Everyone said I was lucky. After the Don, Lucas Vaughn, brought me back to his estate, I became the woman he treasured most.

He would halt billion-dollar deals just to be home on time to put me to sleep. He even learned sign language in secret, just so he could communicate with me after my vocal cords were damaged.

At first, I didn’t dare give him my heart.

Whenever he looked at me, his focus would drift. He showered me with gifts, yet always disappeared on the days that mattered most.

As the child in my womb grew, and as Lucas’s devotion intensified day by day, I let my guard down. I devoted myself completely to the role of wife and Donna.

Until the night I gave birth.

I hemorrhaged during a difficult labor, but Lucas never showed up.

After surviving by sheer luck, I finally saw the trending news. Lucas attended a Thames-side gala arm-in-arm with rising movie star, Serena Vale.

That was when I understood. To him, I had only ever been a substitute.

He broke his rules for her again and again. He indulged her humiliations toward me and even shoved me toward armed attackers at the brink of life and death.

Filled with hatred, I closed my eyes and sank into the deep sea, just as he wished.

Later, he knelt, clutching the hem of my dress, begging, "Zoe, please give me one more chance. I’ll repay you with my life."

His life was worth too little now. I no longer wanted it.

The hospital room was cold and silent, a single-occupancy ward stripped down to the bare minimum.

When the door was kicked open, I was forcing myself to endure the tearing pain in my abdomen while rocking my newborn daughter, Luna Vaughn, to sleep.

"How is your recovery, Miss Lang?" Her tone was deliberately restrained, yet nothing could conceal the innate elegance she carried.

The moment I saw her face clearly, I froze.

So this was Serena Vale, the national darling who had recently been appearing everywhere at Lucas Vaughn's side.

My fingers trembled as I instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around myself.

Before I could think further, she bent down toward the swaddled baby, handling her casually. Her sharp, manicured nails scraped across my daughter's cheek, leaving a red mark behind.

"So it's a girl?" she said lightly. "Lucas needs an heir who can inherit the family. Your womb is really disappointing."

Her mockery hit me like a blade.

I shook my head frantically.

That was not true!

When he had leaned down to feel the baby's movements, his eyes had been full of anticipation. I had seen it clearly.

"Don't get worked up." Serena chuckled softly, her voice dripping with disdain. "She doesn't look like Lucas at all. She looks like you. Hopefully, she won't end up like you—crippled."

I raised my hands urgently, signing with shaking fingers: [Please don't curse my daughter. She is healthy.]

"Tsk. Communicating like this is such a hassle." Her red lips moved closer to my ear, every word sharp enough to cut flesh. "You really think giving birth to a child secures your place as Donna? Do you know why Lucas still hasn't married you?

"Oh, right. I forgot to introduce myself properly. I'm Serena Vale, Lucas's first love. Back then, I went abroad to further my career and suggested the breakup. That's when he chose you. What? Don't you think we look quite alike?

"One more thing. Lucas couldn't bear to hold me back or let me suffer through childbirth. So he sweet-talked you into becoming a breeding mare. I'll raise the child. What he did with you was just for appearances. It's over now."

She was standing very close.

Close enough that I could see my own disheveled reflection in her eyes.

As I stared at her face, cold crept into my heart, inch by inch.

It was true. We looked seventy percent alike, especially our eyes and brows.

Suddenly, I remembered how Lucas would always lose focus when he looked at me.

Could it be because…

No. That couldn't be right. She had to be lying.

I refused to believe an outsider, rejected such a blood-soaked truth. I would only believe what Lucas said himself.

So I stubbornly signed again: [The Don loves me. He swore it.]

"A mute stand-in with quite the backbone," Serena sneered, contempt flooding her eyes.

"Waaah!"

A piercing cry suddenly exploded through the room as my daughter began thrashing violently.

What happened to her?!

I lunged toward the crib in panic.

Serena recoiled in exaggerated fear, deliberately raising her voice, "Miss Lang! How could you be so cruel? Just because he didn't come see you, you take it out on a newborn?"

