ManyWriters

The boy I once saved grew up to be the Don of the Falcone family.
He was possessive. Obsessive.
For ten years, he caged me in his estate. My grandfather's life was the price for our marriage.
But my heart was the one thing he could never own.
So he found my replacement—a woman with my face.
One day, she stormed into the estate. "You bitch! You really got surgery to look like me? Just so you could go after my man?"
She smashed my wrists with a hammer. "You'll never paint again!"
I was left broken, bleeding.
That's when he returned. Don Oliver Falcone.
He didn't recognize my ruined face.
"Get rid of the intruder," he ordered.
"Wait!" the housekeeper cried, rushing out. "Boss, the Signora is missing!"

Where the Olive Trees Weep

Oliver ignored his men’s attempts to stop him, jumping into the deep pit to pull me out. His face was pale with panic, and he desperately wiped the paint and dirt from my face, murmuring over and over, "Olivia... I'm sorry. I'll do anything for you. Just open your eyes and look at me…"


Before, I had wanted to die. But now, because of my grandfather, I had a reason to live. I wanted to grab Oliver's arm, to beg him to save me, but my wrists were shattered, useless.


He looked at my deformed hands, his eyes wild with fury. "Your hands... Who did this to you?"


Oliver knew better than anyone how much I loved painting, and he knew what it meant to ruin my hands. He had once begged me to draw his portrait like I did when we were kids, hoping one day we could fix our broken relationship. Now, that hope had been severed forever.


Chapter 5