Aria’s POV

Dominic answered before the second ring finished.

“Aria,” he said, his voice smooth and edged with ice. “This is unexpected.”

Even through the phone, the weight of him pressed against my chest. Dominic Russo didn’t speak often, and when he did, men twice his size chose their responses carefully.

I swallowed. “I need Enzo destroyed. And I can’t do it alone.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy and deliberate. Then he gave a low, amused laugh that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” he murmured. “Go on. Tell me everything.”

So I did. I told him about the photos at the cemetery, about Camilla installing herself in the master suite, about Enzo’s threats and his promise to burn down my father’s orphanage if I tried to leave. I spoke without crying this time. My voice was steady, almost detached, as if I were recounting someone else’s humiliation.

Dominic did not interrupt once.

When I finished, he asked only one thing. “How quickly do you want him buried?”

“Yesterday,” I replied.

That drew a genuine chuckle from him. “Good. I prefer urgency. Enzo won’t see it coming.”

For the first time since my father’s funeral, something like hope stirred in my chest.

“I’ll start moving pieces tonight,” he continued. “You’ll hear from me when it’s time.”

He paused, and the shift in his tone made my stomach tighten.

“There’s one requirement.”

I closed my eyes briefly. Nothing in Dominic’s world came without a price. “What do you want?”

“Marry me.”

The words landed with quiet force.

I couldn’t speak.

~

Sleep never came that night. I lay awake in the guest room, staring at the ceiling while Dominic’s proposal replayed in my mind. He hadn’t demanded an immediate answer; he’d told me to think carefully and call him when I was ready. The moment I agreed, he promised, he would come for me personally.

Protection. Power. Revenge.

But marriage to Dominic Russo was not a simple alliance. It meant stepping fully into the darker side of the empire, into a world even Enzo handled cautiously.

What would I be trading?

By morning, I had no clarity—only exhaustion.

And then everything shifted.

I was alone in the bathroom when I stared at the thin white stick in my trembling hands. Two clear lines.

Positive.

For a long moment I felt nothing. Then a broken laugh escaped me as tears blurred my vision.

Pregnant.

After years of doctors, whispered diagnoses, and Enzo’s thinly veiled resentment, after enduring the word barren thrown at me like a curse, I was finally carrying a child.

And it was too late.

Enzo had already shown me exactly who he was.

I pressed the medical report against my chest, my heart pounding painfully. If he found out, he would claim this child as his legacy, as leverage. He would never let me go.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Dominic.

Everything is arranged. Three days. Decide.

Three days.

I stared at the words while my thoughts spiraled. I could not drag an innocent child into a house filled with lies and calculated cruelty. Growing up under Enzo’s shadow would mean manipulation, power games, and blood-soaked expectations.

What kind of mother would I be if I chose that?

My vision swam as I dialed the hospital.

“Preston Medical Center, how may we help you?” a receptionist answered pleasantly.

My throat tightened. “I need to schedule a termination,” I said quietly.

There was no judgment in the reply. “We have an opening tomorrow morning. Will that work?”

The sooner, the better.

“Yes,” I managed.

When the call ended, an emptiness settled inside me. I was about to erase the one miracle I had prayed for years to receive.

My mind drifted back to the accident six years earlier.

Enzo had been furious about a failed shipment deal. He’d been drinking heavily, pacing the penthouse, cursing rival families. I had begged him to let the driver take us home. He insisted on handling the wheel himself.

I still remembered the headlights appearing out of nowhere. The screech of tires. The violent impact. The metallic taste of blood in my mouth before everything went black.

I woke in a hospital bed two days later to a doctor explaining, with rehearsed sympathy, that the internal damage was severe. Conceiving naturally would be nearly impossible.

I had sobbed until my body ached. Enzo had stayed by my side then, stroking my hair, whispering apologies, promising he would never leave me, that we would find another way.

He had looked at me as if I were irreplaceable.

I had believed him.

Love had made me blind.

“Well, this is a depressing sight.”

Camilla’s voice snapped me back to the present.

I stiffened. “I don’t have the patience for you.”

She entered the living room like a queen inspecting her territory, her hand resting theatrically on her stomach.

“You look exhausted,” she observed with a smirk. “Is married life stressful?”

I gripped the edge of the table to keep from reacting. “What do you want?”

She shrugged lightly. “Can’t a sister check in?”

“After sleeping with her sister’s husband? No.”

She laughed, soft and taunting. “Enzo was bored. You were always so… restrained. He needed excitement.”

I refused to give her the satisfaction of anger, though it burned in my veins.

“You should have seen him,” she added sweetly. “He couldn’t get enough.”

Her smile faltered slightly when I remained silent.

The sound of a car engine cut through the tension. Enzo was home.

