She Was the Stain He Couldn't Erase

My husband, Don Augusto Marchetti, was obsessed with cleanliness to the point of madness.

One night, because I had come home exhausted and collapsed onto the bed without washing away the dirt from the streets, he grabbed me and shoved me into a tub filled with disinfectant.

That single act destroyed everything.

I lost our child.

Lying in a pool of blood, barely conscious and trembling from the pain, I called him again and again. I begged him to send a doctor from the Family’s private clinic. I begged him to come save me.

But he was not with me.