On the third day, Adriana checked herself out against the doctors' protests. There was a commission to be judged, and she would not surrender it.

This was her gift to the child she carried, the foundation on which she and her baby would build a future no Family could take from them.

In the corridors behind the showing hall, she crossed paths with Vanessa Carbone.

Vanessa drifted past her, every line of her wearing unbridled triumph.

"Adriana. Surprised to find me here? So the two of you came up together under the same roof. So you sat at his bedside after the hit that nearly took him. In the end you couldn't hold on to any of it. His body, his heart, the name of Moretti. It's all mine now."

"And today I'm going to ruin what's left of you."

The final presentations went in an order drawn by lot. Vanessa landed in the slot right before her.

She stepped onto the main floor and unveiled her finished pieces, and the blood in Adriana's veins turned to ice.

The collection laid out under the lights was her own Starlight Memories series.

Vanessa lifted the microphone and, without a trace of shame, recited every concept, every spark of inspiration Adriana had bled out over countless sleepless nights.

In the front row, seated where the Family's honored guests sat, Lorenzo watched with undisguised pride on his face.

"Vanessa has a real gift for the craft," he said.

The judges nodded along, murmuring their approval.

Adriana's mind went blank. She had never imagined he would take work she treasured like her own flesh and blood and hand it to another woman.

The host called her name several times before she came back to herself and walked out under the lights.

She drew a deep breath, set out her designs, and met the stunned room without flinching. Her voice came clear and steady.

"Esteemed judges. My name is Adriana Falcone. This Starlight Memories collection is my original work. What Miss Carbone has just shown you is a theft of my designs, entire."

The instant the words left her, the hall broke into noise.

The judges traded uneasy glances, their eyes drifting toward Lorenzo in the place of honor, waiting for the Don's son to speak.

Lorenzo rose slowly. His gaze moved over her, cold as a drawn blade, and his lips barely parted.

"Adriana. What do you think you're doing?"

"Look at yourself. What kind of spectacle is this? You call yourself a Moretti? You're an embarrassment to the name."

Adriana swallowed the agony turning over inside her.

"I'm making a spectacle? You took the work I poured my heart and soul into, night after night, and made a gift of it to your kept woman. And I'm the one making a spectacle?"

His face stayed glacial.

"Is your heart really that ugly? Because we're bound, no other woman is allowed to breathe near me? When did you become this person?"

Adriana laughed out loud. "Who changed here, Lorenzo? You or me?"

"In your eyes everything I am is worthless. But of course it is. You can't even remember your own vows."

"You swore you'd love me to the end of your life." Her voice dropped low. "Turns out your life was shorter than I thought."

She turned to Vanessa, who stood there glowing with satisfaction, and the corner of Adriana's mouth curved upward.

Then, before the whole room, she crossed to the fire station on the wall, lifted the extinguisher free, and brought it down on Vanessa's counterfeit pieces. The display burst apart, wreckage scattering across the floor.

Vanessa shrieked the moment it registered. Her people surged in, lunging at Adriana, screaming for her to drop dead.

The hall fell into chaos. Adriana was hopelessly outnumbered, and they shoved her to the ground.

Lorenzo's first instinct was to gather Vanessa against him and carry her out of the building.

Adriana curled in on herself on the floor, both hands locked over her lower belly, things raining down on her body. She trembled with the pain of it and would not let go.

It was not until the hall's men regained order that she was finally pulled free.

Her hair was tangled and wild, the look of her wrecked, and a thin line of blood crept from a gash at her temple.

The cameras came up all at once, catching every frame of her humiliation.

Mockery and vicious words swirled around her. She seemed to hear none of it. She simply kept walking, steady and unbowed, toward the doors.

She had barely stepped past the iron gates when a message from Carmela came through.

"Tomorrow is the old Don's feast day. I'm hoping you'll come one last time. I'd also like to put the papers severing the alliance in your hands myself."

Adriana stared at the screen for a long time before typing back a single word: "Okay."

