When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Ronan Gallagher, the heir to Boston's Gallagher crime family, brought home the woman he loved—Viola Ricci, who was also seven months pregnant.

To make his relationship with Viola official, he publicly declared at a charity gala that we had been separated for years. He then tricked me—blind at the time—into signing away ownership of the family's docks. He didn't know my sight had already returned.

When Viola and I both fell down the stairs and Ronan, without a moment's hesitation, chose to save her, my heart didn't just break. It shattered.

I buried my love for him right alongside our unborn daughter.

It wasn't until I was well and truly gone that Ronan finally began to panic.

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1

"Miss Callahan, the examination is complete," Dr. Sean Murphy said, his expression serious. "You've always been fragile, and this was a difficult pregnancy to begin with. These last two months are crucial."

"You'll need to be exceptionally careful, or you could lose the baby."

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Murphy."

I lowered my head, my gaze falling to my swollen belly as a hollow ache settled in my chest.

"Oh? Miss Callahan, your sight... has it returned?"

Sean noticed my focused gaze, and a look of genuine happiness spread across his face.

"Yes. It started coming back around the time of my last prenatal checkup. The doctor thinks it might be the pregnancy hormones."

"This is wonderful news! Mr. Gallagher will be overjoyed. Why didn't he accompany you today?"

I hadn't told Ronan. A part of me wasn't even sure he'd want to hear the news.

I offered a faint, tight smile. "He's busy."

He was with the woman he truly loved—Viola Ricci. Of course he had no time for my checkups.

I unfolded the white cane in my hand, a now-familiar prop, and walked out of Sean's office. As I crossed the hospital lobby, Ronan's face filled the large television screen. He was giving an interview.

"Let me be clear. The child Viola is carrying is not fatherless."

"She is carrying my child. Our two families will forge a new alliance."

The host leaned in, intrigued. "But, Mr. Gallagher, aren't you still legally married to Cora Callahan?"

"Yes, but that marriage is over in all but name. I will soon give Viola her rightful place by my side."

"Congratulations to you both. May the alliance between the Gallagher and Ricci families be unbreakable."

Ronan and Viola leaned into each other, offering a practiced, coordinated smile for the camera.

"Thank you," they said in unison.

I lifted my head, my eyes locking onto the screen.

Ronan held Viola protectively, his arm a shield around her.

Bitterness stung my eyes.

"Ronan is so devoted! To think he'd turn his back on the Callahan family for Viola."

"I heard he never loved Cora. He's never once brought her to a public event. They've been married for five years, and the second Viola returns, he's ready to dump his blind wife. Honestly, her situation is just heartbreaking."

"I heard Viola got pregnant after being kidnapped by a rival family overseas. Is that true?"

"That's got to be a rumor. But even if it were true, a man who truly loves her wouldn't care."

"He would only feel sorry for her. Haven't you seen the way Ronan looks at her?"

"If I were Cora, I would have left him ages ago."

The flickering images on the screen stung my eyes. The chatter from the people around me was a chorus of daggers, each one stabbing into my heart.

I stood motionless, watching, listening, as silent tears slid down my cheeks.

A few days ago, Ronan had brought Viola home.

She was also seven months pregnant, her belly as round as mine.

Viola had returned after surviving an assault by a rival family overseas, pregnant with a child whose father she claimed was unknown. To shield her from the shame, Ronan had publicly claimed the child as his own.

I was fighting with everything I had to bring our daughter into this world, and he was out there telling everyone our alliance was finished.

I had given him fifteen years of my life, five of them as his wife. All for nothing. If he was so desperate for this to end, then I would grant him his wish.

I returned to the manor in a daze, my feet feeling disconnected from the ground. The moment I stepped through the door, the maids' whispers died.

"Quiet down, the Madam is back. Quick, turn off the TV."

"What a tragedy. Thank goodness she can't see."

"This would absolutely crush her."

"Welcome home, Madam."

