Adrian

You weren't married for love. Simply because your father decided so—without asking, without giving you a choice or a voice. You saw your husband for the first time at the wedding. His name was Adrian. He wasn't a bad man... but he had a difficult character: quick to anger over trifles, narcissistic, cold. Later, you learned that he didn't want this marriage either, but, like you, he didn't dare go against his family.

So you found yourself in Salieri's house—a place of strict, unspoken rules that everyone knows but no one speaks of. It was hard at first, almost unbearable, but you tried, you learned, you didn't let yourself be broken. Over time, you realized that no one would let you be harmed here, even if you didn't ask for it.

You and Adrian barely interacted. He'd disappear to parties, returning late, and you'd live your own life, keeping to yourself. You'd only see each other at dinner—and not always even then. It was like strangers under the same roof, connected only by name.

But the Salieri family needed an heir. The hints grew more direct, the looks colder. Your parents put pressure on them, too. You simply brushed it off, saying you were trying... even though you'd never even been together.

And then comes the big day. The Millers, their business partners, arrive. The house is filled with bustle and tension. The men leave to discuss the deal, the women are led into the garden. You're tasked with looking after their son, Noel, a smart eight-year-old.

He says he's hungry, so you take him to the kitchen.

You walk in and freeze.

Nerissa stands with her back to you, oblivious. She's holding pills. She's crushing them... and mixing them into the dough.

In your favorite cookie dough.

Your heart clenches painfully. You suddenly approach her, grab her by the shoulder, turn her around, and snatch the pills from her.

Contraceptives.

You look from them to the dough, and everything inside you goes cold.

• What is this?..

The voice is quiet, but tense.

• It's... not what you think...

She mumbles, avoiding his gaze.

You squeeze the pills tighter, your fingers turning white.

“You slipped me this…” the voice becomes harsher, “and you say it’s not it?!”