The next morning, she arrived at the Moretti estate early, planning to pay her respects and leave.

She never expected Lorenzo to walk in with Vanessa on his arm.

The courtyard, hung with white linens and the scent of garlic from the kitchens, fell into a sudden hush, then erupted. Made men and their wives turned to one another, murmuring in disbelief. Somewhere a chair scraped stone.

Carmela's face drained of color.

"Who told you to bring her here? Carlo, the men, get this woman out of my house."

"I dare anyone to try."

Lorenzo stepped forward, shielding Vanessa behind him. His gaze swept the gathering, and every word came out razor-sharp.

"Vanessa is carrying my child. A Moretti heir. I brought her here today so every man under this roof acknowledges that."

The teacup slipped from Adriana's fingers. It shattered against the marble, hot tea splashing across her legs. She didn't feel it.

Lorenzo's expression was hard as stone as he drew a folded document from inside his jacket.

"Adriana cannot bear children. The child Vanessa carries is the only heir this bloodline will get."

Carmela stumbled back a step. She snatched the report with trembling hands, her face white with shock. The relatives broke into chaos, voices overlapping, gasps rippling down the long table where Sunday wine still sat untouched.

Adriana steadied herself. She stepped forward, her gaze locked on Lorenzo like a blade.

"Where did you get this report?"

Lorenzo's voice shook.

"If Vanessa hadn't found out, were you going to hide this from the famiglia forever? Let the bloodline die out?"

Adriana let out a bitter laugh. No words came. Beneath the table's edge, her thumb found the slim band she had designed herself and turned it, slow, a quarter-rotation.

Vanessa turned to her, eyes glistening with tears.

"I know my blood isn't good enough. I know I'm not worthy of Lorenzo. But this baby is innocent. All I want is to keep it." Her answer came a beat too quick, her trembling smile stretching a fraction too wide.

"This family does not recognize that child, and it certainly does not recognize you."

Carmela's voice cut through the room like a whip. She crossed to Adriana's side and stood there like a wall built of forty years of being a Don's wife.

"Anyone who tries to set foot in this house with that woman answers to me first."

Lorenzo raised his voice.

"Mamma. Vanessa carries a son."

The room went still. Even the soldiers along the wall stopped breathing.

"I'll see Vanessa deliver this child safely. He's my only heir. As for you, Adriana, you'll always be the Don's wife. Once the boy is born, he'll be handed to you to raise. That should be enough."

Let Vanessa bear the child to carry the bloodline. Keep Adriana as the legitimate wife to preserve the Family's honor and its clean face to the world.

Adriana laughed. A cold, hollow sound.

Enough?

"What a tidy little arrangement, Don Moretti. You really do mean to have it all."

Across the room, old Vittorio Moretti heard every word. His whole body trembled. He clutched his chest and sank into his chair, one hand white-knuckled on the head of his cane.

Adriana looked at the grotesque farce unfolding before her. She drew a long breath, forcing the storm inside her down, and turned to face Salvatore Moretti, Carmela, and Vittorio. She bowed deeply, the way one bows to a bloodline one is leaving forever.

"The affairs of this Family are no longer my concern."

She turned and walked away.

"Wait. Please, wait."

Vanessa rushed after her, catching her by the arm. Tears streamed down her face, the picture of fragile, rain-soaked beauty.

"Please, I'm begging you. Let me have this baby. I'm begging you."

"Let go of me."

Adriana wrenched her arm, trying to break free.

Vanessa only gripped tighter. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper meant for Adriana's ears alone.

"Adriana Falcone. I never thought he'd still insist on keeping you as the Don's wife."

The words landed. In the same instant, the grip on Adriana's arm vanished.

Vanessa's body pitched backward. She hit the stone steps with a sickening thud, and a piercing scream tore through the courtyard.

"Ahhh!"

"Vanessa!"

Lorenzo burst through the doors to find Vanessa crumpled on the steps, both hands clutching her stomach, her face chalk-white.

