The Wife He Used to Bury the Truth - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

"Don't be too upset, Don. I'll always be here for you."
A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts as slender arms wrapped around his neck from behind. Vincenzo stiffened. For a heartbeat, he thought it was Alessandra. His arms instinctively tightened around the woman's waist.
"You came back," he murmured, half-conscious, his fingers brushing weakly against her cheek. "Sandra...I'm sorry. I know I've been an asshole, but I swear I'll make it right. Just...please don't leave me. Don't file for divorce, okay?"
Bianca's eyes darkened with fury. Even now, after everything, Alessandra still owned his heart—the heart of a mafia don. She stayed silent, letting him hold her, feeling the tremors running through his body.
But when Vincenzo's eyes fluttered open and focused, he shoved her away violently.
"You're not Alessandra!"
Recognition flashed across his face, his expression hardening like tempered steel. "Why are you here, Bianca?" His voice could have frozen hell.
Bianca swallowed the acid rising in her throat, forcing her voice into a saccharine whisper. "Don, I was worried. You haven't been to the vineyard in weeks. I'm sure Sandra will come back to you."
At Alessandra's name, Vincenzo's gaze turned murderous. "You know what? Don't come here anymore. It'll just give Sandra the wrong idea."
"What?" Bianca's eyes widened like a spooked horse. "Vince, we grew up together! You can't just—"
"We're not kids playing in the olive groves anymore, B." His stare remained fixed on their wedding photo, icy and detached. "That ###Chapter ended years ago."
His jaw flexed. "I love Alessandra. I won't hurt her again."
Hearing the words she'd dreaded for years, Bianca's mask cracked. "No! That's impossible! You love me—you always have!" Her voice climbed hysterically. "This is just guilt talking! She doesn't love you—she probably prays for your death every night! You'll get over her!"
When she lunged at him again, Vincenzo finally saw the madness in her eyes. This wasn't the Bianca he knew—or had he never really known her?
If she loved him, why had she fucked Raffaele, that rival-family bastard? For years he'd protected her from the shadows, waiting like a faithful dog. And now...
His encrypted phone buzzed. Two surveillance videos—one from a private hospital, the other from the castle.
As the footage played, his blood turned to arctic ice. Slowly, he turned to Bianca. She'd gone ghost-white.
"Explain this."
Her mouth opened soundlessly. Vincenzo could barely breathe as the truth detonated in his chest. The woman who'd once taken a bullet for him...had done this?
Not just hurt Alessandra.
Murdered his child.
His stare could have flayed flesh from bone. "It's not what you think!" she choked out. "The footage is doctored! It's Alessandra—she's poisoning you against me!"
"Shut your mouth." His voice sliced through the air. Decades of Sicilian restraint were unraveling. "You'd blame Alessandra? She'd never sink this low."
Bianca's face twisted grotesquely. "You'd break our blood oath for her?" Her laugh was razor blades. "Oh God, you actually love that bitch?"
Vincenzo's hand twitched toward his holster.
"Too bad she knows everything," Bianca hissed, venom dripping from every word. "How you betrayed her father. Those 'vitamins' you fed her. This whole fucking charade." She leaned in, lips curling like a viper about to strike.
"You really think she'll ever forgive you?"