"Someone's tailing me!”

The tires screamed as I yanked the wheel, pressing hard on the accelerator. My heart race when I glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the rider gaining on me.

Suddenly, my car spun out, slamming into another with brutal force. Just before darkness closed in, I saw blood pooling between my legs.

Hours later, I was back at home, aching and alone, wondering why Vincent hadn’t even sent anyone to pick me up from the hospital.

As I stepped into our bedroom, I froze. Hanging over my vanity was a red lace lingerie.

I didn’t own anything like that, but I knew who did, Rebecca, his ex-girlfriend. The lace felt warm, like it had just been taken off.

Vincent walked out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, his phone in hand.

He barely looked at me, sneering, “Still pushing that car accident story?”

“It’s the truth, Vincent. I sent you the scans,” I replied, holding my voice steady.

He dismissed me with a shrug. I clutched the lingerie tighter, I couldn't believe that he's the guy I fell in love with.

As he reached for the clothes I usually laid out, he stopped, noticing I didn't prepared anything, his gaze finally meeting mine.

“Well, the bullet didn’t even graze you,” he scoffed. “Stop being dramatic.”

I felt numb. Hours earlier, I’d gotten stitches in my leg, and the doctor had quietly told me I’d been four weeks pregnant. But it was already over. Because the accident had taken that chance. If I’d been brought to the hospital sooner, maybe our child could have been saved.

“Vincent,” I said, rage boiling up, “Who did you bring here?” I threw the lingerie at him.

“Don’t start with your accusations! Maybe it’s yours!” he snapped.

“You know I’d never wear this. Just tell me the truth.” My words cut through the silence.

He stepped closer, voice low. “Are you accusing me? Are you losing your mind?” His hand reached for my chin, but I slapped it away.

“I’m not blind, Vincent. I know what’s going on with Rebecca.”

“Enough with your jealousy, Precious,” he growled, “or you won’t like where this goes.” Then, his phone buzzed. His anger vanished as he answered with a smile, walking out without a glance.

Left alone with nothing. I lost our child, my safety, and every illusion I’d held. I finally saw the truth.

Since I got involved with a mafia lord, danger was inescapable, but he’d promised to protect me.

Tonight, Vincent broke that promise.

As the door clicked shut, I moved with purpose, retrieving a small box under the bed. I slipped the battery into a secret phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in years.

The line clicked, and Demetri’s familiar voice greeted me. “Precious Wilson, long time. What brings you back?”

“I’m ready, Demetri. I’m accepting your offer.” My voice was firm and cold, a side of me I had kept for seven years with Vincent.

He chuckled. “Sure about that? Last I heard, you were with my enemy.”

“It’s over. There’s no reason to stay with him.” My gaze lingered on a photo of Vincent and me on the nightstand. “Not anymore.”

“Good. I’ll set things up. Call if you need anything.”

As I hung up, calm washed over me. I was done being submissive. It was time to take back my life.

Morning came, and Vincent was already by the door, twirling his car keys as I stepped outside. He barely glanced at me, his hand grabbing mine, cold and dismissive.

"Still being dramatic over last night? You didn’t even make my coffee," he snapped.

I pulled my hand away, my voice sharp. "Why should I? You can do it yourself."

His grip tightened, a mocking smirk on his lips. "Oh, so that’s how it is? Maybe I should make you quit your job. Take away that little thing you brag about. I’ll drive you to work."

I couldn’t hide my surprise. He’d never offered to drive me. I’d always commuted alone. But ever since Rebecca returned, he was glued to her, practically her chauffeur.

He pulled me toward his car, but his phone buzzed, and I saw the look on his face, it was her.

His grip weakened, and I didn’t wait for him to choose. I already knew exactly where he wanted to be. I watched as he rushed to his car.

A few days had passed since I'd last seen Vincent or even his men. He barely came home, and if he did, he stayed locked in his study or went straight to bed.

But everyone kept talking about him and Rebecca. I didn't know how to feel about it, but I noticed I didn't care anymore.

"I bet Precious hasn’t seen the news today?" one of my coworkers whispered, leaning in across my desk. "Mr. Ferrara was spotted holding hands with his ex-girlfriend while they strolled through the city."

"Poor girl," another murmured, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe they're already split up."

It was work hours, why were they gossiping about my life?

I leveled a cold stare at them as I printed my resignation letter, ignoring their sideways glances. I didn’t need this job anymore.

As I slipped the letter into a folder, curiosity got the better of me. Who really is Rebecca Graciano?

During my afternoon break, I watched the news. The city was thriving under Vincent’s lead as the mafia lord hiding behind his businesses. Everyone tolerated his rules because he brought money.

The photos of Vincent and Rebecca, smiling and enjoying themselves in the city, reminded me of how we used to be.

I looked up more about her and discovered she was the daughter of a mafia boss from across the city, involved in both legal and underground operations. Her connections only strengthened Vincent’s hold, giving him power that could rule half the country.

My phone buzzed, Vincent's name flashing across the screen. I hesitated but finally picked up, pressing it to my ear.

“What flavor of cake do you want?” he asked, his voice almost casual.

I recalled when I’d first asked him to buy me one, and he’d refused, scoffing, "You're too old for dessert, Precious! Stop whining like a kid." His words had stayed with me, a thorn I could never quite pull out.

"Anything will do," I said flatly, ending the call without waiting for his reply.

Just then, I got a message from Demitri, asking if I knew any of Vincent’s plans. Before I could reply, my phone buzzed again, his name lighting up the screen.

