Four Parting Gifts, Don Falcone

"She did this to you," Vittorio said, his voice dangerously low. "As her husband, it's my debt to pay."

His words hit me like lightning.

He was really going to "help" Carina?

I couldn't believe it. The man I loved, the man I called my husband, was saying something so degrading, so humiliating.

My voice trembled. "So you think I drugged her... just to watch you fuck her?"

"Enough!" Vittorio roared. "Don't use that filthy language!"

On the bed, Carina reached out a trembling hand and touched Vittorio's chest. His body tensed at her touch.

"Vittorio... please don't... I can't let you betray your family," Carina's voice was weak but seductive. "You should go... I can get through this alone..."

Her fingers trailed down his chest. Vittorio's breathing grew ragged.

"No. I'm not leaving you," Vittorio said, grabbing her hand, his eyes full of pity. "This is her fault. She should face the consequences."

Carina pretended to push him away, but her body instinctively moved closer.

"Aurelia... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to take Vittorio from you... but I feel so awful..."

While she apologized, she guided Vittorio's hand to her own hot skin.

Something in my head snapped. I couldn't believe they were doing this, in my home, shaming me so openly.

"Enough, Carina Romano!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Stop the act! You destroy my home, you seduce my husband, and now you stage this whole show to get him into your bed! How disgusting can you be?"

The second the words left my mouth, Vittorio exploded.

Crack.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room. My left cheek burned, and I could taste blood.

"How dare you say that about Carina!" Vittorio grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "She's kind. She never says a bad word about you! But you, you've been nothing but hostile!"

"So all that understanding you showed today was an act!" His eyes were full of disappointment and disgust.

Carina sobbed on the bed. "Vittorio, don't blame Aurelia... It's my fault... I shouldn't have come back..."

Vittorio turned and gently stroked her face. "No. You're not the one who's wrong."

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand drawer and looked at me, his eyes cold.

"You love these little drug games so much," he hissed. "Fine. You can listen to me help Carina with her 'problem.'"

He dragged me downstairs and cuffed my wrist to the iron gate of the wine cellar. Cold metal bit into my skin. The pain was a brutal, clarifying shock.

"Vittorio, you can't do this to me!" I struggled, but the cuffs only tightened.

"Listen," he said, his voice trembling with a rage he couldn't control. "You brought this on yourself, Aurelia. Now you get to hear the consequences of your 'masterpiece.'"

He turned and went back upstairs without a second glance. The door slammed shut.

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face.

Soon, I heard Carina's muffled moans from upstairs. I tried to block it out, but I couldn't even cover my ears.

"Vittorio... please, be gentle..."

"I know. Just hold on."

Then came the rhythmic creak of the headboard, and her moans growing louder, bolder.

"Ah... Vittorio... right there... harder..."

Every sound was a knife in my heart.

I curled up on the cold floor, the world spinning. The old gunshot wound began to ache, and a vicious cramp seized my abdomen. But my heart hurt the most, like it was being ripped to shreds.

The sounds from upstairs went on all night. Vittorio's heavy breathing, Carina's breathless cries, their shouts as they came.

I shivered on the floor, my clothes soaked with cold sweat.

A vicious cramp seized my abdomen. Then I felt it. A slow, warm trickle of blood down my thigh. A weak sob escaped my lips, but it was drowned out by the noise from above.

By dawn, everything was quiet.

I had no more tears left. I was just curled up in a pool of my own blood, like a dying animal.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Vittorio opened the cellar door. He started to say something mocking, but his face froze when he saw me.

"Aurelia?!" His voice was filled with a panic I'd never heard before. He rushed over, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the cuffs. "Jesus Christ, you're bleeding so much..."

I lifted my head and used all my strength to look at him.

"Let go of me..."

I collapsed. The fever made everything blurry. He scooped me up, his hands touching my cold, wet clothes. He roared, "I'm taking you to the hospital!"

Just then, Carina's voice drifted down from the bedroom, thick with lazy satisfaction. "Vittorio... you were too rough. I don't think I can walk..."

"Besides," she added, her voice full of fake concern, "if you take Aurelia to the family hospital, everyone will know about us. It'll be bad for the family's reputation."

Vittorio's arms tightened around me, then went still. I could feel him fighting with himself. He looked at my pale face, his eyes filled with pain and guilt.

But in the end, he turned to the guard at the door, his voice a low growl. "Get a street doc. The back-alley clinic. Now."

In the end, he chose to hide his affair with Carina over saving my life.

The bleeding seemed to stop. I couldn't hold on any longer. I sank into darkness.

A few hours later, I woke up in a small, dingy clinic. It wasn't one of ours.

The doctor was a middle-aged woman with a grim face.

"You were pregnant," she said, her face grim. "About three months along. Between the blood loss and the trauma... you lost it."

Tears rolled silently down my cheeks. Did it hurt? I felt numb.

"We need to do a D&C as soon as possible, or it could affect your ability to have children in the future."

I closed my eyes. "Do it."

Better to get it over with. Since I couldn't keep the child, it was time to end everything.

As the cold surgical instrument entered my body, the last of my love for Vittorio seemed to drain away.

All I wanted now was to escape this hell.

After the surgery, I lay in the hospital bed, took out my encrypted phone, and sent a new message to Orion with a trembling hand.

[A month is too long. I need you in three days. Get me out.]