Thrown off balance, I fell heavily to the floor of the club's private back room. My swollen body made even the simplest attempt to get up pitifully slow.

The room erupted into laughter at my expense, the crew of soldiers sprawled across the leather banquettes howling like the night was just getting good.

"Lorenzo, doesn't your wife look like a turtle flipped on its back?"

"A fat turtle, at that! Hahaha."

My eyes burned with unshed tears. Embarrassment surged through me, but before I could process it, a sharp pain shot through my stomach.

A warm, wet sensation spread beneath me and I looked down in alarm.

The carpet under me was soaked.

This can't be…

Panic seized me as I instinctively reached out for Lorenzo.

"Lorenzo, please take me to the clinic right now!"

"My water broke!"

The haze of liquor seemed to lift from his eyes.

He stood up in a panic and a flicker of regret crossed his expression.

"Don't be afraid, honey. I'll take you to the clinic right away."

But before he could act, Gemma's mocking voice cut through the smoke.

"I really envy Mrs. Moretti. No matter what lies she tells, Lorenzo always believes her without question."

Lorenzo shoved off Gemma's white hands wrapped around his waist, his voice cold and sharp. "Get away from me. If anything happens to my wife, it'll be on your head."

Gemma collapsed onto the sofa with exaggerated delicacy. Despite his harsh words, she persisted, her foot clad in red silk brushing against his calf flirtatiously.

"Lorenzo, don't you see? Mrs. Moretti just got overexcited and wet herself. How could her water break at only seven months? Her due date isn't even close." Her fingers drifted to the hollow of her throat, as if the cruelty of it all moved her.

Upon hearing that, every made man in the room clicked his tongue and shook his head with disgust.

"I've heard pregnant women have incontinence. So that's what it looks like."

"She can't even control her own water. No wonder Lorenzo found someone else."

Lorenzo, who had just reached for me, froze. His initial panic gave way to a sigh of relief.

The pity in his eyes turned to anger, then disgust. Without a word, he grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it at me.

"Whether it's disgusting or not, you'll stoop to any low just to win favor!"

"No, I'm really going into labor. My stomach... it hurts..."

Lorenzo looked down at me, writhing on the ground, his eyes cold and his voice laced with mockery.

"You're quite the actress. If it weren't for Gemma snapping me out of it, I might have actually fallen for your tricks." He turned the heavy gold signet on his pinky and laughed, a half-beat too loud, the way he always did when the men were watching.

Gemma's face lit up with glee. She threw herself into Lorenzo's arms, her tone sickeningly sweet as she cooed, "Hmph... I'm your clever, sweet personal assistant, after all."

My voice trembled as waves of pain coursed through me.

"Help me... the baby... save the baby... please, someone call the clinic!"

Vince scoffed, cracking the knuckles of one hand slow against his palm. "Lorenzo, your wife is willing to do anything, even make such a mess. All this drama is just a waste of good doctors."

Gemma chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. "Mrs. Moretti, if word gets out that the wife of Lorenzo Moretti wet herself in front of the whole crew, do you think Lorenzo will still have his standing? You're so inconsiderate."

The suffocating smell of cigarette smoke in the room mixed with the ache in my heart.

I realized, bitterly, that there was no one in this room bound to me by anything that would save me.

Ignoring the excruciating pain in my stomach, I gritted my teeth and crawled toward my handbag, lying just out of reach. My phone was inside, and I would save myself.

Their laughter followed me, cruel and unrelenting.

"Lorenzo, your wife should be on a stage somewhere. Her acting is on point!"

"Yeah, Lorenzo, go on and coax her. How can we enjoy ourselves if she keeps putting on this peeing act?"

Sweat drenched my body and strands of damp hair clung to my forehead.

Ignoring the ridicule of these scumbags, I finally grasped the phone in my bag.

But the moment I tried to press the dial with trembling hands, Lorenzo stepped on my hand and kicked the phone out of reach.

"That's enough! Are you insane? You really think you can pull a doctor across the city over this nonsense, especially on a holy night like this?"

The pain was unbearable and I could not straighten my back, curling up on the marble floor of the club's private room instead.

"I'm really going to give birth. The baby's only seven months old, it's very dangerous. This is your baby too. Please, let me go to the clinic..."

An intense pain surged through my stomach. I was not sure if the fall had harmed the baby.

For the sake of the child in my belly, I swallowed my pride, reached out, grabbed the leg of his tailored trousers and begged in desperation.

"Give me your phone. I'll call for the car myself. Please..."

