"Darling, I heard the Family physician is doing the final blood confirmation today," Giorgio said quietly, his arm settling naturally around my shoulders. We stood beneath the corridor outside the medical wing—a pristine white building tucked behind the main estate, where all matters of flesh and lineage were handled with surgical precision. The line was silent and orderly, like people waiting for an irreversible verdict. Other couples from allied Families stood ahead of us, their unions equally arranged, equally binding.
"You've always hated the sight of blood, but don't worry." His voice dropped to something meant to sound tender. "I'll stay with you."
His tone was gentle and restrained, the kind practiced countless times before mirrors and in the company of men who valued performance above all else. I once would have believed it. Now it only felt precise and hollow, like the click of an empty chamber.