A maid moved to help me, but I didn't respond. I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the now-dark television screen as the world seemed to slow to a crawl.

I had lost my sight saving Ronan. My heart had been his since I was ten years old, even though his eyes had only ever been for Viola.

Five years ago, Viola and her family left Boston. A heartbroken Ronan had drowned himself in alcohol and violence.

One day, at a chaotic shootout, he was nearly struck by flying shrapnel. I had rushed forward and shoved him out of the way. He was unharmed, but the shrapnel had severed my optic nerves.

In the aftermath, Ronan was forced to marry me.

My parents had confronted him. "Cora has loved you for fifteen years. Now she's blind for you. You will marry her."

Don Gallagher, his father, had also issued an ultimatum.

"Marry Cora, or you can forget about your position as heir!"

In the end, he relented.

After the wedding, Ronan played the part of a husband. At first, he was distant, his care clinical and detached. But over time, he began picking out gifts for me on holidays. Our long, uneasy silences slowly transformed into nights spent talking until dawn.

Just as I thought things were finally turning a corner, his mother, Madre Moira Gallagher, desperate for an heir, orchestrated a weekend where we were locked away together at the country villa.

That night, I conceived our child. But Ronan was convinced I had manipulated him, and from that moment on, he grew cold and distant.

A few days ago, I had woken to a miracle. The world had returned to me in a rush of shapes, light, and color.

Overjoyed, I rushed to the hospital.

The doctor confirmed it: my sight had likely returned due to a surge in pregnancy hormones. I couldn't wait to tell Ronan.

But when I returned to the manor, my heart full of hope, I found Viola sitting on our sofa.

Ronan was beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders, his voice a low, tender murmur. "Drink slowly."

He had never spoken to me with such tenderness.

It had only been five days, but it was as if the blind wife he'd left behind was a distant memory. Viola had already reclaimed his heart.

"Are you tired from the interview?"

"Just a little," Viola murmured, leaning against his chest. "I'm not used to sitting for so long."

I stood in the middle of the grand foyer, an invisible ghost in my own home.

Noticing a scent from the kitchen, Ronan asked, "Fiona, what's that simmering?"

"It's a restorative broth Madre Moira sent over. She said it was for Miss Cora's health," the housekeeper, Fiona O'Malley, replied.

"Bring it to Viola," Ronan commanded.

"But Madre Moira specifically prepared it for Miss Cora. There's only one portion!" Fiona protested.

"I said, give it to Viola. Are you deaf? She's weak, and the baby is small. She needs the nutrients."

He shot a cold glance in my direction. "Cora barely eats anyway and just lets it go to waste. From now on, anything my mother sends goes directly to Viola."

My body trembled, my fists clenching at my sides.

I could barely keep anything down. Since the start of my pregnancy, relentless morning sickness had me wasting away. While other women gained weight, I had lost nearly five pounds.

Moira had noticed and sent the broth out of concern. But in Ronan's eyes, I was just letting it go to waste.

"I don't think this is right, Ronan. After all, Madre Moira sent it for Cora," Viola said, her voice a study in false sweetness.

Ronan squeezed her hand reassuringly, his voice softening. "It's fine. You'll be my mother's daughter-in-law soon enough. What is there to be afraid of?"

"Besides..." he lifted his head, his gaze flicking toward me, "Cora won't mind."

"Thank you, Ronan. You're always so good to me," Viola cooed, tilting her face to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

They thought I was an audience of one, blind to their performance. But I saw everything.

"Yes," I said, my voice steady. "I don't mind. Please, help yourself, Miss Ricci."

I averted my gaze and started for the stairs. I had only taken a few steps when Viola's voice, sharp and calculating, followed me.

"So, when are you going to have Cora sign the dock transfer agreement?"

"Soon. Don't worry," Ronan promised. "I'll get her signature. I swear, I'll make things right by you."

