Double Betrayal, Broken Donna Chapter 03
Rocco went rigid. His first instinct — before the camera, before me — was to pull Teresa’s face into his chest.
Then he lunged and slapped the phone out of my hand. It hit the floor hard.
“What the hell are you doing, Camelia?” His voice boomed with a Don’s fury, shaking the walls.
I didn’t move.
I was staring at his wrist. Right there, over the veins, new ink — a line of letters I couldn’t read.
The room tilted. And just like that, he was there again — Lucius, grinning behind my eyes.
The same tattoo. Exactly the same.
That same wrist had pinned me by the throat. Those same hands had been everywhere — all over me, over and over.
My jaw locked. When my voice finally came, it was shaking.
“Rocco — what is that?”
Rocco glanced down at his wrist. One corner of his mouth lifted.
“Teresa mentioned you had a weakness for men with tattoos on their wrists.”
My head snapped up. Teresa was watching me, eyes bright with challenge.
Something I’d been holding tight inside my head for years finally gave way.
I grabbed the stiletto blade from the coffee table and pressed it to Teresa’s throat. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Sobs kept tearing out of me.
“You did this on purpose.”
She’d talked Rocco into getting the same tattoo as the man who raped me — just to watch me break.
Something shifted in Teresa’s face — just for a second, gone in a blink. She tilted her chin up and held my stare.
“It’s just ink, Camelia. Don’t be so dramatic.”
I nearly broke apart right there. My hand pressed harder before I could stop it.
A thin line of red opened across her neck. Teresa laughed.
Something slammed into me from the side — Rocco — and then a slap cracked across my face so hard my skin burned.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
I blinked through the tears and found nothing in his eyes but fury.
“Maybe I have!” I dragged myself upright, laughing and crying at the same time — laughing so hard I could barely stand.
“Do you even know why she wanted you to get that tattoo?”
Before I could finish, Teresa screamed. Blood was streaming down her thighs.
Every trace of color drained from Rocco’s face. I may as well have stopped existing.
He scooped Teresa up and slammed his elbow into my chest to clear his path. He looked at me over his shoulder — ice.
“If she loses my heir, you’re a dead woman.”
He walked out. Didn’t look back.
I crumpled to the floor. Something inside my chest split clean in two. I had no tears left.
I walked out in a fog. I made it one step past the door before black swallowed me whole.
…
I woke up in a hospital bed. The nurse’s mouth was moving. It took me a second to actually hear the word.
Threatened miscarriage. You almost lost the baby.
They’d tried my emergency contacts. No one picked up.
“Is there anyone who can come be with you?” she asked.
I lay there. The pillow was wet before I even realized I was crying.
My parents were states away. In that whole city, the only people I had were Rocco and Teresa.
Neither of them came.
The only thing I got was another round of photos from Teresa. The two of them wrapped around each other — kissing, shameless, free.
I scrolled through every single one. Couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
Jealousy and hatred burned steady inside me, like a pilot light that never went out.
How dare they be happy — after everything they’d taken from me?
I wasn’t done. I pulled up the sonogram I’d been saving and sent it to Rocco.
No reply. He showed up at my ward’s door close to dark.
His eyes dropped to my stomach. There was something heavy behind them.
“When did you find out?” he asked.
I smiled — the kind that could cut.
“The day Teresa was trying on wedding dresses. That’s when I was going to tell you.”
He didn’t say a word. He just lit one cigarette off the last. The smoke thickened between us until I could barely make out his face.
Whatever war he was fighting, he kept it hidden behind the smoke. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost flat.
“Get the abortion. The heir to my Family will only be born from an untainted womb.”
“Teresa and I already talked about it. Our baby’s going to call you Mom.”
Every drop of blood in my body went cold. I stared at him like I’d forgotten how to blink.
He came to the bed and took my hand. Squeezed it — gently, like he meant it.
“Isn’t this better? We both still love you.”
My stomach turned inside out. I shoved him away and doubled over the side of the bed, retching.
His jaw tightened. His voice went flat.
“It’s already scheduled.”
The door opened before he’d even finished. A doctor walked in. Hands clamped down on my arms.
I couldn’t fight them. Tears hit the tile beneath me.
“Rocco. I’m asking you one last time — do you really not want this baby?”
Something cracked in his eyes — just for a second. Then it closed right back up.
“Camelia, don’t do this.”
A laugh tore out of me — wild, unhinged. I wrenched free.
Every set of eyes in the room froze. I swung my legs over the windowsill and jumped.