Her assistants at the door turned to look, their faces filled with disgust.

"Figures. A mistress who abuses a baby just for money."

"Breaking up someone else's relationship. How shameless."

"Staying in a dump like this? Must have been dumped by her sugar daddy."

…

The vicious whispers drilled into my ears.

I wanted to argue, to explain, but no sound would come out.

"Miss Lang, I know you're angry," Serena continued softly. "I heard you went through a difficult delivery. Lucas was with me on a yacht that night, celebrating. He didn't make it back to you. I'm really sorry.

"But she is Lucas's flesh and blood." Serena frowned, looking heartbroken. "If you don't want to raise her, I'll take her back and care for her. That way, he can rest easy."

I didn't understand why she was suddenly repeating herself so loudly.

The next second, the metallic stench of blood filled the air as Lucas walked in.

Dressed in a charcoal-gray bespoke suit, Lucas strode in, the residual menace of the negotiation table still etched between his brows.

The moment he took in the rundown room and Luna crying herself hoarse, his expression darkened.

"Why would my Consigliere, Marcus King, choose a dump like this to house them?" Lucas's voice was razor-sharp. "If anything happens to the child, he'll be buried with her."

His gaze swept the room before finally landing on me. There seemed to be concern in his eyes. The instant our gazes met, days of pent-up grievance surged, as if I'd finally found a place to let it spill.

I raised my hand.

I wanted to ask why he disappeared during my delivery.

I was desperate to ask about his relationship with Serena Vale.

I longed to hear him deny that I was nothing more than a substitute.

Yet before anything could begin, Serena ended it.

"Lucas..." Serena looped her arm through his, her eyes reddening at the corners. "Miss Lang isn't doing well at all. She seems emotionally unstable after childbirth. She lost control and hurt the little Principessa."

She gestured meaningfully. "Look, even her legs are bruised."

Their intimacy, carried out as if no one else existed, sliced through my last shred of hope.

Lucas's gaze snapped toward me, a storm erupting in his eyes.

"What's this?" His voice was ice-cold, rage barely restrained. "So the moment something displeases you, you become this vicious?"

I shook my head frantically, crying as I pointed at Serena, my hands repeating the strangling motion over and over. My lips trembled violently, but all that came out were broken, rasping breaths.

"Drop the victim act."

I knew how much he loved Luna. Hurting our daughter crossed his absolute line.

The pity he once held for me curdled into disgust. "Luna is crying like this, but as her mother, you feel nothing?"

Serena spoke gently from the side, fanning the flames. "She's probably hungry. Why not let Miss Lang breastfeed her? Once she's full, she'll calm down."

Lucas nodded without hesitation. "Then hurry up and feed her."

My entire body went rigid.

The room was filled with his Soldati. Several assistants stood by the door.

Here?

Right here?

Was he really going to strip me of all dignity like this?

I looked at Lucas in despair, my eyes filled with pleading as I signed: [Can you ask them to leave first?]

"What are you stalling for? Can't you hear Luna crying herself breathless?!" He understood sign language, but he simply chose cruelty.

"Miss Lang, Luna comes first," Serena said with feigned kindness. "Look how pitiful she is. At a time like this, why care about pride? As a mother, you should learn to sacrifice."

My daughter's cries grew sharper, like a chainsaw tearing back and forth through my nerves. With no other choice, I gave in and reached for the buttons of my hospital gown.

At that moment, Marcus pushed the door open, his eyes colliding with mine.

My hands froze. The shame of breastfeeding in front of strangers made it impossible to continue.

I looked back at Lucas again, silently begging him to leave me at least this shred of dignity.

He lost patience. Turning to the Soldati behind him, he issued a cold command, "Strip her. Feed the child. Now."

The towering Soldati obeyed, stepping forward and pinning my shoulders like I was a prisoner.

How did it come to this? What did I do wrong to deserve this humiliation?

I struggled desperately, but I couldn't break free.

[Don't force me! Please!]

I kicked in panic, my eyes screaming what my voice could not, my throat already hoarse.

