Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched.

Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn.

After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground.

There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them.

But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger.

The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!"

I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

"Vince just had to have a baby with me," Sophia Castellano said, her voice syrupy and smug. "He couldn't get enough of me last night. The pregnancy test results are out, and guess what?"

I stared at the fresh bruise blooming along her neck and the pregnancy test results she waved in front of my face. It felt like Vince Moretti had stabbed me from behind.

This wasn't her first time showing up. Yesterday was the first.

She came to me with a video—her and Vince tangled together—and tossed a black-gold credit card onto the table like it meant nothing.

Then she draped herself across a lounge chair, tilted her sunglasses down just enough to look at me with disdain. "No wonder Vince's not in love with you anymore," she sneered. "You're all used up. There's a million on that card. Take it and leave him."

Then came the declaration. "Honestly, he doesn't love you anymore. I didn't have to come, but Vince wants to give me a wedding. That means you two need to get divorced."

I almost laughed at that.

We needed to get divorced? Did Vince even know about this?

"Does Vince know you came to talk to me?" I asked, watching her casually.

She lifted her chin, confident that her place in Vince's heart was unshakable. Then she called him.

"Vince, come over, would you? There's a woman here you need to deal with."

Vince did come. Quickly, too. That much was true.

But the moment he saw me, his expression froze.

Sophia didn't notice. Or maybe she didn't care. Proud of her ability to summon him, she picked up a cup of hot tea from the table and poured it over my head.

I gave her a cold laugh. "Who gave you the guts to provoke me?"

The next moment, Vince stormed forward.

Sophia thought he was there to back her up. She smiled at him, right until he grabbed her by the hair and kicked her, again and again.

She couldn't even straighten up. Her face twisted with disbelief as his men finally dragged her out.

Until yesterday, the entire Macallum City border had been buzzing—rumors of a soft, pampered woman Vince doted on. They said he took her everywhere. Said she fainted at the sight of blood, so he kept her away from anything ugly. Said he spoiled her beyond reason.

I never believed it.

When I was kidnapped, Vince risked a bullet to the head and gave up everything to bring me home. When I went missing near the city border, he searched for me through the mountains, seven days and seven nights. Came back with his leg mangled from an animal attack. And still, all he did was hold me and whisper, "Isabella, don't be scared. I'm here."

All these years, he walked on knives for me. Every scar on his body told that story. Just to keep me safe.

So when Sophia stood before me, flaunting that video of them, I held it in trembling hands and choked out the words, "So the rumors... they're all true?"

He panicked. "I'm sorry, I'll take care of her, okay? I'll make her disappear—just please forgive me, Isabella..."

The hospital lights were the next thing I saw. I'd fainted from the shock.

I was already weak. Pregnant. The doctor warned me—emotional distress could easily lead to a miscarriage.

For years, no one in Macallum City's underworld dared touch me, not with Vince's power behind me. And now it was he who had sent me to the ER.

On the gurney, before they wheeled me into the emergency room, one thought kept repeating, 'This version of Vince is filthy. I don't want him anymore.'

But when I came out, he was on his knees.

No words. Just a knife.

He raised his hand and, with one swift motion, severed his own pinky finger in front of me.

"Isabella, it's my fault. I betrayed you. Please, forgive me. Just this once. I'm begging you."

We'd been in love for ten years. Of course, I felt the pain. So I gave him another chance.

And now, today, I was staring at the fresh bruises on Sophia's neck and the pregnancy test results she'd just slapped in my face.

Vince said he was going to "handle her." Apparently, that meant crawling back into her bed.

Reality landed like a slap—hard, final. It shattered every last piece of softness I had left.

The heartbreak was sharp, cutting through me like glass. And it brought with it a deep, tearing pain in my belly.

I felt it—blood, warm and sudden.

I knew.

My child wasn't going to make it.

I asked the doctor to keep the miscarriage a secret.

Elena Rossi, the doctor, was someone I'd rescued from the border. She only answered to me.

After that, I booked a ticket for a cruise trip to Sipore.

I touched my now-empty belly. The ache in my heart was unbearable.

It had taken ten years with Vince to finally have this child. I'd imagined, countless times, what our life as a family of three would be like.

I had already laid down my pride and forgiven him. All I asked was that he never betray me again.

Was that really too much?

On the way home, I received a message from him.

"I planned a celebration for you today. I'll come pick you up in a bit."

I passed through the front hall on my way back. From a distance, I saw the warm glow of the lights. As I got closer, I could hear a familiar, syrupy voice.

"I'm so jealous of Isabella… Vince, you even throw parties for her. When will I get something like that too?"

Through the narrow crack in the door, I saw Vince's face shift, his expression turning cold as he gripped Sophia's chin.

"As long as you don't stir things up in front of Isabella, I'll give you anything you want. Anything—except a title."

Sophia pouted.

"I want that pigeon-blood ruby necklace Isabella always wears. Please…"

He smiled and nodded.

"Just don't be stupid and show up in front of her. Whatever she has, you'll have too."

So all that anger and remorse he'd shown me before... it was just for show.

I thought that after what happened last time, he would pull back. That he'd treasure the second chance I gave him. That he wouldn't betray me again.

