Everyone envied my marriage to Luca Moretti, the ruthless mafia king who ruled the city with blood and power.

To the world, I was the one woman he would never betray.

For five years, he put me above everyone else. Protected me. Chose me. Worshipped me.

Until I found out even a man like him could cheat.

I tricked him into signing the divorce papers and disappeared overseas, determined to cut myself out of his empire for good.

But Luca refused to let me go.

He used the full reach of his underworld network to find me, then begged me for another chance. He swore he had been drugged, that the other woman meant nothing, that I was the only one he had ever loved. He promised he had already cut her out of his life.

And for a year, he proved it.

He chased me across countries, tore down every wall I built, and in the end, he asked me to marry him again in front of the whole world.

Under fireworks and a global livestream watched by millions, I said yes.

I thought this time we would finally get our forever.

Then I went in for a prenatal checkup… and found him with them.

Sofia Romano.

And the little boy.

A perfect little family I was never supposed to see.

In that instant, every promise he had made turned to ash.

So I arranged a fatal car crash.

If a divorce still wasn’t enough to escape a mafia king’s obsession, then I would vanish the only way he could never drag me back.

This time, I’m not leaving alone.

I’m taking our unborn child with me—and disappearing from his world forever.

A year after we remarried, I went to the hospital alone after days of nausea and exhaustion.

“Congratulations,” the doctor said with a smile. “You’re eight weeks pregnant. The baby looks healthy, development is right on track, and everything seems stable. Just get plenty of rest and don’t overdo it.”

I walked out of the exam room clutching the scan report, I was already imagining the look on his face when I told him.

Then I looked up—and stopped cold.

At the far end of the corridor, Luca Moretti was holding a little boy no older than one. His expression was soft, patient, almost tender. Beside him stood Sofia Romano in a loose beige dress, her features delicate, her voice low and gentle.

The same woman who had once torn through my marriage under the excuse of one drunken mistake.

For a second, my mind went completely blank.

Before I could stop myself, I followed them.

They disappeared into a pediatric exam room just down the hall. I stayed just outside, hidden from view, and listened.

“The child is doing much better,” the doctor said. “Nothing serious. He’s just been running a fever on and off with the weather change, so keep a close eye on him.”

Then there was a pause.

When the doctor spoke again, his tone had changed.

“Mr. Moretti, aren’t you worried your wife might find out? You told me before she can’t stand lies.”

Silence filled the room for two long seconds.

Then Luca answered, calm and unhurried.

“She won’t find out.”

He said it so casually, like he was discussing a business arrangement instead of my life.

“Elena trusts me. And she loves me. The last time things got ugly, she forgave me in the end, didn’t she?”

The doctor sounded uneasy. “Still… secrets don’t stay buried forever. What if she does find out one day? Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?”

For a moment, Luca said nothing. I could picture him looking down at the child in his arms.

Then he gave a faint, almost amused laugh.

“Then I’ll apologize. I’ll explain. Elena has a soft heart. If I admit I was wrong, she’ll come back.”

He paused, then added in that same steady voice,

“And the kid is already a year old. It’s been too long. As long as everyone here keeps their mouth shut, she’ll never know.”

Every word sliced into me, slow and deliberate.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t lose me.

It was that he never believed he would.

Luca wasn’t holding on to me because I was irreplaceable. He was holding on because he was certain that no matter what he did, I would still be there when he turned around.

My throat burned, thick and tight, but no tears came.

Only then did I understand.

This hospital visit was never a gift.

It was the moment the last of my illusions was ripped away.

I didn’t storm into the room. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t give Luca another chance to perform love.

I just turned around and walked away.

Out of the hospital.

Once I was outside, I took out my phone and called the number I had once heard whispered about in circles where power, money, and disappearance could all be bought.

The line connected almost immediately.

“I want to commission a death.”

The woman on the other end didn’t sound surprised. “Go on.”

“I need to disappear within three days,” I said. “Completely. No trail. No body. No way for anyone to find me. I want the world to believe I’m dead.”

I stopped, my hand drifting to my still-flat stomach.

