A Promise Drowned in Silence

I walked out to the rose garden behind the manor—slow, quiet. Orlando and I had planted every one of those flowers ourselves.

Even the swing? We built that too.

I just wanted to see the unopened buds one last time.

But then I saw her—and my blood went ice cold.

Bianca. Wrapped in a blanket like some tragic queen, lounging on a bench while barking orders at the gardeners.

Half the roses were already gone. Uprooted, crushed, scattered like trash.

Our garden—destroyed on her say-so.

"What are you doing?!" I shouted, running over—only to get stonewalled by one of the bodyguards.

She didn't even flinch. "Redesigning the garden, obviously. These tacky roses? Not my vibe. Caterina and Orlando said I could treat the place like it's mine. I'm just swapping out YOUR flowers."

Then came the dagger:

"What right does a bitter woman like you have to complain?"

I'd planned to leave quietly. But I guess I couldn't even take one memory with me.

I knelt down, picked up one of the crushed roses. Behind me, Bianca's voice dripped smug.

"Orlando hasn't loved you in ages. He stayed out of DUTY. You can't even give him a kid, yet you're still clinging to that 'wife' title? Please. Stop playing the victim."

She strutted closer, yanked her collar down, flashing a hickey. "See this? He only wants ME. Why else do you think he ghosts you every night?"

Then she pointed at the swing, eyes gleaming. "That swing you're so sentimental about? Yeah, we broke it in—with plenty of variety. You were just too busy being irrelevant to notice."

I didn't say a word. Not one.

Then came my voice—calm, sharp.

"Escort her back to the manor. Restore everything here exactly the way it was."

Some guards hesitated. One finally moved, stepped up, and gestured at Bianca—real polite.

She shrieked. "Why are you listening to this old woman? I'M the future Donna of the Leone Family!"

"Ms. Quinn, she's the Don's wife. He told us to respect her."

Bianca froze—then started backing up, heel by heel, toward the edge of the lake.

Dusk had rolled in. Mist crawled across the water.

"Careful!" I called, instinct taking over.

Then I caught it—that flicker of malice in her eyes.

She yanked me down, and we hit the water hard.

The cold punched the air out of me. I swallowed a few mouthfuls, coughing, burning—pain lit up every nerve.

My chest tightened. My heart slammed.

The world tilted and blurred.

'So this is it. This is how I die.'

Through the haze, I heard someone yelling my name—a voice I knew by heart.

A figure dove into the water.

I pushed out the last of my strength. "Orlando... save me."

But he didn't hear me. Or maybe he just didn't care.

He swam straight to Bianca.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I slipped under. Maybe this wasn't the worst way to go—right here, in front of the rose garden, where it all started.

When I came to on the shore, the man I'd loved for eighteen years was holding her—cradling Bianca like she was the one slipping away.

She rested her head on his chest, playing the part. A smug smile flashed before she swapped it out for something softer.

"Orlando, Arianna grabbed my hand and dragged me under. I was so scared..."

Orlando turned to me, eyes cold. No walls left.

"Arianna, she's pregnant. You can't keep acting like this."

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a wet cough—lungs full of ice, pain ripping through me till everything blurred.

I wanted to scream 'she pulled me in', but before I could even breathe, Caterina's voice cut sharp through the air.

"Orlando, a vipera like her is nothing but trouble! Send her back to her father's estate. She's not to return without my permission! Don't let her curse Bianca or the baby."

Through the fog in my vision, I swore I saw him pause.

But he said nothing.

Two guards grabbed my arms.

As they dragged me away, I looked back—one last time—at what used to be home.

Ten years ago, Orlando knelt in that garden and swore he'd make me the happiest woman alive.

Five years ago, I stood right there, smiling through tears as he accepted the family heir's crest.

Now? The car rolled to a stop. The Underboss opened the door.

My father's abandoned estate loomed ahead—silent, rotting, forgotten.

"Signora Leone, we've arrived. Please take this time to reflect on your mistakes. The Don said he'll bring you home once Ms. Quinn's child is born."

A bitter smile pulled at my lips. Metallic tang hit my tongue. I coughed—red blooming in my palm.

I glanced around the dead courtyard.

So this is it...

Didn't even get to say goodbye.