But the truth was, he never thought he did anything wrong. He just regretted getting caught.

Right then, my phone lit up—it was a call from Sophia.

As if worried I hadn't heard their flirting clearly, she'd made sure I did.

"Okay, I'll go get Isabella now."

Then her voice again, flirtatious, sticky-sweet. "Just stay with me a little longer, okay? Once Isabella's here, you'll be stuck with her all day…"

"I can't. I have to go. She just got pregnant, her body's weak—she's at risk of miscarriage."

"You only care about her baby. Did you forget? I'm pregnant with your child too. Why can't you care about me?"

"Of course I care. You're my baby, aren't you?"

I pushed open the door, as if I had just arrived.

"What are you celebrating?"

One of the staff answered with a bright smile, "Boss said you've been feeling down since the pregnancy, so we prepared a little celebration to cheer you up."

I laughed.

Everyone was helping Vince keep up the lie.

I turned to look toward an unlocked door. I couldn't see their faces, but on the floor, two overlapping shadows moved in a rhythm that needed no explanation.

Maybe they heard me arrive. Vince's voice was strained.

"Enough. If Isabella finds out, I won't be able to clean up the mess. I can't afford that."

"I know. But doesn't this make it more exciting? And it's been so long since we… you know… If she knew we've been together since three years ago, she'd lose her mind."

"If you keep teasing me like this, I'll have to punish you."

After that, there were no more words—only the faint sounds of breathless gasps, drawn-out and intimate.

My fingernails dug into my palms. The pain made my whole body tremble.

'Vince, this is how you trample over me—again and again.'

It was a full half hour before he finally stepped out of the room, pretending to have just finished some business meeting.

His face still glowed with the afterheat of what he'd been doing with her.

The smile he used to wear so gently now made me sick.

His hand reached out, resting on my belly, still warm from her skin.

"Has our baby been good today? Do you know how long I've wanted this child, Isabella?"

When I first told him I was pregnant, he cried from joy.

But that never stopped him from using those same hands—filthy from touching another woman—to put on a show of deep love in front of me.

The love and happiness I thought we had were just a veil of secrecy and lies.

Strip away the pretty surface, and what's left is nothing but despair.

After the party ended, Vince made an excuse and left early. I figured he was going back to keep Sophia company—still hidden away in that room.

Bang! Bang—

Two gunshots suddenly rang out from the top of the hill.

I blinked slowly, only to see a group of men from another territory walking straight toward me.

One of them pulled a gun, aimed it right at my forehead.

And just as I thought my time had come, Vince stepped in front of me.

Seeing him rush forward, the gunmen fired several more shots.

He threw his arms around me and tumbled with me down the slope, never once letting go.

A bullet had struck him in the left side of his chest. Sharp stones tore at his skin, and blood soaked his clothes.

Still, he held me close and whispered, "Don't be scared."

The intruders were quickly subdued. Turns out they were scouts from a rival faction, never expecting to run into me face-to-face.

Years ago, Vince had killed the wife of a border gang boss—she was pregnant at that time. That man had gone mad seeking revenge.

In the hospital, I sat in silence, watching Vince lie motionless in his hospital bed.

'You were willing to die for me. So why do you treat me like this?' I wondered.

His injuries were severe. But by the third day, he insisted on getting up, saying he had to attend an important negotiation with a mafia group.

At that, whatever softness had begun to creep back into my heart curdled into nausea.

He caught me staring. Guilt flashed across his face. "It's really important. I have to go."

"Okay," I said flatly.

Lately, wedding decorations had been showing up all over the compound. And last night, Sophia had sent me a wedding invitation.

Of course, I knew where Vince was going.

Maybe, as she'd said, Vince really didn't love me anymore.

And I, whenever I looked at his face now, all I could see was the image of him and Sophia tangled together.

Soon after, I boarded the cruise ship to Sipore.

…

A message from Vince lit up my phone: [I'm at the negotiation site, Isabella.]

As if desperate to prove himself, he even sent a photo of him supposedly mid-negotiation—right around the time he was standing at the altar with Sophia.

I knew the photo was fake, because I was watching the wedding live.

The livestream was a video call, courtesy of Sophia.

The wedding was held in a basement, probably to keep it hidden from me.

Vince stood at the altar in a groom's suit, the bloodstain on his left chest already soaking through the jacket.

Still, he went through with it.

On screen, the priest finished reading the vows. Vince kissed Sophia's hand and said with all the tenderness in the world, "I do."

At that moment, I laughed at myself.

Just this morning, he'd told me he had an urgent meeting. And somehow, stupidly, I still held onto a sliver of hope. Maybe he really did have something critical to deal with.

But that's who Vince is—the more you trust him, the more he plays you for a fool.

After the ceremony, he messaged me again: [The negotiation went smoothly. What do you want to eat tonight?]

[Was it really a negotiation?] I replied.

On the livestream, his expression changed. His face turned pale.

Then came a flurry of calls.

In a panic, he texted: [It really was a negotiation. Let me explain when I get back.]

I ended the livestream.

By then, I was already far from the border of Macallum, sailing quietly across the sea.