"This is your own flesh and blood."

Lorenzo kicked me aside and sneered at the carpet soaked in amniotic fluid with disgust, twisting the heavy gold signet ring on his pinky.

The pain drained all my strength, leaving me collapsed on the floor like a lifeless animal.

Lorenzo crouched down, pinching my neck. His voice was colder than ever.

"Why are you pretending? You're so addicted to acting. If I don't teach you a lesson today, you'll think you can sit on my head and piss on me forever."

"Put her in the toilet," he ordered.

"Get two of the boys to clean the carpet. It's disgusting to look at."

Two of his lowest soldiers seized my arms and dragged me toward one of the toilets off the private room. The music outside swallowed the sound.

I screamed for help, my voice weak. "Call the clinic, please, someone call for the car..."

The young hostess who had been pouring the drinks looked concerned and spoke softly.

"Mr. Moretti, she really doesn't look well. Maybe we should just let her go, no? She's pregnant, after all."

Vince grabbed the girl's hair and slapped her across the face, cracking the knuckles of his free hand against his palm. "What's it to you? Who are you to question what a made man decides?"

The girl did not dare to argue, offering only a nervous smile.

Several of the older comares laughed at her.

"Sis, you're still too green. These are the tricks that wives use to keep a man on a leash. Believe me, if Mr. Moretti sends her home, she'll be fine in no time."

Gemma was full of herself, pretending to offer advice. "Mrs. Moretti, Lorenzo is doing this for your own good. He just wants you to stay in the toilet and clean up so you don't shame him in front of the crew."

She twisted her graceful waist and settled back onto Lorenzo's lap, turning to look at me. With a silent smirk, she touched the hollow of her throat as if overcome, then flaunted her victory.

"You lose."

Outside the door, there was music and laughter while I was left behind, isolated and defeated.

I sat on the cold tile, my back against the wall and slapped the door with all the strength I could muster.

"Help…"

The door closed and my small cry was abruptly silenced.

Pain coursed through my body like a thousand iron nails driven in. I thought of the lessons from the pregnancy classes.

The contractions were coming faster now. I focused on my breathing, trying to keep calm and deliver the baby on my own.

Calm down, Serafina Vitale, you can do this.

Your baby needs you.

Tears mixed with sweat as I screamed, almost losing my voice.

The lower part of my abdomen felt as though it was being torn apart. The air was thick with the smell of blood, sharper than gunpowder, closing in around me like the Omertà that no one in that room would break for me.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but the pain only worsened each second.

It hurt so much... the baby could not come out.

Panic set in, my heart racing. I gritted my teeth and felt the blood pooling beneath me on the cold tile.

With trembling hands, I scrawled on the frosted glass of the toilet door.

[SOS]

I slapped bloody handprints onto the door, desperate for anyone outside to notice.

A soldier who had just stepped out of the adjacent toilet froze in shock and shouted loudly.

"Lorenzo, something feels so wrong!"

"There's blood on the toilet door. Your wife might really be giving birth!"

When I heard someone finally recognize the danger, a glimmer of hope sparked within me.

My baby, please hold on.

Lorenzo, drunk and indifferent, laughed a half-beat too loud and sneered.

"What's with the blood? She must've snuck in a bottle of red. How could a seven-month baby come now? She's just acting."

The man hesitated, fear creeping into his voice as he tried again to persuade.

"Lorenzo, why don't you open the door and take a look first? Don't be afraid of the worst, but be cautious about what might happen."

Lorenzo remained indifferent and Gemma cooed softly from his arms. "Serafina has pulled this before, demanding Lorenzo throw me out of the crew. You don't know her. She's just sore because Lorenzo didn't spend the Family's night with her, and now she's causing trouble."

The man outside the door fell silent, no longer insisting. In this world a soldier did not push past a made man's word twice. My hope flickered, then began to fade.

The sharp pain in my stomach snapped me back to reality.

No. I can't give up.

My dear, Mommy will save you.

With trembling hands, I removed my coat and scrawled a message for help on it with my bloodied fingers.

Summoning every ounce of strength, I struggled to climb onto the toilet, pushed open the small ventilation window above and attempted to throw my coat out into the alley.

But the agony made it impossible to straighten my back. My clothes got stuck.

I bit my lip, fighting back tears and finally managed to throw the coat out.

Just then, the sole of my foot slipped and I fell backward with a loud sound.

Bang! The noise jolted the people outside.

My vision blurred and I faintly heard Lorenzo's voice.

"Serafina..."