“I don’t know his plans, Demitri,” I answered, keeping my voice low.

"He’s making connections everywhere, Precious," Demitri said urgently. "He’s plotting something big. While you’re with him, try to find out."

"I will." I nodded to myself, though he couldn’t see it.

"My proposal’s ready. I’ll send it over so you can review the terms."

"Alright, thanks." I hung up, the weight of his words settling in.

Moments later, Vincent appeared, striding toward me with a frown. He glanced at my phone. "Who were you talking to?"

I forced a smile, slipping the phone back into my pocket. "Just friends checking in," I lied smoothly, meeting his gaze.

He set a cake down in front of me and sat beside me, watching my reaction. I reached for it, but he slid it out of my reach, handing me a single slice instead.

"This is yours. You wouldn’t finish the whole thing alone," he said, his tone cold as ice.

It was strawberry cake. Despite our years together, he still didn’t know I hated strawberries.

"I don’t like strawberries. Why would you choose something I don’t like, Vincent?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If you don’t want it, throw it away." He scoffed, grabbing the cake box.

"I regret remembering I have a whimsical girlfriend. I shouldn’t even be here," he snapped, standing up and walking off, ignoring the hushed whispers of onlookers.

After submitting my resignation, I packed up and headed home. Later, I checked my phone and saw news of Vincent celebrating Rebecca’s birthday at the hotel he’d named after me. He’d promised to take me there once renovations were done.

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "It’s my name, but Rebecca got there first."

Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a message from Vincent appeared.

"Come to the hotel. My men are busy, and Rebecca wants to meet you. The party’s over. No one will be there to take your picture."

My hands trembled as I leaned against the chair, struggling to steady myself. I didn’t know if this was just a trap for Vincent to showcase how useless I was to his empire, but maybe I should go and see how it would end between us.

After all, there was nothing left to salvage when he’d made it clear that I wasn’t among his priorities.

I instructed the taxi driver to take me to the hotel.

After a few seconds of staring at my name on the hotel sign, I gathered the courage to walk inside.

Making my way toward the private room, I caught sight of Vincent's friends laughing with Rebecca, handing her gifts and food.

Yet when it came to me, they didn’t spare a second glance.

They made me feel like I was nothing special, like a speck of dust that didn’t belong with Vincent.

Maybe this truly was the end. Maybe I could never replace her. Ever since she returned six months ago, I’d been pushed aside like a forgotten toy.

Just as I reached for the door handle, Vincent's friend Theo stepped in front of me, his expression twisted with disgust. “Precious! Why are you here? Don’t you know your low-class filth doesn’t belong here?”

I kept my face composed, ignoring the insult. “Vincent invited me. Now, excuse me, I have to pass.”

“Not so fast!” Theo shoved me, making me stumble to the ground. “Do you really think you can just walk in and ruin Vincent’s happiness? Do you even make him smile like that, huh?”

I remembered how Vincent never smiled that way to me.

With me, he was always stoic, reserved. Mever the easy laughter he shared with Rebecca.

In the early days of our relationship, I’d tried to befriend his circle because he always enjoyed their company. I’d even learned to cook Theo’s favorite dish for his birthday, only to find the dish discarded in the trash, untouched.

After that, I was never invited to their gatherings again.

Thinking of all the ways I’d bent myself to fit into Vincent’s world, I was stunned that it took losing everything to realize just how much I had sacrificed.

I pushed myself up, brushing off his words. “Let me pass, Theo. I don’t need to hear your nonsense.”

“Why can’t you just leave Vincent alone? You’re such a pest!” he snapped.

Before I could respond, Rebecca called Theo over, and he had no choice but to step aside.

I met Vincent's gaze as I walked in, catching sight of the chocolate cake on the table, the same one he’d brought in the box earlier.

So this was why he asked me for something. He wants to wash away the guilt of giving everything to her.

“If this isn’t the mysterious girlfriend,” Rebecca said softly, a calculating gleam in her eyes as she approached. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Miss Wilson.”

“Well, I hope it’s nothing too terrible,” I replied, extending my hand. “I’ve read a few things about you too, Miss Graciano.” She took my hand, her grip firm as we shook.

"That's a nice ring,” she commented, eyeing it with a smirk. “Looks familiar. I remember seeing something similar in Vincent’s trash just a few days ago.”

I glanced toward Vincent and noticed his hand subtly moving to his pocket, though I pretended not to see.

Our promise ring. I hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped wearing it. He’d told me he was keeping it safe, but I guess his idea of “safe” was the trash bin.

Keeping my voice steady, I responded, "These rings are pretty common. If you like it, I’d be happy to give you mine.”

Rebecca simply smirked in response, staying silent.

“What are you doing here, Precious? Didn’t I tell you to stay home at night?” Vincent’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.

Rebecca stepped back, her grin lingering in her eyes. In that moment, I realized Vincent hadn’t been the one who texted me.

“Vincent, relax,” Rebecca cooed, her voice sweet but filled with condescension. “She’s here now; let’s just welcome her.”

“No!” Vincent snapped, his gaze hardening as he approached me. “Why would I welcome someone who’s ridiculously dramatic and constantly accusing me of things?”

He moved closer, eyes narrowed, his presence looming. I barely recognized this man I once dreamed of building a life with.

“You’re here to follow me, aren’t you? Trying to paint me as the bad guy again, Precious? How crazy can you be?”