I stood immediately.

Camilla tilted her head. “Not staying to greet him?”

I walked past her without answering and retreated to the guest room, locking the door behind me. My body felt heavy, my chest tight. Just three more days, I reminded myself. Three more days and everything would change.

I had just closed my eyes when the door slammed open with a violent crash.

Enzo strode in, fury radiating from him.

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded, startled.

He didn’t respond.

His hand struck my face so hard that my vision flashed white.

The room fell silent except for the sharp ringing in my ears.

Aria's POV

The impact of his hand sent me crashing sideways.

My head snapped to the side, and before I understood what had happened, the world tilted violently. I hit the marble floor hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. A sharp cry escaped me, more from shock than pain, and for a brief second my vision dissolved into darkness.

When the blackness cleared, pain bloomed across my cheek in a hot, throbbing wave. I lay there on the cold floor of the guest room, stunned and unable to move.

Enzo had just struck me.

In all the years of our marriage—through blood deals, turf wars, betrayals from rival families—he had never raised a hand to me. Not once.

My mind scrambled uselessly for logic. Had I said something? Done something? Nothing justified this.

I blinked hard, fighting the dizziness, and slowly pushed myself upright. My palms trembled against the polished floor as I steadied myself. When my vision sharpened, I saw Camilla standing a few feet behind Enzo.

Her arms were folded loosely across her chest, and tears streamed down her face. She looked small. Fragile.

Convincing.

“What is happening?” I managed, my voice rough and unsteady.

Enzo loomed over me, chest rising and falling with controlled fury. “You laid your hands on her?” he demanded. “On a woman carrying my child?”

The accusation made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“She came to check on you,” he continued, his voice rising. “And you attacked her? Have you completely lost your mind?”

For a moment I could only stare at him.

Camilla stepped forward hesitantly, her shoulders trembling as if she were holding herself together by sheer will. “I just wanted to bring her tea,” she said softly. “She seemed upset, and I thought maybe we could talk. But she started yelling. She said I ruined her life.” Her voice cracked convincingly. “Then she hit me.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“She told me I deserved to die,” Camilla added in a whisper, lowering her eyes. “I didn’t want to say anything, Enzo, but she scared me.”

The audacity of it left me breathless.

“You’re lying,” I said quietly, still seated on the floor. “I never touched you.”

Her lower lip quivered, and she looked away as if my denial wounded her further.

Enzo didn’t hesitate.

“Get up,” he growled. “And get out of my sight before I forget you’re my wife.”

I looked up at him, my cheek burning, my lip throbbing. “You actually believe her?” I asked. “You think I would hurt her?”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—doubt, perhaps—but it vanished just as quickly.

“You’re not yourself anymore,” he said coldly. “Jealousy has twisted you.”

A hollow laugh slipped from me. “Jealousy? Of what?”

I tasted metal and realized my lip had split open. I wiped at it with the back of my hand, ignoring the sting.

Enzo’s gaze dropped briefly to the blood on my mouth. His jaw tightened, and for a moment he looked almost conflicted. He took a step toward me.

“Aria—”

“Enzo,” Camilla interrupted faintly, pressing a hand to her temple. “My head is spinning. She hit me harder than I thought.”

His attention shifted immediately.

He turned his back on me without hesitation and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him as if she were made of glass. She leaned into him, fragile and trembling.

I watched in silence.

She glanced at me over his shoulder.

There were no tears in her eyes now. Only satisfaction.

Three more days, I reminded myself.

Three days, and I would never have to see this house again.

~

The following morning, I left before the household staff stirred.

The drive to the clinic felt unreal, like I was watching someone else move through my life. My chest tightened as I sat in the waiting area, staring at nothing while the seconds crawled by.

My hand drifted to my stomach almost unconsciously.

It was still flat, unchanged, betraying nothing of what was growing inside me. But I knew.

A child.

After years of believing it was impossible, after accepting the whispers that I was broken, useless, incapable of giving a mafia dynasty an heir, life had taken root inside me.

Tears threatened again, but I forced them back. This wasn’t about emotion. It was about survival.

A nurse called my name.

I stood slowly, my legs feeling heavier than they should. She led me into a private consultation room where the doctor reviewed my file before turning around.

The moment his eyes met mine, recognition dawned.

“Mrs. Russo?” he said, startled.

He had been there six years ago, standing at the foot of my hospital bed after the accident, delivering the verdict that my body would likely never carry a child.

I offered him a faint, strained smile.

He glanced down at the chart in his hand, then back at me. “You’re certain about this?”

My throat felt tight. Words wouldn’t come.

