The needle went into her vein and Vivian clenched her teeth shut, eyes closed.

The warmth drained out of her with every drop.

Her vision swam and her face went bloodless. She was almost at the end of what they'd taken when one of Ethan's men burst in.

"Don,Claire says it's not enough."

A chill ran through her.

The attending doctor's voice was small.

"Don, your wife is already pale. Her lips are turning blue. Any more and she could die."

Ethan was silent for a long moment.

Then he spoke. "Vivian. Don't worry. I remember what your mother asked of me. I won't let you die."

"Doctor. Take the maximum she can offer. But she has to survive. Do it."

Vivian's face went gray.

The needle slid in again, but she didn't feel it this time.

Probably because something inside her had already died.

She woke up alone in the hospital room.

Forcing herself upright with her head still foggy, she looked around. No one. Empty water glass and the dust on the bedside table suggested no one had been here in days.

She was thirsty. She pulled herself to her feet and went looking for a nurse.

She glanced up out of habit, and her blood went cold.

Across the hall, in the room opposite hers, Claire was propped up in bed, holding a child in her arms.

And Ethan was standing beside her with a bowl of porridge, smiling, feeding the boy spoon by spoon.

Like a family. Mother, father and the baby.

And Vivian, the one across the hall, could have died in that bed and no one would have noticed for days.

Her phone buzzed. She picked up without expression.

"Mrs. Voss. In three days, your death certificate will be processed."

Vivian smiled.

"Good."

She walked back into her room and let herself collapse onto the bed.

She didn't know how long she lay there. The nurses' chatter outside drifted in clearly.

"Honestly, it's absurd. The Don is such a steady, decent man. How did he end up with her?"

"Right? She loses one baby after another. Who knows what she did to deserve that. She can't even give the man a family and she still has the nerve to sit in the Donna's seat"

"If only Claire's son were the Don's. He's so good with that kid. The three of them are the real family."

Each word pushed in like a needle.

She gave a tired, bitter little smile, and old memories rose without permission.

Years ago. The war inside the family. A traitor's gun pointed at Ethan's chest.

She had thrown herself in front of him and taken the bullet for him.

But there had been too many men coming, and they couldn't shake them.

Her mother had come out of nowhere, a plain woman in a plain car, white at the temples, a housewife who had never known anything about gangsters or guns. But the moment she heard her daughter was being hunted, she came.

The car shot like an arrow onto the mountain road and rammed itself sideways across the lane, blocking the cars chasing them.

The crash was loud enough to split the air.

Her mother died right there.

Ethan, holding her bloodied body, had sworn through red eyes that Vivian would be his only wife. The only one. Ever.

Now that promise, the one her mother bought with her life, was worth less than weeds at the side of the road.

The door pushed open.

Claire walked in, dressed soft and pretty, and waved a calm hand to silence the nurses outside.

"All right, enough. The poor thing's not well. Let her rest."

Then she turned and looked down at Vivian, pale as paper on the bed. Her voice was gentle, almost sorry.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. They're young. Don't take it personally what they talk about."

"Although they're not entirely wrong, are they? Feelings are feelings. The one a man doesn't keep in his heart is always the outsider. No matter what title she's wearing."

She paused and let out a soft little laugh.

"If your mother hadn't died, would Ethan have made you his wife? It was the debt, sweetheart. It was always the debt."

Vivian's body went rigid as something black and hot rose in her eyes.

She could swallow anything else, but she would not let this woman drag her mother through the mud.

Claire bent low, lips near Vivian's ear, her voice was cruel enough.

"And, sweetheart, did you really think that car crash was an accident? Silly girl. I just didn't like the way you clung to Ethan. I wanted to teach you a lesson. I didn't know your mother would be too fragile to die. Such a pity."

It hit like a thunderclap, and Vivian's mind went blank.

Every piece of swallowed grief, every drop of patience, every locked-down scream broke open at once. She didn't think. Her hand flew up and cracked across Claire's face.

