Chapter 6

I didn’t die.

My father’s old, loyal bodyguard broke through the fire and carried me out.

As I lay on the lawn, gasping for air, I saw Gavin sprinting towards me like a madman.

"Viola!"

Seeing my soot-covered face and singed clothes, the color drained from his face.

"How did a fire start? Who did this?! Find them! Find them now!" he roared, then fell to his knees beside me like a helpless child, wanting to hold me but afraid to touch the burnt edges of my dress.

"I'm sorry… Viola, I didn't know… I didn't hear the phone…" his voice trembled.

I closed my eyes, exhausted. Even looking at him felt filthy.

Just then, Sofia came stumbling over, innocent tears on her face. "Oh my god, is Viola okay? It's all my fault. I was having terrible morning sickness, and Gavin was busy taking care of me, his phone was on silent… sob… I almost got you killed…"

Gavin immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into his arms. "It's not your fault, Sofia. Don't cry, you'll stress the baby."

I pushed myself up from the grass, shakily getting to my feet.

Seeing me stand, Gavin pulled a gun from his waistband and forced it into my hand.

"Viola, it was my fault. I shouldn't have locked you up. If you're angry, shoot me." He grabbed my hand, pressing the muzzle against his own chest. "Just like before. Anything to make you feel better."

He was using that trick again.

Before, I would have cried, thrown the gun down, and hugged him.

But now, I just looked at the gun in my hand, feeling its absurd weight.

I let go.

Thud.

The gun fell to the grass.

"Get out," I said, my voice quiet but filled with all the strength I had left. "Take your woman and get out of my sight."

Gavin froze. He had never seen me look at him with such coldness, like he was a complete stranger.

"Viola…"

I turned and walked away, ignoring his calls.

I spent a week recovering.

Gavin called countless times, but I refused to see him.

But as the Godfather’s wife, I had to attend the Whitestone family dinner.

When I arrived, Sofia was already there, sitting next to Gavin’s mother, Nonna.

Nonna was lovingly stroking Sofia’s stomach, looking pleased.

The moment she saw me, her smile vanished.

"As the wife of the Godfather, you arrive late. What kind of example is that?" she said, not hiding her disdain. "Sofia is the sensible one, knowing what's important—giving the Whitestone family an heir."

Gavin stood beside me, cutting her off. "Mother, Viola hasn't been well. I told her she could come late."

I didn't appreciate his defense.

I let out a cold laugh.

"It was Gavin who begged me to marry into this family," I said, looking Nonna straight in the eye. "And it was your son who swore to me that even without a child, I would be his only wife. He said he didn't want a child to take away his love for me."

I turned to Gavin. "Isn't that right, Gavin?"

Gavin looked down, unable to meet my eyes or his mother's.

"That was before he was bewitched by a little fox like you!" Nonna swung her cane, about to hit me. "Since you won't have a child, then get out! Let Sofia be the matriarch!"

The scene devolved into chaos.

Just then, Sofia, who had somehow ended up beside me, let out a gasp.

She was standing on the edge of a short flight of stairs. In front of everyone, she threw herself backward dramatically.

I was the closest person to her, but I hadn't touched her.

"Ah! Viola, don't—"

Sofia screamed as she tumbled down the three steps, clutching her stomach as she hit the floor. "My stomach… it hurts…"

"Sofia!" Gavin rushed to her side.

Nonna, trembling with rage, stormed up to me and slapped me hard across the face.

SMACK!

The sound echoed through the hall. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood.

"You venomous bitch! How dare you harm my grandchild!"

A dead silence fell over the room. All the bodyguards, all the servants, were staring at me. Gavin, holding Sofia, looked up at me with utter disappointment. "Viola, you've disappointed me more than I can say."

Disappointed?

I wiped the blood from my lip. My cheek was on fire, but my heart felt clearer than ever.

I walked step by step towards Sofia, who was still playing the victim in Gavin’s arms.

She looked up as I approached, a flash of triumph in her eyes.

"Since you're all so sure I pushed her."

I suddenly bent down, grabbed a fistful of Sofia's hair, and as she shrieked in terror, I yanked her out of Gavin’s arms and shoved her hard into a nearby stone pillar.

THUD!

This time, the impact was real. Blood bloomed on her forehead.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Gavin roared, trying to get up.

I had already stepped back, looking coldly at his entire family.

"This time, I did it."

I reached up and tore the heirloom necklace, the symbol of the Whitestone matriarch, from my neck.

I held it up high.

And then I smashed it onto the marble floor.

CRASH!

The priceless gems shattered into a thousand pieces, just like my ten years with Gavin. Broken beyond repair.

All the noise stopped.

Gavin stared blankly at the glittering dust on the floor.

I turned my back on the wreckage, my spine straight.

I didn't look back. I just left them with my final words.

"Gavin, I want a divorce."