He Left Me to Burn, So I Let the Truth Survive

Enzo’s voice crashed through the line.

“You actually called? To see if Chiara burned? Sorry to disappoint you. I saved her. She’s alive and recovering.”

“Gia, do you even know whose warehouse you burned? That belonged to the Carmine family. The old man called this afternoon. What was I supposed to say?”

“I’m giving you one chance. Come down and face it in front of Chiara. I’ll tell the council you lost control. Otherwise, you handle it yourself.”

Before I could respond, Chiara’s soft, trembling voice reached me. “Enzo, don’t scold her. It’s my fault. If she wants to say me set the fire, let her. Don’t argue. She’s pregnant.”

Enzo sneered, not at her, but at the situation.

“You’re too soft. She burned a family warehouse, not her own home. Step aside.”

Then he turned back to me. “Did you hear that? She’s speaking for you. Now come down. I won’t call others to get you.”

I waited until he finished.

“No need. Prepare the dissolution papers. I’ll sign.”

He was stunned. He froze for two seconds.

“What did you say?”

“I said dissolve the relationship. Clear enough?”

I hung up before he could respond.

Soon after, someone arrived at the clinic to deliver a message from Enzo.

“Where are you? Have you lost your mind? I saw your stomach—your baby was safe, and you’re playing games?”

“Do you think I’m afraid because I’m pregnant? Think carefully. When you need to sign on the operating table, you’ll beg me.”

“Also, take back those photos. Carmine has already seen them. You can’t handle this alone.”

I didn’t listen. I sent the messenger away.

In my past life, I had already died for this man. Hearing his voice now made my hands tremble, but only for a few seconds.

Two nurses came in to change my dressings. They kept their heads down, doing their work, but their comments were meant to be heard.

“That Bellini girl is lucky. Saletta locked one of the private kitchens so he could cook for her himself every day.”

“When I went down to change her dressings, he wouldn’t even let me touch her arm. He did it himself. What do you call that?”

“Attention. The Bellini family and the Salettas are old friends. She grew up with him. How could someone barging in halfway compare?”

They never mentioned my name. I focused on the IV needle in my hand. Most of my skin had peeled away, aching and itching.

When they left, I finally drew a deep breath. My chest felt heavy and tight.

Later that evening, a family elder, one of the doctors, came in and spoke bluntly.

“The blow to your abdomen was severe. It’s unlikely you will carry another child.”

He said it lightly, as if remarking on the weather.

I nodded slowly, but my chest felt hollow and my vision blurred. In that instant, only one thought remained: the life I carried was gone.

After he left, I sat alone, sending someone out to check the situation outside.

The news spread quickly. The photo of me lying in blood reached the Carmine family. They were furious. The elders immediately called Enzo.

Enzo’s solution was to push me aside.

The council released a statement. They claimed the incident was entirely my doing. That I acted out of jealousy, burned a warehouse, and tarnished Enzo’s reputation as head of security.

To make the story believable, Enzo showed our marriage contract. It established that I was his woman, he had no part in starting the fire, yet the blame landed entirely on me.

All scorn and whispers turned toward me. In family taverns, at private tables, every warning, every caution was relayed to my ears. Each time I tried to speak, I was shut down.

In the following days, everyone in the clinic looked at me differently. No one openly pushed me out, but their intent was clear.

Every day, anonymous messages arrived. No preamble, no explanations, just the same sentence over and over. I did not reply. Not a single word.

On the day the doctor cleared me for discharge, I arranged for a message to be delivered to Enzo.

“Tomorrow. Council. Sign the papers.”

He called through another line.

“Finally showing your face? You still dare to appear?”

“I gave you a chance to apologize. You didn’t. Carmine is watching now. Do you think I can protect you?”

“Fine. Sign it. But remember, the child in your womb will grow up without a father. Your choice.”

He hung up before I could answer.

I opened the hidden backup feed from the warehouse.

Enzo had forgotten one thing.

Before I became his wife, I was the one who designed the Carmine family’s security archive.