Chapter 3

I hurried to the kitchen, hoping to get breakfast on the table before Alessandro accuses me of delaying. The last thing I wanted was to give him another reason to be mad at me. But suddenly, i felt dizzy again, my vision blurred, I had to stop and grab the railing, breathing through the wave of nausea. The early stages of pregnancy were already taking its toll on me, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hide it.

After a few moment of trying to steady myself, I pushed forward, managing to reach the kitchen and start cooking. We had servants, but they treated me just as poorly as he did, cold and indifferent because my own husband didn’t respect me. But I was enduring it all for one reason—my baby. This tiny life growing inside me gave me hope, dreams and a reason to keep going. Even if Alessandro didn’t love me, I’d always loved him, and I couldn’t help but believe that this miracle baby was a chance for us. Maybe once he held our child in his arms, he’d see me differently, maybe even love me. Love us.

Lost in thought, I hadn’t heard him coming until I felt arms wrap around my waist, startling me. I gasped, dropping the hot pan, and yelped as the scalding oil splattered on my hand. But even as my skin stung, my only thought was to escape the touch that made my skin crawl. “What the hell are you doing, Enzo? I’m your sister-in-law!” I spat, pulling away in disgust. Enzo, Alessandro’s stepbrother, never missed a chance to corner me when I was alone.

“Don’t be so rude, Sister-in-law,” he drawled, stepping closer, eyes trailing over me in a way that made my stomach turn. “My brother doesn’t know how to appreciate a woman like you, but I do. Let me show you what it’s like to be truly desired,” he whispered, his gaze shamelessly lingering. 

“Get away from me, or I’ll scream,” I warned, my voice shaking but firm.

He only laughed. “And who’s going to believe you?” Enzo lunged, trapping me against the kitchen island, his foul breath close as he tried to kiss me. I shoved at him, kicking and thrashing, but his grip tightened as he yanked my hair back, forcing my face toward his. 

“Just stop!” I managed to cry out, my panic rising.

“What the hell is going on here?” Alessandro’s voice, deep and furious, cut through the room. Enzo froze, his face twisting in fear, and I stumbled back, instinctively hiding behind Alessandro, seeking protection in his towering presence.

“S-She... She was trying to seduce me,” Enzo stammered, faking a wounded look as he glanced at his brother. I could barely believe the words he’d just spoken. Such a bloody lying asshole, both mother and son.

“He’s lying!” I burst out, my voice trembling with anger. But Enzo only turned on me with an air of righteous anger, his tone fierce. “Why would I lie about my own brother’s wife?” he hissed.

I wanted to scream, to make Alessandro see the truth. But before I could defend myself, Alessandro’s hand closed tightly around my wrist, his grip unforgiving. He dragged me upstairs to our bedroom, slamming the door behind us. 

"Wasn’t last night enough that you had to throw yourself at my brother?” he sneered, his face twisted in anger. “Such a whore. Always looking for more men to satisfy your filthy needs."

His words pierced through me like torns on a beautiful rose. Why does loving him have to be so hard ? I had only ever loved him, been faithful to him in every way. “Alessandro, please, you don’t understand—” I tried to explain, but his low growl cut me off. “Shut up, you lying slut. You don’t get to answer back.”

His hands were rough as he pushed me onto the bed. My stomach stired with fear and heartbreak as he took what he wanted, ignoring my tears, my silent cries for mercy. All I could do was close my eyes and pray, wishing for some kind of end to this nightmare. 

---

Outside, Maria watched the chaos with satisfaction from the corridor, her smile widening as Alessandro’s angry voice echoed through the house. She knew he’d punish me, all over something I hadn’t even done. Descending the stairs, her smile faded only slightly as she noticed Enzo standing in the kitchen, seemingly unfazed.

“What were you thinking, Enzo?” she scolded him, her voice low and sharp. “If you want that woman, then seduce her when no one’s around. Stay out of trouble with Alessandro; you know he won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Relax, Madre,” Enzo replied with a smug grin. “I’m smarter than that.”

Mother and son exchanged a look of shared ambition. Enzo, Maria’s child from her affair with Antonio, could only inherit everything if Alessandro remained childless. And with misunderstandings piling up between me and Alessandro, Maria felt confident that either I’d never give him an heir—or he’d kill me before that ever happened. 

Maria’s knock was soft, and I opened the door, my eyes fixed on the floor, my shoulders weighed down. She gave me a sympathetic look and whispered, “I’m sorry, dear. I was helpless.”

The words barely reached me. My heart hurt, but I knew that no one—not even Maria—could have saved me from Alessandro’s anger. I said nothing, just pressed my lips together and turned back to my chores. My hands moved on autopilot as I stripped the bed, my fingers trembling slightly as I replaced the sheets, fluffing pillows, smoothing every wrinkle. It had to be perfect. He demanded it. The constant hum of the shower from the bathroom reminded me that he was still here.

“Is he in the shower?” Maria’s voice was low. I nodded, still focused on my work, determined not to let her see how badly his treatment bruised me. Before she could say anything more, the bathroom door swung open, and Alessandro stepped out, wrapped in a white robe, steam swirling around him. His eyes skimmed over Maria before settling on me. Cold, as usual. I kept my gaze on my work, refusing to meet his stare, ignoring his looming presence as he walked to the closet.

Maria stayed put, watching us, a look of twisted satisfaction on her face. Seeing the tension between us gladdened her immensely. But as I swept my hair out of my face, I felt her gaze harden. She’d seen the marks—love bites trailing up my neck and near my cheek, reminders of Alessandro’s cruel brand of “affection.” Her expression soured with barely hidden fury.

Despite her efforts to turn him against me, he’d still chosen to be with me. She’d tried sending models, actresses, even high-society women his way, hoping one would catch his eye. But he brushed them off, letting the paparazzi snap meaningless photos before he returned home to me each night. She might’ve thought he got off on making me cry, but she didn’t know the whole truth. Alessandro has never touched me in anger. His words, though slashed deeper than any hand could.

As I fluffed the pillows, a wave of nausea hit me, sudden and overwhelming. My stomach twisted, and I clutched a hand to my mouth, rushing for the bathroom. I barely made it before I was bent over, my body heaving as I emptied my stomach. Maria had followed me, watching from the doorway with a look that was almost suspicious. When I finally straightened and rinsed my mouth, her voice cut through the quiet.

“Oh my God, Aria! Are you pregnant?” she gasped, her voice laced with fake excitement, that terrible smile plastered on her face. I froze. Alessandro emerged from the closet, his shirt half-buttoned, his tie hanging loose, his face a mixture of shock and something unreadable.

“Oh, Alessandro!” Maria continued, practically glowing with forced joy as she reached for his hand. “I am so happy! Finally, after three years of marriage, I’m going to be a grandmother.”

“Wait. What did you just say?” Alessandro’s voice turned deadly, his tone sharp enough to slice through the air. Maria took a cautious step back, fear flickering in her eyes. Alessandro’s gaze shifted to me, his brow furrowed, eyes glinting with a fury that sent a chill through my veins. “Aria is pregnant?”

I felt myself shrink as he strode over to me, looming, his presence pressing down like a heavy weight. “Is it possible for you to carry my child, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, but it held an edge sharper than any insult. That fake concern was more terrifying than his anger.

My heart hammered, my instincts screaming at me to protect myself from the strom brewing behind his gaze. My head shook instinctively, a silent plea for mercy in the face of whatever storm he was ready to unleash.