Lucas stood by and watched my despair unfold, but made no move to stop it.

"Since you gave birth, then do your job as a breeding mare. Why are you unwilling even to feed her?"

This was the second time I heard that word today. He said it himself; I could no longer deny it.

While I stood frozen in shock, the Soldati roughly tore open my collar. Buttons snapped loose. My pale chest was exposed, laid bare under the gaze of countless men.

In that moment, I did not feel human. Instead, I felt like livestock placed on an altar, waiting to be slaughtered.

By nightfall that same day, I was escorted back to Fog Harbor Estate.

There was no stretch limousine waiting at the gates or butler bowing in greeting.

I was not taken back to the top-floor master bedroom. Instead, the Soldati shoved me into a confinement room. The space was bare, with only a narrow iron window letting in a draft.

"The Don ordered you to reflect in here. Do not disturb the little Principessa."

After that, the man turned and left.

I braced myself against the wall and sank to the floor. The memories I had sealed away came rushing back, sharp with irony.

Two years ago, Lucas had pulled me out of the ruins of St. Laurent. He told me that since the world had no place for me, Fog Harbor Estate would be my sanctuary.

Back then, Lucas would finish handling the gang's blood-soaked business, wash away the stench of gunpowder, and drive across half the city late at night just to buy me a slice of cake I had casually mentioned.

He would tirelessly read bedtime stories to me and accompany me through night after night of brutal morning sickness during my pregnancy.

When he learned that the child I carried was a girl, his affection never wavered.

He personally oversaw the construction of the manor's tower, ensuring it was a luxurious palace for our unborn child with the finest natural light.

I still remembered how Lucas had wrapped his arms around me from behind, his palm resting on my swollen belly, his voice low and gentle.

"Zoe, our daughter will be the most noble Principessa in all of Sicily."

He had kept his word.

He even personally inspected the length of the fibers in the nursery carpet.

Every fragment of that former tenderness had now turned into blades, slicing me apart piece by piece.

I once believed I was his one true love.

In reality, I was nothing more than a shadow filling Serena's absence.

Now Serena wore the season's latest couture, standing under spotlights with his arm hooked through hers, appearing side by side at every public event.

Meanwhile, I had just given birth and was discarded like trash in this dark corner, burdened with the accusation of abusing my own child.

[I did not do it!]

[I would never hurt my daughter!]

I cried as I signed desperately into the empty air, trying to plead my case to gods who were not there.

No salvation came.

I did not know how much time had passed before the heavy iron door opened again.

Lucas walked in against the light. The black Italian suit outlined his tall, rigid frame. The face I once adored was now coated in frost.

"Serena is raising the little Principessa now. You had better put away your filthy thoughts."

I struggled to my feet and tried to reach for the hem of his pants. Before my fingers could touch him, he flicked my hand away in disgust, as if brushing off dust.

[I just want to see my daughter. Please.]

My signing was frantic and pitiful, terrified that even this request would be denied.

"You think you are worthy of seeing the little Principessa?"

[Why am I not worthy? I am her mother! And you? What am I to you?]

Lucas suddenly grabbed my chin, his fingers digging in hard, as if he wanted to crush my bones.

"Then I will make it clear for you. You are nothing more than a toy I picked up to pass the time when I was lonely abroad. The child was an accident!

"If it were not for the fact that you resemble Serena, why would I have spoiled a lowly cripple like you? Luna was only allowed to live because Serena begged for mercy. Do you understand?

"Dare to pull any more tricks, and I will make sure both of you disappear from this world."

The violence surging in his eyes sent my heart plunging into an icy abyss. There was a time when he could not bear to speak a single harsh word to me.

Now, he spoke as though sentencing traitors to death, telling me to die alongside my child.

Serena had not lied.

From beginning to end, I was nothing more than a mute substitute kept alive inside a cage of lies.

Only when I lowered my gaze and stopped resisting did he finally release me.

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his fingers with visible disdain.

"Behave yourself. Do not force me to clean house."