Chapter 3

Adriana "Ria" Rossi POV:

Salvatore called the day after the funeral.

I was sitting on the back porch of my mother's house, watching the gray afternoon sky. The service had been small and quiet. A few of my mother's friends, some distant relatives. No one from the Moretti Family had come. Their absence was a statement, a final, public dismissal.

My phone vibrated against the wooden step. 'Salvatore Moretti'.

I let it ring five times before I answered, just to feel the small, petty satisfaction of making him wait.

"Ria," he said, his voice thick with a carefully rehearsed sorrow. "I'm so sorry about your mother."

"Yes," I said. The word was flat, empty.

"My father just told me. He saw the notice. I can't believe you didn't call me."

"I was busy," I replied, my eyes fixed on a crack in the pavement.

"Baby, don't do this," he said, the old term of endearment sounding like an obscenity.

"Where are you, Salvatore?" I asked, cutting him off.

"I'm at the apartment. Our apartment. Where are you? I've been worried sick."

"I'm at my mother's house."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was afraid you'd done something... drastic."

"I tried to call you," he continued, his voice shifting into a placating tone. "After you told me about Elena. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Things were chaotic here."

"Yes," I said again. "You were skiing."

He sighed, the sound of a man steeling himself for an argument. "Sofia was devastated, Ria. Absolutely beside herself with guilt. She cried for hours."

I said nothing, just listened to the distant sound of a siren.

"She loved your mother," he insisted.

"Put her on the phone," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.

There was a muffled sound, whispers exchanged. Then Sofia's voice, saccharine sweet.

"Ria? Oh, sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. I feel just awful. I loved Elena like she was my own mother."

The audacity of the lie almost made me laugh.

"She was a wonderful woman," Sofia continued, her voice catching. "So kind. She shouldn't have startled Caesar like that, but I know she didn't mean any harm."

A cold, precise anger took root in my chest. "My mother didn't startle your dog, Sofia."

"Well, Sal helped me with the insurance claim, and..."

"That's nice," I said, my voice flat.

Sal came back on the line. "See? It was a tragic accident. These things happen."

"Do they?" I asked. "Tragic accidents with dogs that have a history of aggression and aren't vaccinated?"

Silence. A thick, damning silence.

"Who told you that?" he finally ground out, his voice low and threatening.

"The doctor," I said simply.

"You're hysterical," he spat. "You're grieving, and you're not thinking clearly. We'll sort this out when I see you. I'll have the dog put down, if that's what you want. We can fix this."

Fix this. Like my mother was a broken vase.

He was protecting her. He was choosing the Ricci Family alliance over me, over the truth. Over my mother's memory.

"I have to go," I said abruptly.

"Where are you going? I'm coming over."

I hung up.

I immediately went into my phone's settings and blocked his number. Then I blocked Sofia's. I watched their names disappear from my contact list, a small, satisfying act of erasure.

I sat on the porch as the sun went down, the sky turning a bruised purple. I had tried so hard to be the perfect Moretti woman. Polished, demure, supportive. A beautiful accessory to a powerful man. I had built my entire world around him.

And with one phone call, that world had been revealed for what it was: a gilded cage with a monster at the door.

And I had nothing left to hold onto. Nothing but a quiet house filled with ghosts and a future that was a terrifying, empty blank.