Chapter 27 The Cut

Chapter 27 The Cut


Vicenzo was standing outside the bathroom when he heard it. Giulia’s voice, firm, filled with venom and possession:

“And as for Vicenzo… now he is mine.”

The sentence hit him like a punch. Blood rushed straight to his groin. The erection came immediately, violent, as if his body had reacted before his mind. He leaned his back against the wall, trying to control his breathing. The heat between his legs was unbearable. The way she had said that… as if he were something that belonged to her. As if she had won.

And the worst part was that, for a second, he wanted it to be true.

The door opened. Giulia stepped out. Her face was still warm from the argument, her eyes hard, but when she saw him there, she stopped. She understood. He had heard everything. His look said so.

She froze. He didn’t say anything. He only stared at her.

Her dress was wrinkled, the veil crooked, her face marked. But even so, she seemed unreachable. Untouchable. And he wanted to touch her, right there in the corridor, against the wall.

Vicenzo took a step forward. The erection was still pulsing, desire burning inside him. Giulia didn’t step back. Her eyes dropped and noticed it. She saw it. And she didn’t look away.

The air between them grew heavy. One more second and he would have taken her. It didn’t matter where they were. It didn’t matter who might see. He would take her. Because she was his. Because she had said it. And he believed it.

But then the bathroom door burst open.

Valentina came out running, her face red, her eyes wide. She stopped when she saw the two of them.

“How long have you been standing there?!” she shouted, her voice choked.

She saw it. She saw what had almost happened. And she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms like a desperate actress.

“Vicenzo, she hit me! Look at the marks on my face!” she said, pulling his face closer to show the redness on her cheeks.

Giulia closed her eyes. The spell broke. Desire turned into disgust. The tension turned into farce. She opened her mouth, ready to spit out the truth.

“She deserved it—”

“Leave,” Vicenzo cut in, his voice hoarse, cold, leaving no room for discussion.

Giulia felt the blow. Her body stiffened. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Inside, a bitter laugh rose.

Idiot. Did you really think he would take your side?

She turned her back. Her steps were firm, her head held high. But inside, everything was collapsing.

To him, I am nothing. I never was. Just revenge. A body. A piece in his game.

And she kept walking without looking back.

As soon as Giulia’s footsteps disappeared down the corridor, Vicenzo shoved Valentina violently. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, the dress spreading around her body like a pool of silk. The impact was sharp, and the silence that followed was even more brutal.

Valentina looked at him, frightened. Never before had Vicenzo been violent with her. Never like that. His eyes were dark, filled with anger. There was no space left for pretending.

“What game is this that you are playing?” his voice cut like a blade. “Since when do you despise Luca like that?”

She froze. Sitting on the floor with her elbows braced behind her, she understood. He had heard everything. Everything she had said in the bathroom. The venomous words. The contempt. The pleasure in talking about her dead brother as if he were trash.

Panic took over.

“I was angry!” she said, trying to stand, her voice shaking. “First she takes my brother from me… and now you. I just said that in anger, Vicenzo. I didn’t mean it…”

He didn’t move. He only narrowed his eyes. His look was a warning she had never seen before. What he had heard in her voice had not been anger. It had been contempt. Cold. Calculated. Real.

“If you speak about Luca like that one more time…” his voice dropped into a dark, threatening tone, “listen carefully, Valentina: I will rip your tongue out.”

She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t answer. Her whole body was trembling.

“And I will say this only once more,” he continued, each word precise, “stay out of my affairs.”

He turned to leave, but stopped halfway through the step. He looked back over his shoulder, without softness.

“That includes Giulia Salvatore.”

Valentina took a step forward, desperate.

“Vicenzo… wait…”

But he was already leaving. His steps were firm, and he didn’t look back.

The silence he left behind felt like a slap. Valentina stood still for a moment, her chest rising and falling quickly. Then something inside her broke.

Valentina screamed, a sharp, hysterical scream that tore through the corridor like a siren. Her eyes wide, her mouth open in an animal cry. She turned toward the wall and punched it hard, once, twice, three times, until her knuckles began to bleed.

“He was mine!” she screamed, spitting as she spoke, her face twisted with hatred. “He was mine, damn it! She will not take him from me! She will not! SHE WILL NOT!”

She rushed to a side table and flipped it over with both hands, the objects crashing to the floor. She grabbed a silver tray and threw it against the wall. The impact made the metal bounce and slam onto the floor. A glass vase came next, shards flying everywhere and cutting her arm, but she didn’t even feel it.

She kicked the wall with her heel. Again. Again. Until the heel snapped.

She fell to her knees but did not stop. She crawled to the hanging mirror and struck it with the palm of her hand. The glass cracked. She hit it again. And again. Until the mirror gave way and the shards fell to the floor.

“I’m going to kill that bitch!” she screamed, her eyes bloodshot, her breathing ragged. “I swear to God I will destroy her!”

She crawled toward the broken glass and picked up a shard. She squeezed it so hard that it cut her own hand. Blood ran down her fingers, dripping onto the floor. She looked at her hand, then at her broken reflection in the mirror.

“Look what you did to me, Vicenzo…” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Look what you turned me into…”

She staggered to her feet, barefoot, the dress torn along the side, her hair disheveled. She slammed her fists against the wall, then against her own head, as if trying to tear the thoughts out by force.

“He was mine! MINE!”

She collapsed again on the floor, her knees hitting hard. She cried without tears, screamed without voice. The corridor was empty, but it felt as if the whole world were watching her. And she wanted to destroy everything.

Because Vicenzo had walked away.

And she knew.

He would not come back.