.

A piece of cloth covered my mouth.

But my eyes remained fixed on them.

Cold.

Silent.

Filled with hatred.

I knew exactly what this was.

This wasn't a random beating.

Someone outside had paid for my suffering.

Someone wanted to destroy me.

Someone wanted to make sure I never walked out of this prison.

I endured the pain until my consciousness slowly faded.

When I woke again, I was no longer in the cell.

A guard had found me the next day.

My face was pale.

My lips had lost all color.

I was carried to the private clinic reserved for the prison's special cases.

The doctor avoided my eyes when he delivered the news.

"The child..."

He paused.

"I'm sorry."

The world went quiet.

My baby was gone.

The women who attacked me gave the same explanation.

A misunderstanding.

An accident.

No witnesses.

No evidence.

Nothing that could challenge their story.

In a place ruled by silence, the truth disappeared easily.

The guards gave them only a warning.

And everyone returned to pretending nothing had happened.

I said nothing.

I didn't cry.

I didn't scream.

But deep inside, I already knew the answer.

I knew who had ordered it.

I knew who wanted my child erased.

When Gia heard that I had been injured and lost the baby, she stared at the message for several seconds.

Then she laughed.

A bright, satisfied laugh.

"What happened?"

Salvatore wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Why are you so happy this early?"

Gia leaned back against him.

"Nothing."

Her eyes were filled with triumph.

"Let's go out tonight."

"I want to celebrate."

Salvatore agreed without hesitation.

Like always.

He followed wherever she led.

The two of them left the Ortega estate together.

But upstairs, in the forgotten attic, another person was waiting.

"Mommy..."

No.

Not Mommy.

"Papa..."

Matteo's weak voice echoed in the empty room.

But no one answered.

Salvatore didn't even look back when the car disappeared through the gates.

The child curled up alone on the cold floor.

He had been hungry for too long.

He was too tired to cry.

Eventually, even his voice disappeared.

The attic became silent.

Completely silent.

Since Gia entered the Ortega estate, Salvatore had forgotten everything except her.

Her wishes.

Her moods.

Her happiness.

He had not stepped into the family's front operation for days.

No one in that house remembered the child locked away upstairs.

When I woke again, I was different.

The prison guard who found me seemed disturbed by what had happened.

Perhaps guilt finally caught up with him.

He arranged another visitation.

When my parents arrived and saw me, my mother's expression changed instantly.

She looked at my pale face.

My weakened body.

Then her eyes fell lower.

The first thing she noticed was my empty stomach.

Her entire world collapsed.

"My child..."

Her voice broke.

"Who did this to you?"

Tears poured down her face.

"I swear, I'll destroy Salvatore myself."

"That coward hides behind Gia while letting you suffer alone."

My father stood beside her, his fists trembling.

Then he told me something.

He had searched everywhere for Adrian.

He wanted to beg him for mercy.

But Adrian had already been transferred.

A different clinic.

A different identity.

No one knew where he was.

But they didn't know something.

Before my parents arrived, I had already found a way to make one call.

A hidden phone.

A forgotten number.

And when the person on the other end answered, that familiar low voice immediately calmed the storm inside me.

He was awake.

He remembered.

That was enough.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

Then slowly turned my wedding ring around my finger.

Seven days.

Only seven days had passed since I entered this place.

Seven days since everyone thought I had lost everything.

I looked at my parents.

"Mom. Dad."

"Trust me."

My voice was quiet.

"Karma is already on its way."

They looked at me with confusion.

They thought grief had finally broken me.

After all, from the outside, Salvatore had never looked stronger.

The Ortega family had announced that their front operations would become completely legitimate in three days.

Everything was about to be washed clean.

Salvatore thought he had escaped.

Gia thought she had won.

But before I could explain...

The visitation room door suddenly opened.

Enzo rushed in.

His clothes were disordered.

His breathing was heavy.

For the first time, the calm lawyer looked shaken.

He removed his glasses.

Slowly cleaned them.

Then looked at me.

"Adriana..."

His voice lowered.

"Salvatore just called me."

The room fell silent.

"He said..."

Enzo swallowed.

"He's going to turn himself in."

My mother froze.

My father stared at him in disbelief.

"He wants to hand over the evidence."

"He wants to confess."

"He said he was the one driving that night."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then my mother collapsed to the floor.

But I smiled.

Not because Salvatore had finally admitted the truth.

That was only the first crack.

Enzo stared at me.

"Adriana..."

"What is happening?"

Everyone was waiting for my answer.

I slowly stood up.

The fear that had lived in me for seven days was gone.

"Confession?"

I smiled faintly.

"That is not enough."

"Do you really think one apology can erase everything?"

I looked toward the prison window.

"Karma does not arrive with a single punishment."

"It comes with everything someone has earned."

"Salvatore turning himself in..."

I paused.

"That is only the beginning."