Chapter 4

Nico saw I wasn't speaking. He probably assumed I'd fallen in line, just like always.

He spoke again. "I'm going to carry Olivia to the bedroom. Then you can go to the study and get your file."

"Keep your footsteps quiet."

I didn't say a word. I just watched Nico lift Olivia from the sofa. He held her like she was made of glass. He carried her into the master bedroom.

I got the file, went back to the office, and processed the project.

Then the first thing I did was print out my resignation letter.

Once I finished handing off the last of this mess, I was leaving. Leaving Nico. Leaving New York.

I was going to travel the world. And then find a quiet place—mountains, water—and live out my days in peace.

***

I finished up around dawn. My eyes were red and itchy from being up all night. I was just about to head back to the hotel when my phone started screaming.

I answered. The voice on the other end was Nico's—a man who was always so composed—sounding frantic and barely coherent.

"Valentina! Olivia was going through the study and found our marriage certificate in the filing cabinet! She's threatening to swallow a gun! Get back here! Now!"

The second Nico's call ended, my mother's calls started hammering in. One after another.

"Valentina! Why didn't you take that certificate with you when you moved out?!"

"You're just jealous of her! You always have been! You finally saw your chance to destroy her, didn't you!"

"You get your ass back here and fix this! You did this to her!"

"If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive you. For the rest of my life. You can just consider me dead!"

My own sister steals my husband. And my mother attacks me like I'm the enemy.

I stared at the black screen of my phone. I wasn't even surprised anymore.

At my sixteenth birthday party, because I didn't wear the same dress as Olivia, my mother had looked at me in front of all the relatives and said, with a voice dripping in contempt, "Look at you, Valentina. You never learned how to dress yourself. Even if you wore the same thing as Olivia, you'd still look like a shabby little tagalong."

If I didn't go see Olivia, I knew I wouldn't get a single day of peace before I left New York.

By the time I got to the house, Olivia was already sitting on the edge of the terrace.

A crowd had gathered below. The police chief. Paramedics. A rescue pad was spread out beneath the terrace.

The moment I appeared, Olivia spotted me. From three stories up.

She pointed at me. Her voice was a shrieking, tear-soaked scream.

"Valentina! You're my own flesh and blood! Nico is my fiancé! How could the two of you go behind my back and register at city hall!"

"The two people I love most—conspiring to betray me! You want me dead!"

Nico's face was white. He was frantic. "Olivia! It's not what you think between Valentina and me!"

"No, Olivia! It was always you!"

Nico's words were still hanging in the air when Olivia threw herself off the terrace.

She hit the rescue pad.

I hadn't even processed what Nico just said—"It was always you"—before he slammed into me. Hard.

I hit the ground. A sharp, wrenching pain tore through my lower abdomen. I tried to push myself up.

A slap cracked across my face.

I looked up. My mother stood over me, eyes wild, finger jabbing at my nose. Her voice was a blade.

"Why didn't you try to talk her down! If you'd just apologized to her, she wouldn't have been pushed to jump!"

"I have no daughter like you! From now on, don't you ever call me Mom again!"

She threw those words at me and sprinted toward the ambulance. Nico was already inside, holding Olivia.

I lay crumpled on the ground. The pain in my abdomen was searing. Twisting.

I looked down. Blood.

The neighbors I'd known for years stood around me. No one helped. They just stared. Disdain in their eyes. Whispering.

"This sister and the brother-in-law lived here for years. She kept the house immaculate. We all thought she was the devoted wife. Turns out she was just the mistress."

"Stealing her own sister's fiancé. Shameless."

With trembling hands, I dialed 911. Then the world went dark.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

A nurse stood beside me. Her voice was soft, full of pity. "You were a little over a month pregnant. You miscarried. You need to rest now."

"The anesthesia hasn't fully worn off. You'll need to stay for observation for another hour before you can leave."

My mind went blank. For several seconds. Then the tears welled up. Silent. Unstoppable.

My abdomen still throbbed. I reached down with a shaking hand, laying it flat against my belly.

That poor child. Gone. Before I even knew he was there.

Just before the tears spilled over, I tilted my head back and forced them down.

The only thing I felt grateful for was this: that child wouldn't have to have a father who would shove his mother out of the way at the worst possible moment.

I pressed my palm against my empty stomach. My whisper was hoarse. "Baby. Once Mama gets out of the hospital, I'll go to church and light a candle for you."

"In the next life, find a family where the mommy and daddy actually love each other."

***

After my observation period ended, I got my medication and left.

In the second-floor hallway, I ran straight into Nico. He was holding a lab report.

He saw me. He paused for a second. Then his brows pulled together, and he pulled me into the stairwell.

"Your sister can't see you right now. She's been traumatized. Don't go see her."

"Your mother and I will take care of her."

Of course they would.

And there it was again. Confirmation. Crystal clear. Nico didn't give a damn about me. Not a single shred.

If he did, he would've noticed how my face was as white as a sheet.

I said nothing. I turned to walk down the stairs and leave.

I'd barely shifted when Nico's hand clamped around my wrist.

His jaw was tight. A rare flicker of hesitation crossed his face.

"There's something else. I need to tell you."

I looked back at him. Nico stood there for a full three seconds before he finally spoke. Like he was steeling himself.

"We need to get divorced."