I staggered through the door, head spinning.

All I wanted was to wreck the place, march straight to the Corleone Tower, and scream it out—the Don was screwing his stepmother.

But Omertà was branded into my bones.

The Bettinis don't break. From day one it was drilled in—never rat, never shame the name.

Even if your husband's a monster.

"Ugh."

The rush of rage twisted into nausea. I clung to the sink, throwing up till the room tilted.

Sweat and tears blurred together.

Never had I wanted divorce more.

Yeah, I loved him. But what was I these three years—especially the last two months?

A free whore. A front to hide their filth.

I'm done playing that part.

Another wave tore through me. I heaved until nothing came up—then it hit me. No period this month.

Giovanni used to keep his distance. We barely touched, so I never paid attention.

But these last two months? Every night. No protection.

Hands shaking, I ripped open the test, whispering in my head, Please, not now. Please, no.

I used to dream about a baby. Now, the thought of two red lines felt like a death sentence.

"No..."

The result stared back at me. My mind went blank as tears dripped onto the stick.

Game over.

If this had happened sooner, I could've walked away.

But now? I was carrying the Corleone heir. Giovanni would never let me go.

The phone buzzed—my father.

I wiped my face and answered, bracing myself.

"Come home this weekend," he barked. "I hired someone to teach you how to be more charming. Can't even keep your husband—how did I end up with such a useless daughter?"

I bit my lip, the words 'I want a divorce' stuck in my throat.

The man who shoved me into this hell was never gonna pull me out.

The old-school side of the Family had been fading for years. Now, the Bettinis leaned on the Corleones just to breathe.

My father would never help me escape Giovanni.

The line went dead. I slid to the floor.

If I wanted out, I'd have to do it myself.

I stood, ready to toss the test.

Then the door swung open. Giovanni stepped in, frowning.

"Lili?" His eyes dropped to the stick. "What's that?"

Too late.

He ripped it from me, and when the result sank in, his whole face lit up.

"You're pregnant?"

The joy looked so damn real.

If I hadn't caught him with Helena, I might've believed it.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna be a father!"

He cupped my face, leaning in. I turned away, stiff.

Didn't faze him. His eyes sparked like he'd just cracked some genius plan.

"Lili, sweetheart, I've got the best idea."

My stomach knotted.

"You're pregnant now. You need someone to care for you, and I'm swamped. So... why don't we bring Mother here? She's family. I'd feel better with her looking after you."

He was actually thrilled to move Helena in—so they could keep sneaking around under the same roof as his pregnant wife.

"No!" I snapped.

His smile dropped. "You gonna spit on a Don's offer?"

That look in his eyes chilled me. I stepped back without thinking.

He caught himself, softening fast.

"Sorry. I'm just worried about you and the baby."

He reached for my face. I flinched back.

His eyes went cold.

Fingers clamped around my chin.

"This isn't up for debate. From now on, you stay home. Your only job is to deliver my heir."

Then he walked out.

I crumpled to the floor, staring at my stomach, hollow inside.

At some point, I drifted into sleep.

My dreams were nothing but pain.

My father's cold stare.

Relatives' eyes, heavy with expectation.

And Giovanni's body—hungry, relentless—

but the woman beneath him wasn't me.

Cruel laughter snapped me awake.

I yanked the curtains open.

Down in the garden, Giovanni was hauling Helena's bags from her car.

They laughed together, close as newlyweds.

After Helena moved in, the house turned into my personal hell.

One night, I went for water and froze—Giovanni had her pressed against the fridge, kissing her like she was his world, his hand already under her nightgown.

"Oh, Lili!" Helena shoved him off, face flushed. "He was just helping me reach the top shelf."

Giovanni didn't even flinch. He slid his hand back like nothing happened, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Her back's bad. I was just steadying her. You look pale—couldn't sleep?"

My stomach flipped. I didn't answer. I just turned and walked away.

At lunch, Helena "accidentally" dumped boiling soup across my hand.

"Oh no! Lili, I'm so sorry!" Her voice played sweet, but her eyes were stone cold.

The burn made me gasp, and Giovanni just scowled. "She didn't mean it. Stop overreacting—it's just a little burn." Then he turned soft for her. "You okay, Mother? Next time, let the servants handle it."

Something inside me snapped. I yanked the tablecloth, sent every dish crashing to the floor.

Giovanni froze—he'd never seen me like that.

