His Unwanted Mute Wife: Now His Obsession

Sienna POV

I woke up sputtering, choking as a bucket of ice-cold water crashed against my face.

It wasn't fresh water. It tasted brackish. Salty.

I gasped, my chest heaving and lungs burning as I tried to inhale past the fluid.

I wasn't in the clinic anymore.

I was in the dark.

The air was damp and heavy, thick with the metallic tang of rust and the rot of mold.

I tried to lift my hands to wipe the stinging brine from my eyes.

There was a sharp, jarring clang.

Chains.

My wrists were shackled to the stone wall above my head, pulled so taut that my feet barely touched the ground.

"You're awake."

Dante stepped out of the shadows.

He was holding an empty metal bucket.

Despite the filth of the room, he looked impeccable. His suit was crisp, his hair slicked back without a single strand out of place.

As if he hadn't just drained his wife of blood to save his mistress.

"Why?" he asked.

One word.

He didn't shout. He sounded genuinely curious, like a scientist studying a specimen that had behaved unexpectedly.

I hung there, my body screaming in pain. The needle site on my arm throbbed in time with my racing heart.

Instinctively, I tried to move my fingers to speak, but the iron cuffs bit into my skin. I couldn't sign. My hands were bound.

I looked at him.

I let all the hate, all the sorrow, all the years of silence pour into my eyes like a weapon.

Because she is evil, I thought, screaming the words inside my skull. Because you are blind.

Dante stepped closer. He ran a finger down my wet cheek, his touch terrifyingly gentle.

"You broke Omertà, Sienna. You attacked the family. The penalty is death."

He paused, tilting his head slightly.

"But death is too easy for you. You like silence? You like the dark?"

He gestured to the dank space around us.

"This is the old wine cellar. The one you tried to lock Valeria in. Now, it's your home."

The heavy oak door creaked open behind him.

Valeria walked in.

She looked weak, leaning heavily on a cane, but her smile was vibrant, fed by a fresh source of life.

She was alive.

My blood was running through her veins now. It was my life force keeping her heart beating, fueling the very breath she used to mock me.

"Oh, Dante," she cooed, limping over to him and resting her head against his shoulder. "Is this wise? Her parents might ask questions."

Dante wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her fragility.

"Her parents believe she has been sent to a private sanatorium in Switzerland for her... mental condition. They are grateful I am paying for the best care."

Valeria laughed. It was a sharp, brittle sound that echoed off the stone walls.

She walked up to me, her gaze predatory.

She leaned in close, so close that only I could hear her whisper.

"You gave me your blood, little fish," she hissed. "Now I really am part of the family. And you? You're just a ghost."

She turned back to Dante, her face transforming into a mask of adoration.

"The wedding preparations are almost done, my love. We need to send the announcements."

Dante looked at me one last time.

There was no regret in his eyes. Only a cold, hard resolve.

"Let her rot," he said.

They walked out, leaving me to the shadows.

The heavy door slammed shut.

The lock engaged with a sound like a gunshot, sealing my fate.

I was alone in the dark.

Buried alive.