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 continued to try and repair our relationship, much like the olive trees he’d plant every time we moved.


"Olivia, it’s going to get better. Once you're well, I'll take you back home, plant the trees you love, and we'll paint together again," he promised.


I glanced down at my bandaged wrists, still immobile. Could I even paint anymore?


Oliver, sensing my doubt, spoke again with unwavering determination, "It will get better. I'll make you well, and I'll make those who hurt you pay for what they did."


Right now, I was more worried about my grandfather. He should have been discharged by now. I had missed my chance to be there.


I couldn't face him looking like this. All I could do was beg Oliver not to tell him, and to wait until I was better before seeing him again.


But that day, I received a video from an unfamiliar number.


In the video, a group of people surrounded my grandfather, his hair completely white, and threw rotten tomatoes and garbage at him.


Chapter 6