CHAPTER 127: THE SILENT WARD

Alessia in fragments — the sterile sting of disinfectant, the soft hum of machines, the rhythmic beeping that reminded her she was still alive.

Her lashes fluttered open to a blur of white ceiling lights and faint shadows moving beyond the curtain.

Pain throbbed low in her abdomen, dull but insistent. When she tried to move, a hand gently pressed her shoulder down.

"Easy, ma’am.please don’t move yet."

A nurse — young, calm, her voice like warm water checked the monitors and scribbled something on a clipboard.

Alessia blinked, disoriented. "Where... am I?"

"San Lucio General," the nurse replied softly. "You were brought in last night, by an older lady we recognized as one of the morano maids . You lost some blood, but you and the babies are stable now."

"oh my babies..." Alessia’s hand instinctively moved her hands around her stomach.

Beneath the thin hospital sheet, she felt the round, firm swell that had grown heavier with each passing month. The warmth of life pulsed beneath her palm, fragile yet defiant.

Her throat tightened. "They are... really okay?"

The nurse smiled faintly. "Miraculously, yes. The doctor said it’s nothing short of divine. The ultrasound shows two strong heartbeats."

Tears welled in Alessia’s eyes.

She turned her face away, her breath shaking.

She remembered the blood — too much of it — the cold floor of her room, the whisper that had called her name. Then, nothing.

Someone had found her. Or something had spared her.

The nurse adjusted the IV drip. "You need rest. The doctor will see you soon." She hesitated, then added, "You are very lucky, ma’am. Whatever happened last night... it’s as if the world decided you weren’t meant to leave it yet."

Then she was gone, leaving Alessia in the hush of the hospital room.

Rain tapped against the window, soft and steady.

The world outside was gray, blurred by mist.

Alessia stared at her reflection in the glass.

Her face was pale, her eyes hollow, the faint curve of her stomach visible even beneath the gown. She had been hiding it for months now — from enemies, from the Council’s spies, from those who would see her unborn children of Moranos lineage as curses instead of miracles.

Luca had sworn to protect them all.

And yet... he hadn’t come.

The clock on the wall ticked toward noon, No footsteps... No familiar voices, No one at all.

A quiet ache bloomed in her chest.

Was he searching for her? Or had the Council’s letter broken something she couldn’t fix?

She remembered the way he’d looked at her when he drop her off and returned to work before... She perhaps passed out. Torn between love and war, between oath and fear.

He had said he had fght them. But what if, this time, even Luca couldn’t win?

She curled her fingers into the blanket. "You promised," she whispered to the emptiness. "You said nothing could take me from you."

As if in answer, the rain intensified, drumming harder against the window.

Hours passed in a haze of silence and steady machines.

The doctor came and went, a kind-eyed man who spoke in the calm, detached rhythm of experience.

"You need to avoid stress," he said, flipping through her chart. "Your blood pressure is unstable. But both babies are strong. Very strong, actually. Almost... defiant, if I may say so."

Alessia gave a weak smile. "They may take after their father."

The doctor chuckled softly. "Then you will have your hands full."

When he left, the room felt too large again, the walls too quiet.

She turned her face to the window, tracing the raindrops as they slid down the glass.

Then — a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," she called gently.

A nurse wheeled in a small tray. On it sat a white box wrapped in gold ribbon, a folded note, a velvet box, and a bouquet of fresh lilies.

The fragrance filled the room instantly — sweet, rich, too perfect to be real.

Alessia blinked in surprise. "Who sent this?"

The nurse smiled. "It was delivered while you we’re asleep. No name, but it says it’s from your someone who loved you dearly."

Her heart skipped. "Luca, it must be my husband?"

"i think that’s what the label is trying to say, Ma’am." The nurse said with a smile on her face and set the tray beside her bed and left, the door closing softly behind her.

Alessia stared at the package for a long moment, her pulse quickening.