Helena clung to his arm, tears glittering. "Don't blame Lili. It's me. She's pregnant—mood swings, you know..."

He blinked out of his shock. "And that excuses this tantrum?"

He started toward me, hand half-raised to grab my shoulders. But his eyes caught on my stomach, and he stopped.

Helena stayed close, waiting to stir the pot.

I was done. But Giovanni never let me leave the house.

Then something shifted.

The moment I stopped playing the obedient wife, Giovanni started acting soft.

He brought me water when I puked, rubbed my back like he cared.

When cramps jolted me awake, he'd leap up, massaging my calves until the pain eased.

He picked the sunniest room and began setting up a nursery.

I knew it wasn't for me—it was for the heir in my belly.

Still, when he looked at me with those gentle eyes, my heart tripped.

I'd waited three years for a look like that.

But I wasn't the only one who noticed.

***

At four months pregnant, I sipped the tea a maid handed me. Thirty minutes later, pain ripped through my stomach.

Helena barged in, clutching me like some savior. "Oh my God, how could you do this to yourself? Lili, even if you don't want this baby, you can't hurt yourself like this!"

I stared at her, wide-eyed, pain stealing my voice.

Giovanni stormed in. Her words hit, and his face twisted from shock to rage. He grabbed my throat.

"You took abortion pills?"

"I didn't..." I gasped, shaking with fear and fury.

"There's a bottle on your nightstand!" Giovanni roared. "The doctor confirmed it—residue in your system! Liliana Bettini, how could you be so cruel?"

He yanked my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I wondered why you've been so cold. Turns out you never wanted my child at all!"

"It wasn't me—it was her—" I tried to point at Helena, tears blurring my sight.

"Shut up!" he bellowed, shoving me back onto the bed. "You dare accuse my mother? She's done everything for you. I've been too soft—you've forgotten your place, forgotten the rules."

He didn't look at me again.

His voice snapped like a whip at the guards by the door.

"Lock her in the Confession Cell. No one opens it without my word."

Two guards came in stone-faced, yanking me off the bed like I weighed nothing.

"Giovanni, please... save our baby..." I sobbed, each cry ripping through my belly like knives.

He kept his back to me, arms wrapped around the oh-so-"shaken" Helena.

"Don't be scared, Mother. It's over."

The doctor faltered. "Don, her condition's unstable. The Confession Cell is too damp, too cold—"

Giovanni cut him off, voice sharp. "Say one more word and you'll join her."

Then he walked away, carrying Helena.

I was dumped into the Confession Cell, curled on the ice-cold floor.

Pain tore through my stomach, warm blood spreading across my clothes.

The fear of losing my baby twisted tighter than the pain itself.

My baby...

I pressed my hands against my belly—faint, but still there.

Alive.

Maybe because I only swallowed one sip.

My baby held on.

And so did I, finally awake.

Giovanni wouldn't believe me.

My family wouldn't lift a finger.

The only person left to save me... was me.

I had to run, even if it meant sleeping on sidewalks, even if I lost it all.

I stayed quiet for a week, waiting for my body to heal.

Then, during a shift change, I struck.

Pressed a dinner knife to the guard's neck.

"Don't make a sound. I just want out."

He opened his mouth to yell, so I drove the blade into his collarbone.

"The next one goes in your throat."

Shaking, he slipped me his keycard.

That night, with the storm covering my tracks, I slipped out through the back garden gate.

Rain washed the blood off me.

I didn't look back.

I ran, bleeding, across half the city.

Finally, I knocked on Emma's door.

We'd met in college, in the Literature Club.

After I married Giovanni, we drifted apart.

When the door opened, I collapsed.

"Lili?"

***

By the time Giovanni stumbled out of Helena's room, the sky was already dark.

He suddenly remembered Liliana.

He barked at the doctor, "How's Lili?"

The guy froze, clueless.

Giovanni's eyes narrowed. "Didn't I tell you to check on her?"

The doctor stuttered, "Madam Helena... said it wasn't needed—"

Helena strolled in, silk clinging to her, voice dripping sweet poison. "Relax, Gio. I figured Lili needed some time alone. Why don't we—"

Her hand skimmed his chest.

A chill crawled up his spine.

He shoved her off. "Forget it. I'll check myself."

He stormed down to the Confession Cell—

And stopped cold at the sight of blood pooling on the floor.

"What the hell—?!"