My husband, Don Reginald, and my parents threw me in prison on the very night I gave him his heir.

All because my sister, Felicia, set me up.

She claimed I gave her a wild horse at the family races—a horse she knew she couldn't handle. It went crazy. It trampled a senator to death.

With the FBI breathing down our necks, the whole family made me take the fall. Three years.

Reginald didn't care that I'd just had our son. He pushed me. Over and over.

"It was your horse. If you hadn't given it to her, the Feds wouldn't be after Felicia. Just do the time. When you get out, you'll still be my Donna."

Three years later, I came back. Nothing had changed. They still chose her.

Even the son I bled for now calls Felicia "Mama." He looks right through me, his own mother.

I didn't fight. Not like the old me. I just walked away.

But when I finally vanished for good, Reginald lost his mind. He tore the world apart, begging me to come back. To be his Donna again.

In the dead of night, Reginald’s hand snaked around my waist. His thumb brushed the swell of my breast.

"Don't."

I shoved him off, scrambling up like I was trying to escape.

He wouldn't be denied. He loomed behind me, his voice a low growl of possession. "We're married, Rosabella. And besides…"

His breath was hot on my ear, his voice turning slick. "Leo is three now. It's time you gave me another child."

Bile rose in my throat. I stumbled to the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet.

Reginald followed me in. The air in the small room went still. His face was a mask of confusion and frustration.

"What's wrong with you? You've been back a month, and you won't even let me touch you... Are you..."

I gripped the sink, staring at my pale face in the mirror. I cut him off.

"It's nothing. I'm just not feeling well. I used to be so stubborn. Don't worry. I won't be like that anymore."

Right. I was the problem. Always jealous of my perfect sister. Jealous of how she had our parents wrapped around her finger. Jealous that she had her own husband but still needed mine.

But I didn't care anymore. Not even when the child I bore three years ago called Felicia "Mama" right in front of me.

Reginald just stared, like he wanted to say more. But my mind was already gone. Back to three years ago.

The private hospital delivery room.

I had just given birth to Leo. I was weak, lying in bed, the tiny baby bundled in my arms.

"He's beautiful. My son and Reginald's. He'll be the perfect heir." I stroked his soft cheek, my heart overflowing.

The door flew open with a kick. My father, Don Magnus, stormed in, flanked by four of his men.

"Rosabella!" His roar shook the windows. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Papa?" I clutched my baby tighter, confused. "I just gave birth—"

"The race! That goddamn horse!" He pointed a shaking finger at me. "We spoiled you rotten. Now you pay the price!"

I froze.

"What? I don't understand—"

"The horse you gave Felicia was drugged! It went wild and trampled a senator!" Magnus’s face was beet red. "Now the FBI is coming for us!"

"It wasn't my fault!" I tried to explain. "Felicia was the one who insisted on riding my horse. I warned her she couldn't handle him..."

Before I could finish, the world spun.

The world went black. My next conscious thought was the metallic chill of an interrogation room. Reginald sat across from me. Not a hair out of place. Not a flicker of warmth in his eyes.

"Reginald!" I tried to stand. "You're here to save me! Tell them, it wasn't my fault! It was Felicia—"

"Rosabella." He cut me off. His voice was like a winter wind. "You're going to confess."

"What?"

"You owe this to Felicia."

"Why?" I stared at him, my world crumbling. "Reginald, I'm your wife! I just gave you a son!"

"The shock of the fall... Felicia had a miscarriage." His eyes were cold, dead pools of brown. "She lost the baby. She may never be able to have another."

The floor fell out from under me.

"So?"

"So, Leo will be raised by her. As compensation." Reginald stood up, looking down at me. "You can't be selfish anymore, Rosabella. This is a family decision. Do this, and when you get out, you'll still be my Donna."

"No!" I screamed. "He's my son! MY SON!"

But no one listened.

"Rosabella?" Reginald's voice pulled me back to the present.

I blinked, putting my mask back on.

"I'm sorry." I turned to face him, my face a calm blank. "I'm just... still adjusting. It's all in the past now."

His expression was complicated, a flicker of unease in his eyes.

