Reginald’s POV

I carried Felicia out of the living room. She clung to my neck, her body trembling.

"It's okay." I set her down on the safety of the lawn. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Felicia shook her head, tears in her eyes. "Reginald, thank you."

I looked at the east wing, still burning, and my heart seized.

"Rosabella."

I turned to run back in.

"Reginald!" Don Magnus grabbed my arm. "Are you crazy? The east wing is about to collapse!"

"Let go of me!" I shook him off. "Rosabella is still in there!"

"If you die, what about Leo? What about Felicia?" Magnus held on tight. "What about the family?"

"What about Rosabella?" I yelled at the old man, the first time I'd ever raised my voice to him. "Isn't she your daughter?!"

Magnus froze.

Just then—

SPLASH!

A huge splash came from the other side of the manor.

We all turned. Someone had jumped into the fountain.

My blood ran cold.

"Rosabella!"

I ran, not caring about anything else.

—

Rosabella’s POV

The cold water swallowed me. The impact knocked me out instantly.

The last thing I heard was Reginald’s guttural scream.

"Rosabella!"

But he was too late.

I woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of a machine. Reginald was slumped in a chair by the bed.

His suit was creased, his hair a wreck. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion. He looked… broken.

He shot up when my eyes fluttered open. "You're awake," he breathed, his voice raw. "Rosabella. How do you feel?"

"Where's Felicia?" I asked.

"She's fine." Reginald took my hand. "Why didn't you wait for me to save you?"

I just looked at him. The question was a joke.

"Were you?" I pressed, my voice flat. "If you could only save one of us. Me, or Felicia. Who would you have chosen?"

The silence that followed was louder than the fire. He couldn't even look at me.

He didn't have to. We both knew the answer.

"Rosabella... I..."

"Forget it." I closed my eyes. "I'm tired."

Reginald didn't leave.

For the next few days, he never left my side.

He fed me my medicine, changed my bandages, and even helped me with my physical therapy.

It was just like when we were first married.

Back then, it was just the two of us.

No Felicia, no family drama, no betrayals and lies. Just Reginald and me.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, stroking my forehead.

"No."

"Liar." His eyes were full of apology. "It's all my fault."

Is it?

You're finally admitting it? But I said nothing.

A week later, the doctor said I could go home.

Reginald came to pick me up himself.

"Let's go home," he said, starting the car.

Home. Was that place still my home?

Halfway there, Reginald's phone rang.

"What? Felicia's at the docks?" He frowned. "What's she doing in a place like that alone?"

The dockyards were one of the most dangerous parts of Chicago.

Rival gangs, turf wars, frequent shootouts.

"She's in trouble?" His voice got tense. "Okay, I'm on my way."

He hung up and pulled the car over.

"Rosabella, I have to go to the docks."

"Now?"

"Felicia's in trouble." Reginald unbuckled his seatbelt. "You go on home. I'll have a driver come get you."

He was going to leave me here?

I looked around.

He’d left me on the South Side. At dusk. The streets were deserted, windows barred like vacant eyes. This wasn't just a bad neighborhood; this was enemy territory.

"Reginald, this area is—"

"I'm sorry, it's an emergency." He was already out of the car. "The driver will be here any minute."

Thump.

The car door closed. The engine roared and faded away.

Leaving me alone on an empty street.

The wind was cold. It made my wounds ache.

I waited for thirty minutes. No driver came.

I took out my phone. No signal. I laughed at myself.

I was just glad I was leaving soon. I wouldn't have to put up with this anymore.

It took me almost two hours to walk back. Thankfully, I didn't run into any trouble.

It was ten o'clock by the time I got back to the manor.

The living room was quiet. Looked like no one was home.

I started for the stairs but heard voices coming from the study.

Reginald's voice.

"Felicia, why did you lie? There were no rival families at the docks. Why did you make me go there?"

Felicia burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Reginald, you've changed." Her voice was full of hurt. "Ever since Rosabella came back, you don't care about me anymore."

"Felicia, she's my wife. I have to love and protect her..."

"But you used to love me!" Felicia cried harder. "You only went after her because of our bet, to protect me! Have you forgotten?!"