“And my baby comes first. Whatever you arrange, my child stays safe.”

There was only the briefest pause.

“Three million dollars,” she said. “And it can be done.”

I didn’t hesitate.

A divorce hadn’t been enough to free me from a man like Luca Moretti.

So this time, I would use death.

And I would not give him another chance to beg, explain, or drag me back into his world.

This time, I was taking my child and vanishing for good.

After everything was arranged, I went home.

The moment I stepped through the front door and handed my coat to one of the maids, I heard Luca’s voice drift from the dining room.

“Elena, where have you been?”

He came toward me fast, his brow drawn tight, the worry in his face completely unhidden.

“I called you several times. You never answered. I was close to sending men out to look for you.”

As he spoke, he took my bag from my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“The kitchen just got in a fresh shipment of salmon from that supplier you love in Sicily. I had the chef prepare it two ways for you—carpaccio and seared in cream sauce. Another twenty minutes and it would’ve been ruined.”

He said it so easily, so familiarly, as if there had never been a fracture between us. As if the scene I had witnessed at the hospital only hours ago—him with Sofia and their little boy—had been some grotesque hallucination instead of the truth.

I looked at him and felt cold all the way through.

Only a few hours earlier, he had been sitting in a pediatric clinic with another woman and their child, calmly telling a doctor I would never find out.

And now here he was, standing in our house like the perfect husband, worried that I’d missed dinner.

I parted my lips to answer, but the smell of fish drifting out from the dining room hit me too hard.

My stomach lurched.

I turned away and pressed a hand to my mouth, gagging.

Luca’s expression changed instantly.

“What’s wrong?” He was at my side in a second. “Is your stomach acting up again?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quietly. “I had an iced coffee earlier. I think it just hit me badly.”

Without hesitation, he turned to the butler.

“Get rid of the salmon. Have the kitchen make her warm pumpkin soup instead. Something light.”

I watched him move the entire household with a single sentence just because I said I didn’t feel well, and something in my chest twisted painfully.

If I hadn’t seen what I saw today, I might have believed he truly loved me the way he always claimed he did.

“Sit down for a while,” he said, guiding me gently toward the sitting room. “Eat something warm, then go upstairs and rest. Tomorrow is our first wedding anniversary. I wanted to have you try on your dress tonight, but I guess that’ll have to wait until morning.”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

A moment later, a woman’s voice floated in from the foyer.

“Sorry to come by so late.”

Then Sofia Romano walked in with the child in her arms.

She wore a simple ivory dress, understated and elegant, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders. The little boy—about a year old—rested against her chest, wide dark eyes taking in everything around him. In her hand, she carried a deep blue gift box.

Luca’s face darkened at once.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was ice now, nothing like the warmth he had used with me only moments before.

Sofia held herself stiffly, all business.

“The gift you ordered through our auction house.”

She handed the box to the butler without lowering her eyes.

Luca stared at her, his expression turning lethal.

“I told you to leave this city.”

Her chin lifted. “I did. I’m only back on business. I leave again tomorrow.”

Then she looked at me, and there was something sharp, almost amused, in her expression.

“Why exactly did you want me gone so badly? Unless Donna is afraid—”

“Enough.”

The look he gave her was pure warning.

And then,the little boy in her arms stretched both hands toward Luca and let out a sleepy, garbled plea.

“Up.”

Luca went still for the briefest second. I caught the flicker in his eyes before he buried it.

“Take your child and leave,” he said coldly. “And if you ever show up in front of my wife again, I won’t be merciful.”

Sofia’s jaw tightened. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but in the end she only turned toward the door. Before stepping out, she glanced back at me once.

It was triumph in her eyes.

When she was gone, silence settled over the house.

Luca stood there for two seconds, then turned back to me, his whole expression already softened again.

“Elena, don’t let someone that insignificant ruin your evening.”

He crossed the room and stopped in front of me, his voice low and gentle.

“Everything for tomorrow is already set. The yacht, the dinner, the fireworks, even that band you love. I’m spending the whole day with you. Nothing’s going to get in the way.”

