Page 112 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

"No one knew you were the real curse on the Rossi family."

I stared at her.

Rage burned in my chest until even the ropes felt tighter.

A curse.

Any crack in our lives, she had shoved me toward it and called it my fault.

I yanked my wrists as hard as I could.

The rope scraped skin raw. Pain shot straight into bone.

Isabella saw it and lit up with mean satisfaction.

"Hurt?"

She pinched my chin.

"This is only the beginning."

As she spoke, her other hand drifted to her flat stomach.

That movement froze me.

Isabella caught my look. Her smile vanished.

"My baby is gone."

The warehouse seemed to drop ten degrees.

My eyes widened.

She had been pregnant.

It hadn't been Kiryan's—the timing didn't match, the records didn't match. But it had still been real. Whoever the father had been, losing it hadn't been something you could erase with a lie.

I wanted to ask what had happened.

All that came out was a muffled, broken sound.

"Now you are scared?" Isabella's voice shook. "The doctor said I won't ever have another."

Her palm pressed harder, like she could claw something back out of her own body.

"I miscarried. I can't have kids anymore. Happy now?"

I shook my head hard.

No.

I had never wanted her to lose a baby. I hadn't even known when it happened. But she didn't need answers. She needed someone to hold her hate, and I had always been the easiest target.

"Stop pretending!"

She shoved my face away.

The chair rocked back. I clenched my core instantly, my toes digging into the floor.