A bomb went off in my head.

My mind went completely blank.

I froze, unable to believe what I just heard.

Rosabella's POV

A bet? What bet?

My hand gripped the doorframe, my knuckles white.

In the study, Reginald was silent for a long time.

"That's all in the past," he finally said, his voice quiet.

"The past?" Felicia's voice cracked. "Reginald, how can you say that?"

Suddenly, she launched herself at him.

I watched her stand on her toes and press her lips to his.

My heart stopped beating. Reginald took a step back.

"Felicia, don't."

"Why not?" She clung to him. "Back then, I said I liked the Moretti heir. You got jealous. You made a bet with me—"

"Enough."

"You bet me," she purred, her voice laced with venomous triumph. "You said if you could make the untouchable Rosabella Rossi fall in love with you, I would be yours for a night. And you won! You made her fall."

"We got together after that. The bet was off," Reginald said calmly. "Felicia, you don't have to—"

"It was off?" she cut him off. "What about now?"

She kissed him again.

This time, Reginald didn't pull away.

For a terrible, stretched-out second, he was still. Then, I watched in horror as he closed his eyes and his mouth met hers. He didn't just accept the kiss. He returned it.

It felt like an eternity. Long enough for the last ember of hope in my chest to turn to ash.

I turned and walked away. The two in the study never even noticed.

They were lost in each other's arms.

Just like three years ago.

I drove. The engine of my Maserati was a scream in the night, matching the one trapped in my own throat. I was heading back to the Rossi estate. Not for a fight. Just to retrieve the last pieces of a girl who no longer existed.

An hour later, I was standing at the gates of my childhood home.

The guards recognized me.

"Miss Rosabella? It's so late, are you—"

"I'm here to get something."

They didn't stop me.

I was still a Rossi, after all.

At least in name.

I went straight to the second floor.

I pushed open the door to my old room.

And I froze.

It wasn't my room anymore.

The walls were covered in oil paintings, all of them Felicia's.

A painter's easel and palette stood in the corner.

My bed was gone, replaced by a marble sculpting stand.

It was Felicia's art studio now.

All my childhood memories. Erased.

I searched the room and finally found my things in a cardboard box.

The hand-knit scarf from my grandmother, my old camera, some photos.

All of it just tossed in a corner, covered in dust.

I carefully picked up my grandmother's scarf.

She made it for me right before she died, with beautiful, embroidered flowers.

Now it was crumpled and creased.

"Still holding on to old things, I see."

I turned. My father was standing in the doorway.

"Why are you still keeping all this junk?"

Junk?

These were the only good memories I had left.

"I came to get my things," I said calmly.

"Your things?" Magnus scoffed. "Rosabella, this isn't your room anymore. Felicia needed a studio, so I gave it to her."

"I know."

I continued packing my grandmother's things.

Once I was done, I carried the box downstairs.

Magnus was in the living room, talking with a few of his men.

They stopped when they saw me.

"Rosabella." Magnus looked at the box in my arms. "You're taking that with you?"

"Yes."

"Good." Magnus gave a curt nod. "It's for the best. For the family. Let Reginald go. Give him to Felicia. She has the temperament to be a proper Donna."

Give him to Felicia?

I looked at this man.

The man who was supposed to love and protect me.

"If I am your daughter, why do you always make me give way to Felicia?" My voice was quiet. "My whole life, in every fight, you always took her side."

"Rosabella—"

Magnus opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The room was silent.

His men all looked at the floor, not daring to speak.

"Answer me," my voice was dangerously quiet. "Am I even your blood?"

The question struck him like a physical blow. His face went dark, a mask of pure fury.

"I wish to God I'd never had you!" he finally bellowed.

The words hit me like a slap across the face.

My fingers stroked the soft wool of my grandmother's scarf.

It reminded me of her warm hugs when I was a child.

The only warmth I'd ever known.

And now that was gone, too.

"Fine," I said softly, my voice so calm it surprised even me. "I'll leave. You can pretend you never had a daughter."

Rosabella's POV

I mailed my "treasures" away. When I got back to the manor, I heard Leo's voice.

I looked out and saw him playing near the stables.

No, he was on top of the stables.