I looked at him without answering.

If I hadn’t heard the truth at the hospital, if I hadn’t just seen that child reach for him with the instinct of someone used to being held by him, maybe I would have believed him.

Maybe I would have let myself fall for this version of Luca Moretti again.

But now all I felt was the sick, hollow weight of how ridiculous it all was.

I didn’t confront him.

I didn’t tear the lie apart.

I just lowered my eyes and said softly, “Okay.”

When I woke the next morning, Luca’s side of the bed was already empty.

Just then, my phone vibrated on the nightstand.

It was the call from the company.

“Ms. Elena Moretti, everything you requested is in place. Cleanup, severing your identity, and establishing your new one have all been completed.”

I gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and ended the call.

A second later, another message appeared on my screen. This one was from Luca.

Elena, something urgent came up at the casino. I have to handle it myself. Go on ahead to Emerald Isle and wait for me there.

Emerald Isle.

I looked at the words, and a faint, bitter smile touched my lips.

Two years ago, Luca had bought the private island for an obscene amount of money. White sand, a private dock, a glass villa facing the sea. When he placed the deed in my hands, he had held my fingers and promised that every anniversary, he would take me there for a few quiet days, away from everyone else.

But the truth was, he had never once really been free on our anniversary.

As head of the Moretti family, there was always something. The books from the underground casinos. Weapons shipments that needed his approval. Family council meetings called without warning, even in the middle of the night.

Over the years, I had gotten used to waiting for him on days that were supposed to belong to us.

Four years ago, it had been the same.

I waited from noon until deep into the night before he finally came home, carrying the cold wind in with him. He held me and apologized over and over, promising he would make it up to me. That was the night I laughed and told him that if he really wanted to make it up to me, he could sign the beach house over to me.

I slipped the divorce papers into the property transfer documents and got his signature on the last page.

By then, I already knew about the affair.

After I left, he went mad trying to find me.

In the end, someone gave him my location for enough money.

This year, there would be no second thoughts. No one would drag me back.

After I got dressed and packed what I needed, I went downstairs.

The butler was already waiting.

“Mrs. Moretti, before he left, Mr. Moretti instructed us to prepare the yacht and an escort team if you were going to Emerald Isle.”

I nodded, but before I could answer, my phone chimed with a new message.

It came from an unknown account.

You always said betrayal was the one thing you could never forgive, didn’t you? The first time Luca slept with me, you ran straight to divorce. Now my child with him is already a year old. Are you really still going to stay?

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Then a video came through.

Luca was sitting on a sofa, his suit jacket tossed aside, his shirt sleeves rolled up. The little boy—was in his arms.

The child fussed for a moment, then quieted, pressing his face against Luca’s chest with the easy trust of someone who knew that place well.

I stared at the screen, feeling as though something had been carved out of my chest, leaving nothing behind but cold air.

So that was the emergency at the casino.

So that was why he wanted me to go ahead to Emerald Isle without him.

It was never about business.

It was about another woman and their child.

I slowly locked the screen and let out a breath.

Last night, some part of me had still wondered whether today might at least be a clean ending.

But even that small shred of dignity had been too much to expect from Luca.

At the marina parking area, the butler and the security detail got out with me.

I stopped them before they could come any farther.

“You can go back. I’m going alone. It’s our first anniversary after remarrying. I don’t want anyone else there.”

The butler hesitated. “But Mr. Moretti said—”

“I have a yacht license. I’ll be fine.”

My voice was soft, but final.

Then I turned and walked straight toward the dock.

The white yacht sat at its private berth, sleek and still in the early light, like some great animal waiting beneath the sun. By the time I stepped onto the deck, no one followed me.

I slid into the helm, and before starting the engine, I called the company.

“I’ve left.”

The voice on the other end did not waste words.

“Understood.”

I ended the call and pushed the throttle forward.

The yacht cut across the water. The sea wind lifted my hair, and sunlight shattered across the waves in blinding sheets of gold.

Half an hour later, the yacht entered the designated waters.

Then—

The explosion tore through everything at once.

Fire swallowed the sky.