**Chapter Three: The trunk**

**Celine's POV**

I could barely think after what happened in the bedroom. My throat was bruised and painful. Every swallow reminded me of Diego’s hand around my neck. He walked into the living room like nothing had changed.

“Tonight is our third wedding anniversary party,” he said coldly. “The family is expecting us. Your dress has arrived. Get ready. Smile for the guests. Don’t embarrass the Salvatore name.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “After what just happened? You still want a party?”

He didn’t even blink. “It’s business. Act like a wife for a few hours. That’s all I ask.”

I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I went upstairs and put on the long black dress that hid the marks on my neck.

The ballroom was full by the time I made my way through it, a glass of wine in my hand that I hadn't touched. Three years of marriage. Diego had wanted a party, something big enough for the papers to notice, and I'd gone along with it because saying no to him never seemed to lead anywhere good.

People kept stopping me to talk, business partners of Diego's, their wives, a few distant cousins on his side I only vaguely recognized.

I'd nodded, smiled, and let whoever I was talking to fill the silence the way people always did once they realized I wasn't going to answer out loud. Some of them were kind about it. Most just talked faster, like if they kept going long enough it wouldn't be awkward.

I kept glancing toward the entrance, half-expecting my parents to walk through it. They hadn't come. My brother said something about the drive being too long. I told myself that was all it was… distance, timing, bad luck.

But some part of me knew better. It was easier to believe it was the drive than to admit they were embarrassed to stand in a room and watch their daughter smile next to a husband she couldn't give an heir.

The lights dimmed partway through the evening, and a spotlight found the small stage at the front of the room. Diego stepped up to it, straightening his jacket, flashing the kind of smile he only used in front of cameras.

"Thank you all for coming," he said, and the room quieted down to listen. "Tonight means a lot to me and to my wife, we have a big announcement to make"

A big announcement?

He looked out at the crowd, then found me near the back.

"Celine, come up here."

Heads turned toward me. I felt my face go hot as I made my way forward, aware of every camera in the room swinging in my direction.

"Break a leg, darling." Biana whispered, as I passed her, She leaned in close enough that only I could hear, smiling the whole time like she'd just wished me luck.

I stepped up beside him, and he slipped an arm around my shoulders, still smiling for the room.

“It's been three years of marriage to my beautiful wife," he announced. Then the smile shifted, just slightly. "But some things don't last forever. Celine and I may be heading for divorce soon."

“What?”

The room went quiet for half a second before the murmuring started. Somewhere near the front, someone actually clapped, like it was good news. I found Bianca in the crowd, standing there smiling like she'd already won something.

"Yes we are Celine.”

Phones were already up, recording, flashing. A few reporters near the back started moving toward me instead of away, asking questions I couldn't hear and wouldn't have been able to answer even if I could.

I pulled away from his arm and pushed through the crowd, tears burning before I even reached the edge of the stage.

I needed to get outside. The air in that room was thick with perfume and lies and I couldn't breathe through either one.

I didn't stop moving until I reached the door, not even when the press followed, a few of them jogging to keep up, cameras raised, someone shouting my name like I owed them an answer.

One of the black cars was parked near the entrance, engine already running. The driver, an older man I recognized from dozens of trips before this one, stood beside it, cigarette in hand.

“I need a ride… I need fresh air. Just drive me around for a bit.”

He shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Salvatore. I have orders. I can’t leave my post without permission.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. While he turned to put out his cigarette, I reached forward and snatched the keys from his jacket pocket. He shouted something, but I was already moving. I got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove off before he could stop me.

I don't know how long I drove, long enough that the breeze started feeling very cold and just became the temperature of everything. Long enough that the memories started coming in fragments. Diego's voice at a charity event I had once organized three years back, saying ‘I want you to be part of my world Celine’

I wondered how long Diego had been planning all of this. I wondered if his mother knew. If the whole family had known and simply chosen to keep me in the dark.

Rain began to fall somewhere along the drive. I didn't notice until the windshield blurred beneath the downpour. I switched on the wipers and kept driving anyway. I didn't know where I was going, but driving felt better than staying behind with my shame.

The road was dark, trees blurred past. My hands gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles hurt. Tears ran down my face.

Divorce.

Public humiliation.

Every part of it had been planned long before I knew any of it.

Then I heard it. A dull thud from the trunk.

I froze. Another one followed — weak, desperate.

I eased my foot onto the brake. My pulse was hammering. The car rolled to a stop on an empty stretch of road, woods pressing in on both sides.

For a moment I just sat there.

Then I got out. My legs felt unsteady as I walked to the back of the car. My fingers hesitated over the latch before I finally opened it.

A man lay inside.

His wrists and ankles were bound so tight the rope had cut into his skin. Silver tape covered his mouth. His face was swollen past recognition, bruised everywhere, blood dried down the front of his shirt.

He looked more dead than alive.

I stumbled back.

A muffled sound came from him. My body moved before my mind caught up, I reached in and peeled the tape away as gently as I could.

He sucked in a ragged breath, coughing so hard his whole body shook.

"Please..." His voice was barely air.

His eyes went past me, to the road behind us. Terror in them.

"Run..."

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Who did this to you?”

He struggled to speak. Every word seemed to cost him. “I’m Marcus… They’re planning… the east wing… metal door. Weapons… drugs… bodies buried on the old property…”

He coughed again. Blood came out of his mouth.

“They’re watching you. The family… they don’t let anyone leave alive. Especially not with… a baby.”

My blood ran cold. How did he know?

His eyes met mine for a second. “Run… Celine. Before they… do to you… what they did to others…”

His breathing became shallower. Gurgling. His body started to shake. I watched in horror as his eyes rolled back. This was the first time I had ever seen a man dying right in front of me. Not in a movie. Not in a story. A real human being struggling for his last breaths because of my husband’s world.

“No… please stay with me,” I whispered, touching his shoulder. But it was too late.

He went still. His chest stopped moving.

I stood there in the dark, shaking. The woods around me felt alive with danger. My mind screamed at me to run. But where? If I left him here, they would know I had seen. If I called for help, Diego would find out.

With tears running down my face, I made a terrible choice.

I closed the trunk slowly. The sound echoed in the quiet night like a final goodbye. I got back behind the wheel, turned the car around, and drove back toward the estate like nothing had happened. Every mile felt longer. I kept seeing his dying eyes in my head. The way his body had gone limp. The blood. The secrets he spilled with his last breaths.

When I reached the mansion, I parked the car exactly where it had been. The driver was gone, probably looking for me or calling for backup. I left the keys in the ignition and walked back into the party like a ghost.

Diego was still laughing with guests. Bianca was by his side. No one seemed to notice how pale I was or how much I was trembling. The party continued around me, music, laughter. But inside, everything had gone silent and dark.

I was trapped in a family that killed people who asked too many questions.

And I had just opened a door that was never meant to be opened.