"Are you still mad I gave Leo to Felicia?" he tested. "The Moretti family broke off her engagement after the miscarriage. She's in a lot of pain, and she might not be able to have children..."

"I really don't mind."

My answer just confused him more.

The old Rosabella would have screamed. Thrown things. Cried for days.

This new me was as still as a dead lake.

"We'll have other children," Reginald said, but it sounded forced, like he was trying to convince himself. "When you've recovered—"

His phone rang, cutting him off.

The screen flashed: Felicia.

He glanced at it, then hesitated.

"Answer it," I said calmly.

His eyes widened. He clearly didn't expect that.

He picked up. Felicia's crying voice came through the speaker. "Reginald, I'm at the Gold Dust Casino... I drank too much, can you come get me?"

"I'm on my way." Reginald hung up and looked at me.

"Go on," I said, turning back to my vanity and starting to take off my makeup. "Drive safe."

Reginald just stood there. He went pale.

"You're really not angry?"

"Why would I be?" I met his eyes in the mirror. "Go. Don't keep her waiting."

He stood there for a long time, his face a war of emotions.

Finally, he left.

An engine roared to life outside the manor, then faded into the distance.

I walked numbly to the full-length mirror.

Beneath my nightgown, a jagged scar cut across my lower stomach.

A "gift" from a rival family's woman inside. And the reason I'll never carry another child.

Reginald wants another kid? Felicia can't have one?

I didn't care anymore.

Twenty minutes later, I was back in bed, holding a burner phone.

The screen lit up with a new email.

From: The UN Refugee Agency

I opened it.

Dear Ms. Rossi:

Congratulations on passing your final interview. You have been officially hired as one of our war photographers.

Assignment: Syrian Border Refugee Camp

Report Date: One Month

Looking at the acceptance letter, a real smile touched my lips for the first time in three years.

One more month, and I'd be free of this cage. It felt good.

I was just about to fall asleep when I heard an engine downstairs.

More than one.

Usually, when Reginald left for Felicia, he was gone all night.

I frowned and went to the window. His armored Cadillac was in the driveway, and right behind it was a pink Maserati.

Felicia’s car.

My breath hitched. He brought her here?

I heard the front door open, then footsteps and low voices.

Silently, I went to my door and cracked it open.

"Reginald, are you sure this is a good idea?" It was Felicia's voice, soft and weak like always. "Now that my sister is back, shouldn't Leo be with her?"

"No." Reginald's voice was ice. "Rosabella was always spoiled. Three years in prison... it broke something in her. I won't let her near the heir."

Every word was a knife in my chest.

"But what if she..." Felicia trailed off. "What if she asks for a divorce?"

Reginald let out a short, confident laugh that made me sick.

"She won't, Felicia. She can't live without me."

I closed my eyes, and the memories flooded in.

Exile. Sent to Sicily at eight years old because my father's business was weak.

"Your parents abandoned you!" The taunts of the other children.

Five years later, I came home. But it wasn't my home anymore. Felicia had my room. My photos were gone, replaced by hers. Her sweet smile, her eyes full of poison.

Then Michael, my first love at fifteen. The roses he gave me. The next day, Felicia's tears. "She pushed me down the stairs, Papa!"

Locked in the freezing cellar all night. A fever of 104.

Waking up to hear Felicia bragging to her friends. "Michael's my boyfriend now."

After that, I gave up on trying to earn my parents' love. I rebelled. I rode motorcycles, went to underground casinos, drank all night. Anything to forget the pain.

Until Reginald. The heir to the Falcone family. Handsome, cold, powerful. He looked at me differently.

"You like photography?" he asked, nodding at the camera in my hands.

"Yeah," I said, guarded. Felicia had just "accidentally" broken my last one. This was a new one I'd bought with my own money.

"Then do it," Reginald said. "A mafia princess can be a photographer, too."

It was the first time anyone had ever supported my dream.

Then Reginald again. The car bomb at my birthday party. The explosion. He ran into the fire, pulling me from the wreckage without a second thought.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he'd choked out, holding my bloody body, his own voice shaking.

In that moment, I thought I had found the light of my life.

But all of that was gone.

