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.