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!"

Rosabella's POV

"Impossible." Reginald rejected Felicia's idea without a second thought. "I will not let the world think Rosabella did anything wrong."

Felicia froze, a flicker of rage in her eyes.

But I had already pulled out my phone and dialed our family lawyer.

"Marcus, I need you to release a statement immediately." My voice was calm. "Announce that the marriage between Reginald Falcone and myself is null and void, effective today."

"What?" Reginald spun to face me. "Rosabella, what are you doing?"

"Solving the problem," I continued to the lawyer. "Send it to all media outlets within the hour."

"Rosabella!" Reginald tried to grab my phone.

But I had already hung up.

"It's the best solution," I said, looking at him. "Isn't it?"

Reginald's face turned to stone.

"I didn't agree to—"

Felicia was secretly gloating, but on the surface, she was still dabbing at her tears.

"Thank you, sister! You're so good to me!"

"Let's go." I picked up Leo. "It's time to go home."

Reginald followed us, his face grim. The elevator ride down was thick with tension.

"Mama," Leo whispered in my arms. "Are you going to leave?"

"Yes."

"Can... can I come find you?"

I didn't answer.

Because I didn't know the answer.

The elevator doors opened, and we walked out of the Falcone Group tower.

The Chicago evening was beautiful. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and red.

Just then, a motorcycle sped toward us from down the street.

The engine screamed. It was moving fast.

My gut told me something was wrong.

"Watch out!"

I clutched Leo, trying to get out of the way.

But it was too late. The rider raised a silenced pistol.

Three silenced pops. Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

In a single, fluid motion—an instinct I'd seen a hundred times—Reginald moved. He didn't shield me. He threw himself in front of Felicia and Leo.

His body became their wall.

And a bullet tore a line of fire across my shoulder.

Reginald's arm was hit, too. Blood bloomed on his sleeve.

My left shoulder also took a hit, blood soaking my dress.

But Felicia was completely untouched. Reginald had protected her perfectly.

The motorcycle vanished into traffic, leaving me gritting my teeth in pain, and Reginald, his face a mask of fury.

"Rosabella!" Reginald turned to check my wounds. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth. "What about Leo?"

"I'm here, Mama." Leo was hiding in Felicia's arms, his face pale with fright.

"Quick, to the clinic," Reginald said, dialing the family's private doctor.

...

An hour later, at the family's private clinic.

The doctor was treating our wounds.

"The bullets just grazed you. No bones were hit," the doctor said. "But you'll need to rest and recover."

Reginald sat by my bed.

"I'm sorry." He took my hand. "I didn't protect you."

"You protected who you needed to," I said, my voice devoid of all emotion. "That's what matters."

Reginald's face darkened.

"Rosabella, I... a few of the New York families have been targeting us. For your safety..." He cut himself off, his tone becoming formal. "I'm sending you to the safe house in Switzerland for a while."

"You always wanted to go there, right?" he continued. "Lakes, mountains. It's a good place to recover."

I looked at him. This man could always find a noble reason for his selfish decisions.

"Okay," I agreed easily.

Reginald visibly relaxed.

"You're so understanding, Rosabella." He kissed my forehead. "When you get back, our family of three can finally live a good life."

A family of three?

Didn't he mean him and Felicia?

That night, after Reginald left, I got a text.

It was from Felicia.

[Enjoy Switzerland. I hear it's a beautiful place to die. A fitting end for a fallen princess.]

[Your parents. Your son. Your man. They're all mine now. Everything you ever had belongs to me.]

So that was it. Getting me out of the way for Felicia.

I laughed coldly, deleted the message, and checked the time.

Eleven P.M. The exact day I was supposed to leave.

I got up and quietly slipped out of the clinic.

The manor was dark and silent. Everyone was asleep.

I went to my room, grabbed the bag I had already packed, and my burner phone.

It was time to go.

I took one last look at the room.

This place was once my safe harbor. Now it was just a gilded cage.

I crept downstairs, called a car, and headed for the airport.

In the rearview mirror, the lights of the manor grew smaller.

Until they disappeared completely.

At three in the morning, I boarded a one-way flight to Syria.

Below me, the lights of Chicago glittered like a web of broken glass, then vanished into the clouds.

I was flying into a warzone.

But for the first time in my life, I was finally, truly free.