Three years in prison taught me one thing: anger and tears are a luxury. Only a cool head keeps you alive. In that place, where you only got a meal if you knelt and let someone stomp your head into the dirt, nothing mattered anymore.

No one is so important that you can't live without them. I could live just fine without Reginald.

I walked silently back into my room and pulled open the bottom drawer of my wardrobe.

Then, I picked up the divorce papers and walked, one step at a time, to face Reginald.

I walked down the stairs, papers in hand.

In the living room, Reginald and Felicia were on the couch. Leo was curled up in Felicia's lap.

They looked like a perfect family.

And I was the intruder.

"Rosabella?" Reginald froze when he saw me. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Felicia immediately clutched Leo tighter, as if I were some kind of monster.

"Sister... I'm sorry, I just needed Reginald to take me home, I didn't mean to wake you..." Her voice trembled, her eyes red-rimmed.

Still such a good actress.

"Are you angry with me?" Reginald stood, frowning at me. "Because I brought Felicia back?"

"No."

I held the papers out to him.

"What's this?" Reginald took them, confused, not opening them.

"Just some documents. They need your signature."

Reginald glanced at the cover, assuming it was a deed for the estate or some asset agreement.

His expression instantly softened.

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescending pity. "The villa on Lake Como. You always liked it there." He stroked my cheek, like I was a pet. "And the Swiss account. Is ten million enough to start?"

He thought I just wanted some financial security.

"And that Greek island, the one you said you wanted to photograph at sunset," Reginald went on, his tone growing softer. "It can all be yours."

In his eyes, I was just a wife feeling insecure because of Felicia's presence. A problem to be solved with money.

"Just sign," I said.

Reginald didn't even read the document. He just picked up a pen.

"Of course. It was all yours to begin with."

He was about to sign his name—

"Don't!"

A small body suddenly launched itself at me.

Leo, with all the force his three-year-old body could muster, slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

"Bad woman!" he shrieked, standing over me, his little face contorted with rage. "Family traitor! You can't have our money!"

I fell backward, my knee hitting the sharp corner of the coffee table.

Blood seeped out.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the feeling of my heart being ripped in two.

This was my son. The child I carried for nine months and fought to bring into this world. And he was calling me a traitor.

It was just like at his school. The memory flashed, sharp and painful. I’d gone to see him, just days after getting out. I found him bullying a smaller kid.

"My dad is the Don! You mess with me?"

"You're an orphan!" Leo had laughed, a cruel, vicious sound. "Orphans are meant to be stepped on!"

When I pulled him away, he pointed at me and screamed, "Liar! You're the bitch trying to ruin our family!"

The other teachers and parents all stared at me, their eyes filled with judgment. In that moment, I understood. Felicia had completely poisoned my son.

Blood dripped from my knee, staining the carpet.

Even though I knew my son wasn't the boy I dreamed he'd be, my heart still ached.

"Rosabella!" Reginald rushed over to help me up.

"Is this your idea of a good upbringing?" I looked at Reginald, my voice ice cold. "Is this what Felicia taught him?"

Reginald's face darkened. As if to appease me, he quickly signed the papers, then looked down at Leo.

"Leo, apologize to her! Now!"

"No!" Leo hid behind Felicia. "She's the bad woman! Mama, don't let her take our home!"

Mama.

He called Felicia Mama.

"I'm so sorry, sister..." Felicia held Leo, tears in her eyes. "It's my fault, I didn't raise him right..."

"Don't say sorry to her!" Leo yelled. "Mama, you can't bow to bad people!"

That one stung.

It was just like when we were kids. Father always accusing me of bullying Felicia, forbidding her from apologizing to her "vicious sister."

"Leo!" Reginald's voice grew sterner. "She is my wife! The Donna of this family! You will show her respect!"

Leo froze, clearly scared by Reginald's anger.

But I was done with this whole charade.

I stood up, dragging my injured leg, and started for the stairs.

Behind me, I heard Reginald's voice.

"Leo, you listen to me! Rosabella is the Donna of this family. Everything we have is hers! You will respect her!"

I stopped and glanced back.

Leo was looking at the floor, muttering, "I know," but his face was full of hate.