At that exact moment, Ethan came through the door.

He saw it, and his face went dark with rage.

He was across the room in two steps. He shoved Vivian, weak and barely upright, away from Claire, hard.

"Vivian. Have you lost your mind?"

He had never used that voice on her, not once in ten years.

She'd just had blood drawn and was already shaking. The shove sent her into the bed frame, ribs slamming on metal, and pain bloomed across her chest.

She forced the tears back and looked up at him.

"Ethan, the car crash that killed my mother wasn't an accident. Claire planned it herself."

Ethan didn't hesitate even for a second.

"Don't be ridiculous. Everyone knows what happened that night. The whole family wanted me dead. I tried to send you ahead and you wouldn't leave. You stayed with me."

"If you'd just listened to me to leave before, your mother would still be alive."

"Don't put this on Claire to wriggle out of your own guilt."

Vivian's blood turned to ice.

Claire, meanwhile, was clinging to Ethan's arm, eyes shining with tears.

"No, Ethan, please don't be angry. She just can't stand that you are considerate to me like this. She wanted to scare me a little. That's all."

The disgust in Ethan's eyes deepened.

"Apologize. Now. To Claire."

Vivian's pupils shrank. She stared at Ethan as if she had never seen his face before in her life.

"You're saying—I killed my own mother?"

His jaw was set.

"Didn't you?"

"And don't forget. Her death is the only reason you got to marry me."

Right. She'd been sleepwalking through a fantasy for ten years. Time to wake up.

Her eyes were burning red, but her mouth pulled into a small, twitching smile, and her voice came out soft.

"Claire. I'm sorry I hit you."

Claire's mouth curled just slightly, then she put on a sad, sweet face.

"It's all right, sweetheart. I know you've been through a lot. Losing your mother, losing those three babies. It's just been one cruel thing after another. Maybe it's fate."

Vivian's heart felt like it was being ground into dust.

The wound that had just been inflicted by Ethan was suddenly ruptured at this moment, and blood started to seep through her gown.

She closed her eyes and swayed.

Ethan saw it. Something flickered across his face, and he almost stepped forward.

Then Claire pressed a delicate hand to her own forehead and let out a small whimper.

"Ethan, I feel so dizzy all of a sudden. I've been nauseous lately. Could it be…"

His full attention swung to her, and he caught her around the waist.

"What's wrong? Let me get you back to your room."

Claire leaned into him. Her eyes slid sideways toward Vivian on the floor.

"I don't know, maybe it was that glass of water Vivian gave me earlier. My head hasn't felt right since."

Ethan's brow tightened, and his hold on Claire turned firmer. He didn't look at Vivian once. He turned with Claire in his arms and walked out.

The room was huge and empty around her. Blood spread slowly through the fabric of her gown, and she stayed where she'd fallen.

She didn't know how long it was before she opened her eyes again.

A doctor came in, looking uncomfortable, and held out a piece of paper.

"Mrs. Voss. We can't delay any longer. If you sign this confirmation, we can release the child for cremation."

The instant her fingertips touched the page, pain rolled up her throat in a hot wave.

That was her third baby. Her child. Who hadn't even gotten a chance to open his eyes. Reduced to a part for someone else's body.

She sat there a long time, then made herself stand.

She wanted to find Ethan one last time.

She wanted to see what his face would do when she handed him a death certificate for his own son.

She walked the corridor. As she passed a supply closet, she heard sounds from behind the cracked door.

Her feet locked.

She looked through the gap, and cold cut through her like a knife.

Ethan had Claire pressed against the wall. They were tangled together.

The sounds were unmistakable.

The image burned through her eyes, but her face stayed empty.

So she had been a fool to hope for even a flicker of guilt from him.

She turned around without a sound, gripped the death certificate, and walked out alone.

She went to the funeral home herself. She buried her three babies herself. She was the only one there.

It was late by the time Ethan came back to the room, with the strong smell of Claire’s perfume.