He set the file aside and approached, his voice gentle but firm. “You need to understand how extraordinary this is. After the trauma you experienced, this pregnancy is nothing short of a miracle.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“If you go through with the procedure,” he continued carefully, “there is a very real possibility that you will never conceive again. Not even with intervention. This could be your only chance.”

The weight of his words settled over me like chains.

Only chance.

I thought of Enzo’s hand striking my face. Of Camilla standing in my bedroom, draped in my robe. Of Dominic waiting for my answer.

My life had already fractured beyond recognition.

Now I had to decide which pieces to keep.

Aria’s POV

His warning echoed in my ears long after he finished speaking.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The doctor’s words—miracle… your only chance—collided violently with everything that had happened over the past few days. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

My hand drifted instinctively to my stomach again.

I thought about the nights I had cried alone in the Russo estate, staring at the ceiling while Enzo slept beside me. I remembered the hollow ache every time another mafia wife announced her pregnancy at some formal gathering, the way I would excuse myself before anyone noticed the tears in my eyes. I remembered praying in silence for something—anything—that would fill the emptiness I carried.

And now that miracle was here.

And I had been ready to erase it because of a man who had already erased me.

The realization shattered whatever restraint I had left. Tears spilled freely as I covered my mouth, my shoulders trembling. The thought of willingly ending the only life that had chosen me felt unbearable.

“No,” I said hoarsely, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

The doctor studied me carefully. “You’ve changed your mind?”

“I’m keeping this baby,” I replied, my voice unsteady but resolute. “I don’t care if I have to do it on my own. This child isn’t a mistake. It’s the only blessing I’ve been given.”

A faint smile touched his face. “Then we’ll make sure you receive proper care. With your history, we’ll monitor you closely.”

When I stepped out of the hospital later, the air felt lighter somehow. For the first time in days, I felt something stronger than despair.

In three days, I would walk away.

And this time, I wouldn’t be alone.

“Aria!”

The sharp call of my name froze me mid-step.

Enzo.

I turned slowly, tension coiling through my body. He crossed the hospital entrance in long strides and grabbed my arm before I could speak, his fingers digging in tight.

“Thank God I caught you,” he said, breath uneven, eyes alert in a way that told me this wasn’t about reconciliation.

I pulled my arm slightly. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Camilla,” he replied quickly. “She’s been admitted.”

I blinked. “Admitted?”

“She ran a fever all night,” he said, his tone sharpening. “After what you did to her.”

My jaw tightened. “I didn’t touch her.”

He ignored that entirely. “She collapsed this morning. The doctors say she’s dehydrated and weak. They need to give her blood.”

My stomach twisted. “And?”

Enzo’s gaze locked onto mine. “Her blood type is rare. You’re a universal donor. You’re the only compatible match available immediately.”

For a second, I simply stared at him.

“You want me to donate blood to her?” I asked quietly.

“This isn’t about pride,” he snapped. “It’s about saving my child.”

He started pulling me toward the entrance.

I resisted, digging my heels into the pavement. “There are blood banks. Private reserves. You control half the city’s hospitals. Why me?”

He turned sharply, eyes hard. “Because this is happening because of you.”

The accusation stunned me. “She lied to you!”

“I don’t have time for your paranoia,” he cut in coldly. “She’s carrying my heir. If anything happens to her—”

Something inside me cracked.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He went still.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, louder now, my voice trembling despite myself. “The doctor confirmed it. It’s high risk. If I donate blood, it could endanger the baby.”

The silence stretched painfully.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t disbelief. It was contempt.

“You expect me to believe that?” he said, shaking his head slowly. “You think inventing a pregnancy is going to get you out of this?”

“I’m not lying,” I whispered, tears rising again despite my effort to stay composed. “You know what the doctors said after the accident. They called this impossible. It’s a miracle.”

His expression hardened further. “You’ve always wanted leverage. Now you think this is clever.”

“Enzo—”

“Enough.” His voice dropped into something final. “You will donate. That’s not a request.”

Anger surged through me, stronger than fear this time. I pulled my arm free.

“I won’t,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I won’t risk my child for her.”

His face darkened.

“You’d let someone die because of jealousy?” he demanded.

“I won’t sacrifice my baby,” I replied firmly. “Not for Camilla. Not for you.”

The fury in his eyes burned bright.

“If you walk away from this,” he said slowly, his jaw clenched tight, “I will personally tear down that orphanage your father built. Brick by brick. And I’ll make sure you’re there to watch.”

The threat landed exactly where he intended.

The orphanage was the last living piece of my father’s legacy. The only place in this city untouched by blood money and power games.

Enzo knew that.

He leaned closer, his voice low and lethal. “Choose carefully, Aria.”

And in that moment, I realized something with absolute clarity.

I was no longer afraid of losing him.

I was afraid of what I was about to become if I stayed.