I froze, my hand on the banister. My heart hammered against my ribs, the pain a sharp, physical sting. I had placed my entire heart in his hands, only for him to crush it for another woman.

The chasm of my disappointment in him was bottomless.

That night, Ronan and I lay in bed, our backs to each other. The silence between us was a taut, suffocating thing. My belly had grown so large that I was often short of breath.

I shifted uncomfortably, about to ask him to pass me a pillow. But when I turned, I saw him propped against the headboard, the phone's glow illuminating his smiling face as his thumbs moved quickly over the screen, texting Viola on WhatsApp.

They were laughing about something. The sight of his smile was a deep, twisting wound in my gut.

I didn't know what they were discussing, only that Ronan suddenly looked up and glanced in my direction.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep. A moment later, I heard the bed creak as he slipped out.

He thought I was blind. He thought I couldn't see a thing. It was the only reason he dared to be so brazen.

After he left the room, I rose and followed him.

Viola's bedroom door was slightly ajar.

I stood outside, a silent observer. Inside, Ronan was gently massaging Viola's swollen calves, his focus absolute.

As he worked, Viola suddenly sat up and pulled his face to hers, kissing him deeply.

Ronan caught her hand, his breath catching. "Viola, don't. You're pregnant."

"It's fine, Ronan. The doctor said it's safe in the third trimester, as long as we're careful."

She let a strap of her nightgown slide from her shoulder. "Don't you want me, Ronan? For five years, I was gone, and I thought of you every single day. I ached for you."

"If I hadn't left to protect my family, I never would have been—" Viola's voice broke, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek.

Ronan leaned down and wiped the tear away with a kiss, his gaze full of pity and tenderness.

"That's enough, Viola. I'm sorry. Don't worry. I'll make it all up to you."

A spark ignited between them, and they surrendered to it completely, their bodies tangling on the bed.

I stood frozen at the door, one hand clamped over my mouth as hot tears streamed through my fingers.

The man I had loved for fifteen years, my husband of five, was in bed with another woman—another pregnant woman—while I carried his child just down the hall.

I shook my head, backing away in disbelief.

My shoulder bumped into a decorative suit of armor in the hallway. The dull thud echoed in the quiet hall, and Ronan froze on the bed.

"What was that?"

"What are you afraid of? You think it's Cora?" Viola scoffed.

"Have you forgotten she's blind? Even if she walked all the way here, she wouldn't know what we're doing!"

Ronan's voice trailed off. He nodded, but his gaze drifted toward the doorway, where the darkness seemed to thicken. A ripple of unease tightened in his chest.

Cora couldn't see, but she could hear. What if she'd heard them? Would she fall apart?

"Ronan, what are you thinking about?" Viola turned his face toward hers, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Is it Cora? You're not allowed to think about her."

She reached up and kissed him again.

God, why was he even thinking about Cora? It was her fault. If she hadn't tricked him into her bed that night, she wouldn't be carrying his child at all.

I don't remember how I got back to my room.

Waves of pain cramped my abdomen. I fumbled for the medication my doctor had prescribed, and after I swallowed a pill, the ache began to subside.

My mind was made up. As soon as this child was born, I would leave him.

All I wanted was to give birth safely. Then, I would end this sham of a marriage and walk away with my child.

The next morning, I went downstairs for breakfast.

Fiona quietly placed my portion of the restorative broth at Viola's seat. In front of me, she set a bowl of plain, clear soup.

They all thought I wouldn't know. A blind woman couldn't see, so they assumed I'd be too oblivious to tell the difference by taste.

I said nothing, silently taking a few bites before setting down my spoon.

"Good morning, Cora. You're up early."

Viola descended the stairs, taking a seat beside me. Her voice was a purr, laced with a barbed, teasing quality.

"Unlike you, I can't handle mornings like this. I was so worn out last night that my whole body felt like it was falling apart."

My gaze fell to Viola's neck, which was littered with the dark marks of his kisses.

They screamed of the passion she and Ronan had shared.