The Shattered Hand

I was a brilliant artist.

But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years.

Vincent promised he'd make me whole again.

Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could.

But my hand remained numb, useless.

Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world.

"Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!"

"But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good."

"I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!"

It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me.

And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved.

He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body.

When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind.

That night, I burned everything that bound me to him.

Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime.

"Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

I'd ruined my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent. For three years, I couldn't create.

And I just found out it was all a trap—one he'd set for me, to protect his true love, Sophia.

"The procedure was a success. Mrs. Torrino's nerve damage has almost fully healed."

Leaning against the cool hallway wall outside my husband’s study, I heard the voice of our private physician, Dr. Martinez.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

Three years.

Could I finally create again?

"What?" Vincent's voice was sharp, laced with shock. "What do you mean, healed?"

"Well, sir, I've been administering a saline placebo as you asked, no actual treatment. But her body seems to be healing on its own..."

"You idiot!" Vincent hissed, his voice a low, furious snarl. "I told you to make sure she could never create again. What the hell did you do?"

My blood ran cold.

My hand...

Vincent... he did this on purpose.

"Boss, her nerve damage was treatable from the start. But Miss Sophia insisted..."

"Enough!" Vincent cut him off. "Find a way to ruin her hand again, and do it now! I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!"

Dr. Martinez's voice trembled. "Boss, if we attempt another procedure, Mrs. Torrino might suffer permanent paralysis... or worse."

"I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!"

I clamped a hand over my mouth, choking back a sob.

For three years, I believed it was a tragic accident.

It was all a meticulously crafted lie.

Sophia, the deadly assassin always at his side...

After they left, I slipped back into the study.

I knew the code to his safe—our wedding anniversary.