And the date? It was the exact date my car had broken down in the middle of a storm. I had called Giacomo and Pietro begging them to come pick me up, but they didn't answer my calls and claimed they were in a sit-down.
That night I took a shortcut through a stretch of contested territory and was robbed and stabbed twelve times and almost bled out in an alley, except for a stranger who saved me.
I was nine months pregnant then. I lost my baby and had eighteen stitches.
So two years ago, when I almost died, my husband was binding himself to someone else, which made him too busy to save me.
My chest clenched so violently, I couldn't sit still.
I stood up, but the ground spun. My knees gave out. I hit the floor, sobbing, gasping for air.
"No… it can't be."
The consigliere rushed to my side.
"Miss, are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?"
His voice echoed like it was underwater.