She watched him from the bed. Her voice was flat.

"Yesterday was our son's cremation. Did you sleep well with Claire?"

Ethan's face stiffened, and something uncomfortable passed across it.

"Don't be paranoid. Claire wasn't feeling well. It looked like she'd been drugged."

"She's my brother's widow. She's important to this family. Of course I have a duty to protect her."

Vivian let out a soft, dry laugh.

"This is a hospital. If she'd actually been drugged, you'd better call a doctor, rather than sleep with her."

Her words left Ethan speechless for a moment.

His face darkened and his tone turned icy.

"Enough, Vivian. Don't push it."

"Do I have to spell it out? Claire drank from a glass you gave her. That's why she's sick."

"I'm warning you. If I catch you pulling something like that again, I will not let it slide."

He turned and walked out.

She lay there alone, staring at the white ceiling.

She was so tired in her whole body. She closed her eyes.

It was almost over. Just a little longer.

She had barely drifted off when a bucket of ice water crashed down on her.

She bolted upright, soaked and shaking.

Ethan stood at the foot of her bed, his face black with rage.

"You thought drugging her was the end of it. But no, you actually went to the Reeds. You sold her out to my enemies. They took her."

"Vivian, I underestimated you!"

A line of black sedans tore through the city in the dead of night.

Vivian was crammed into the passenger seat, and Ethan's grip on her wrist was crushing.

She had explained, God, how many times had she explained, that she had nothing to do with Claire being taken and had nothing to do with the Reeds.

She talked until her voice gave out. Ethan didn't look at her once. Finally he spoke, cold and flat.

"Stop wasting your breath. Who else could it be? You found out Claire's carrying my child, so you arranged this."

Carrying his child.

Those words split Vivian open.

He had killed her babies without flinching, and turned around and made one with Claire.

The car screeched into a chaotic side alley, with dust rising and voices shouting.

Claire was huddled in a corner with her clothes torn and mascara streaked down her face, surrounded by a circle of rough-looking men.

The Reeds. The family the Vosses had been at war with for generations.

The Reeds had cold eyes and wooden clubs.

Ethan got out of the car, and every part of him radiated authority, the kind that didn't need to be announced.

"You stoop low enough to grab a woman? Pathetic."

The man in front spat and grinned, idly turning his club.

"Pathetic? You boys hit our shipment at the docks last week and broke our Don's leg. Don't talk to me about pathetic."

"Can't touch you, so I'll touch your woman."

Ethan's eyes went dark, and his own men reached for their guns.

Both sides were locked, and the air went sharp.

Then men they hadn't seen, hiding behind the Voss cars, climbed in, grabbed Vivian by the hair, and dragged her out into the open.

She screamed once. Pain blacked out her vision.

The Reed holding her hair shouted across the alley.

"Settle the books? Fine. Ethan, pick one—your wife or your sister-in-law. Choose fast. Or we start cutting Claire's fingers off."

Ethan's whole face went still.

"Let her go. You think trash like you gets to threaten me?"

The Reed laughed, pulled out a small blade, and pressed the tip into Claire's fingertip.

"Tough talk. Watch me take this finger off right now."

Claire shrieked and started sobbing.

"Ethan, please, they're going to cut my hand, please."

His face went black with rage, and his eyes ticked between Vivian and Claire.

He looked at Claire, at her tears, at her fear, at the bead of red already running down her finger.

His jaw locked tight. He swallowed once, and his voice came out raw.

"Let Claire go."

"Vivian, hang on for me. I'll come back for you the second this is done."

The cold of her body went deeper than her bones, and every part of her went limp. The Reeds kept their hands tight on her.

The other Reeds laughed and shoved Claire forward.

Vivian watched, eyes empty, as that familiar shape rushed across the alley to catch Claire and hold her.

Ethan didn't turn around. Not once.

Despair washed over her like dark water, and she felt the Reeds dragging her step by step toward the unlit mouth of the alley.