That roof was at least ten feet high.

"Leo!" I yelled. "Get down from there!"

He heard me and turned to wave.

In that instant, a roof tile under his foot came loose.

"Ah!"

Leo fell.

I didn't think. I flew out of my room and down the stairs.

I sprinted out of the manor and toward the stables.

Leo was falling through the air.

I opened my arms and caught him.

THUD!

The impact slammed me onto the ground.

A tearing pain shot through my lower back.

My old injury from prison.

"Ow..." I grit my teeth, but held the child in my arms tight. "Leo, are you okay?"

"I... I'm okay." Leo climbed out of my arms and looked down at me. "But you... you're bleeding."

I looked down. My knees and elbows were scraped raw.

But I didn't care. Leo was safe.

"Why did you save me?" Leo knelt beside me carefully, his voice small. "Aren't you the bad woman?"

Bad woman.

A three-year-old, taught to think like that.

"Leo." I pushed myself up. "Let me ask you something. Do you think a mother would ever hurt her own child?"

"No." Leo shook his head.

"Then would I ever hurt you?"

Leo looked at me, his eyes full of confusion.

"Are... are you really my mama?" his voice cracked.

"Yes." I reached out to touch his face. "I'm your mama."

Leo didn't pull away. Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" He threw himself into my arms. "I'm sorry, Mama! I lied!"

"It's okay, baby." I held him, a storm of emotions inside me.

This was the first time I had ever truly held my son. In three years.

The baby I held in the hospital now hurt me over and over, but I still craved this hug.

But his next words made me freeze.

"Mama," Leo whispered into my shoulder. "Can you... can you leave Daddy?"

"What?"

"Felicia-Mama said she really likes Daddy." Leo looked up, tears still on his cheeks. "And if Daddy doesn't marry her, she'll be very sad."

"What else?"

"She said... she said it's my fault Daddy isn't happy." Leo's voice was a choked whisper. "And that if you leave, Mama... then Daddy will finally be happy with her."

My whole body went rigid.

Felicia had said that to a three-year-old child.

Made him carry the weight of adult mistakes. Made him think he was worthless.

"Leo." I stroked his face. "You are not worthless. You are my most precious treasure."

"Really?"

"Really." I kissed his forehead. "And Mama promises you."

That afternoon, I drove Leo to Reginald's office.

The Falcone Group tower was a forty-story skyscraper in the heart of Chicago.

We took the elevator to the top floor.

The door to Reginald's office was open. He was on a call.

He hung up the second he saw us.

"Rosabella? What are you doing here?" He frowned when he saw the bandages on my arm. "You're hurt?"

"It's nothing." I pushed Leo toward him. "Leo wanted to see you."

"Daddy!" Leo ran into Reginald's arms.

"My little prince." Reginald picked him up. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah! Mama played with me!"

Reginald looked at me, his eyes full of something complicated.

"Rosabella—"

"Reginald!"

The door burst open and Felicia ran in.

She was in a white dress, her hair a mess, her eyes red and swollen.

"Felicia?" Reginald frowned. "What are you—"

"It's a disaster!" Felicia ran to Reginald, crying. "They got pictures of us!"

"What?"

Felicia held out her phone, a news site open on the screen.

The headline screamed from the screen in huge, bold letters:

FALCONE DON'S DIRTY LITTLE SECRET? CAUGHT IN MONACO WITH MYSTERY MISTRESS!

The picture was of Reginald and Felicia on a beach.

They were in swimsuits, Felicia leaning against Reginald's chest.

They looked like a couple in love.

"The media is calling me the 'family mistress'!" Felicia cried harder. "They're saying I ruined your marriage!"

Reginald's face went dark.

"These damn reporters—"

"Reginald, you have to save me!" Felicia grabbed his arm. "My reputation is ruined!"

She turned to me, a flash of triumph in her eyes, quickly hidden by tears.

"Sister, please!" Felicia sank to her knees before me, a perfect picture of desperation. "You have to help me! Tell them it's not what it looks like! Tell them your marriage was already over!"

She grabbed my hand, her voice trembling.

"You don't want Leo to have the stigma of being an illegitimate son, do you? It would ruin his position in the family!"