My Luca of course. He must have found out she was here. He must have sent this to let her know he hadn’t given up.

Her chest warmed with relief. Maybe he couldn’t come — not yet — but he was still with her, and she knew he will surely come.

She reached for the note first, the envelope smooth beneath her trembling fingers. A faint scent of wax and spice clung to it.

She opened it carefully.

The handwriting was elegant and in cursive.

Her smile begin to fade with each line she read.

"To Alessia Bianchi,

You have brought more good than harm to the Morano family.

The late Alessandro Morano’s bloodline has long been known for peace and honor.

You, however, have awakened something that does not belong in their history.

Walk away now — honorably before you are disgraced.

Your husband will not come for you. He prepares the final dissolution of your bond even as you read this.

Enclosed is a signed cheque. Put any amount you desire.

Leave the Morano family, and you will walk away with your dignity intact.

There is no need for conflict, no need for tears.

End it now, while the world still whispers your name kindly.

We wish you peace — far from the darkness that follows your bloodline.

— The Council of Shadows

P.S. Enjoy the cakes. A farewell gift.

The world remembers those who leave quietly without humility.

Her breath hitched.

The words blurred before her eyes as tears welled, one falling onto the parchment, smearing the ink slightly.

"Divorce..." she whispered. "He wouldn’t..."

Her hand trembled as she reached for the rest of the tray. The white box contained two small cakes — one velvet, one strawberry, both beautifully decorated, untouched. The check sat neatly beneath them, unsigned except for Luca’s name — perfectly forged, though she could see the difference in the pen stroke.

Her throat tightened until she could barely breathe.

They knew she was here.

They knew everything, They must have spy her closely.

And the cruelest part — they wanted her to think Luca had given up on her.

Her eyes dropped to the flowers — lilies, her favorite. White, pure, and symbolically tragic.

She let out a shaky breath. "How did they even find me?" she whispered to the empty room.

A sudden gust rattled the window. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw a shadow flicker beyond the glass — something that shouldn’t be there.

She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady herself.

"No," she muttered. "Not again."

But the whisper returned, soft, taunting, like a ghost in the corner of her mind.

He will leave you.

Alessia closed her eyes, fighting the tears. "You are lying. He promised me. He will come."

She looked down at the letter again. The Council’s emblem was faintly embossed into the parchment — a crescent entwined with thorns. The symbol burned into her memory from the night the black box appeared.

A chill crept through her veins.

They weren’t just threatening her. They were playing a game — and she was the board.

Slowly, she folded the letter, slipping it beneath her pillow.

The cakes remained untouched, their frosting glinting under the pale light. The flowers looked almost too alive, their petals curling like fingers.

Another tear escaped her eye, falling onto the edge of the bed.

She had fought for love, for family, for a name that had always been soaked in blood and shadow. But now, even the hospital — this supposed place of safety — felt like a trap.

The silence deepened.

Then she had footsteps.

Soft, deliberate, coming closer down the corridor.

Her pulse spiked.

She quickly wiped her face, tucked the check and the letter deeper beneath the pillow, and sat upright, forcing her expression into calm.

The handle turned slightly — a metallic click echoing too loud in the stillness.

She froze, breath caught in her throat.

Whoever it was, they paused outside her door.

Then, there was silence.

Alessia’s fingers tightened around the blanket, her heart pounding in her ears.

The next sound was faint. A whisper of paper brushing against the floor.

Her eyes flicked down.

A single petal had fallen from the bouquet, its white edge streaked with crimson.

She swallowed hard, the tears she had fought so long finally spilling again.

The footsteps stopped right outside her door.

She wiped her cheeks quickly, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

Whoever it was , a friend or foe she couldn’t let them see the letter.

She slipped her hand beneath the pillow, pressing the folded parchment tight against her palm, and stared toward the door, her voice barely a whisper.

"Luca...?". There was no answer.

Only the rain and then slowly, careful turning of the doorknob......