Page 5 of Bound in Ruin

"Anyway, look at you all," I breathe, stepping back to take them in, desperate for a distraction. "Camilla, that emerald green is absolutely stunning on you. "

"Ellie custom-ordered it for me," Camilla beams, smoothing down the satin fabric.

"And your hair, Ellie!" Daniela chimes in, reaching out to gently touch the intricate, pearl-woven updo. "You look like royalty."

"Don't start," Eleonora laughs, though a beautiful flush stains her cheeks. "It took three hours, and my scalp is practically screaming."

For a few beautiful, fleeting minutes, the heavy armor I've been wearing for four months falls away. We laugh, gossiping, completely forgetting the wolves waiting for the music to stop.

A sharp lull cuts through the room, and my eyes instinctively dart toward the grand mahogany doors. The moment they swing open and Dante DeLorenzo steps through, flanked by two of his brothers, the air leaves my lungs in a painful rush.

He wears his usual hostile scowl, his dark eyes cutting through the crowd as he steps arrogantly into the ballroom.

Beside me, Daniela lets out a sharp, horrified gasp. "I can't believe he's here. Why is he here?"

Elenora's jaw tightens, her hand flying to her waist as she glares across the floor. "I can't believe Dad invited him! After every disgusting thing he has accused Rosy of over the last four months."

I force my posture to remain perfectly straight, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. I look at my protective sisters and offer a tight, reassuring smile. "Father explicitly told me he wasn’t going to invite him. Maybe he just showed up on his own accord."

Sienna scoffs, rolling her eyes with a bitter, knowing look. "Rosy, please. Even you don't believe that lie. Father doesn't get blindsided at his own gate."

I feel pressure mounting from every side. The atmosphere turns suffocatingly tense. My sisters stay glued to my flanks, a fierce wall of silent solidarity, and I keep my head held high. I refuse to let the mask slip, and I absolutely refuse to appear weak in front of the DeLorenzos.

Dante doesn't cause a scene. He is smart enough not to launch a public accusation that would start an all-out turf war right here, on the Caruso estate. But the icy glares he shoots across the ballroom, his rigid posture, and the deliberate way he whispers to the others make it loud and clear.

To them, I am a black widow. They still believe I butchered Luciano, and they are just waiting for the right moment to strike back.

The walls feel like they are closing in, squeezing the remaining oxygen right out of my lungs. I’ve been suffocating in this ballroom for two straight hours, maintaining a flawless facade while the vultures circle. I need to breathe. I need fresh air before the mask shatters.

Turning to my sisters, I keep my voice steady. "I need to step out for a minute and catch my breath."

Instantly, all four of them move as one, offering to come with me, but I hold up a hand and offer a gentle, pleading smile. "No, please. I just need a moment alone."

They exchange worried glances, clearly not believing that I’m fine, but they love me enough to respect the boundaries I desperately need right now. They let me go.

I make a straight line for the side exit, my heels clicking softly against the marble. I am almost to the doors when I pass a small cluster of mafia wives sipping champagne. As I walk past, their voices drop to a venomous murmur, but the words cut through the ambient noise with absolute precision.

"Barren."

"...no DeLorenzo heir to show for it."

My stomach drops, a familiar, humiliating heat rushing up my neck. I don't need to guess who they are talking about.

It’s me.

Everyone in our world knows the humiliating truth. I am completely trapped by Luciano’s will. Because we never had a child—specifically not the male heir he desperately craved—the DeLorenzo clan has launched a full-scale legal and underworld challenge against my claims.

Luciano engineered his estate with ruthless foresight, adding hidden terms that would leave me with absolutely nothing unless I gave him a son. Because of those clauses, every single one of his accounts and properties is frozen tight, and the other women in the syndicate are using it as ammunition to laugh at my downfall behind closed doors.

But the worst part isn't their gossip; it's the bitter self-hatred that consumes me. Without Luciano’s inheritance, I have zero financial independence, I am stripped of the leverage I need to survive. Instead of being free, I have been forced right back under my father’s thumb, begging for his protection like a caged bird.

Unable to take another second of the suffocating air, I push through the heavy glass doors and finally step out of the ballroom, leaving the whispers behind.

The cold night air hits my face, but it isn’t enough. Groups of guests are clustered near the main terrace smoking and gossiping, so I don’t stop walking. I wrap my arms around my chest and keep moving down the stone path until I reach the deep, shadow-drenched corner at the very back of the estate.

Finally, I stop, letting out a long, shuddering breath.

But I am not alone.