"Lorenzo, she pushed me. My stomach, it hurts so much, the baby, my baby."

A shocking bloom of crimson seeped across the hem of Vanessa's dress, vivid as a wound against the pale marble of the estate's grand stairwell.

Lorenzo's eyes were bloodshot. He lunged forward and locked his hand around Adriana's throat, his voice a raw, ragged snarl that silenced every soldier still lingering in the hall.

"You vicious bitch! You can't have children of your own, so you had to kill hers? How can you be this heartless!"

The suffocating pressure crushed inward. Adriana clawed at his fingers, desperate to say she hadn't pushed anyone, but his grip sealed her windpipe shut. Not a single word escaped.

Then he released her, not gently, but with a violent shove that sent her flying.

She hit the cold stone hard. Instinct curled her body inward, arms wrapping around her stomach before she even registered the pain.

Lorenzo was already gone. He scooped Vanessa into his arms and ran for the door, his voice cracking with panic.

"Don't be scared. I'm taking you to the doctor. The baby's going to be fine…"

Carmela rushed out after them, her steps unsteady on the marble. The moment she saw Adriana crumpled on the floor, white as paper, tears spilled down her face.

"Adriana, I'm so sorry…"

Adriana braced one hand against the wall and dragged herself upright. She managed a thin, brittle smile.

"I'm sorry I ruined the old Don's feast day."

Carmela's eyes were red and swollen. Her hands shook as she reached into her purse, past the rosary coiled there, and pressed the severed alliance papers into Adriana's palm.

"From this day forward, you are not a Moretti bride. You are my daughter. You always will be."

Adriana's nose burned. She nodded once, turned, and walked away.

She hadn't made it far down the gravel drive before several enforcers in black closed in around her and shoved her into a waiting car.

The car tore through the streets and screeched to a halt outside the Family's private clinic, the kind of place that asked no questions and kept no records.

Inside the shuttered room, Vanessa lay propped against the pillows, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. The moment Adriana was dragged through the door, her sobbing intensified.

Lorenzo rose from the bedside and walked toward Adriana. He towered over her, looking down with glacial contempt.

"The baby is gone. Get on your knees and apologize."

An enforcer seized her shoulders and forced her down. Her kneecaps struck the tile floor so hard it felt like every bone in her legs shattered at once. The pain ripped through her, and her whole body trembled.

But her gaze didn't waver. Slowly, she turned the slim band on her finger, the one she had designed with her own hands, a quarter-rotation against her skin.

"I didn't do it. Why should I?"

Fury twisted Lorenzo's face. He had told her, no one would replace her. The child would have been given to her to raise, and Vanessa sent away afterward.

So why did she have to kill his child?

He pulled out his phone and made the call.

"That ten-figure tribute the Falcone front is counting on. Cut it. Have the Consigliere sever the partnership tonight."

He hung up and fixed his stare on Adriana, every syllable laced with the patience of a man who never had to raise his voice to be obeyed.

"You won't apologize? Fine. Then I'll crush your father's standing by morning. The old Don barely survived the last war. This time—"

Adriana's heart plummeted.

She knew Lorenzo meant every word. He could reduce the Falcone name to ash with a single phone call, and no one across the territory would lift a hand to stop him.

Her father was older now. His health couldn't withstand another blow. She would not let her bloodline be destroyed because of her.

The cramping in her lower abdomen was getting worse, sharp, twisting knots of pain. She bit down on her lip until the taste of iron flooded her mouth. The room had gone very still around her, the soldier at the door not moving, Vanessa's weeping the only sound. Only then did she slowly bow her head.

"I'm sorry."

Behind the curtain of tears, the corner of Vanessa's mouth curled into a triumphant smirk, a fraction too wide.

"Get out."

Lorenzo spat the two words without an ounce of warmth left in his eyes.

Adriana stood. Her knees screamed with every step, each one unsteady, lurching. She didn't look back.

Behind her, Lorenzo's voice turned impossibly soft as he soothed Vanessa.

"Don't be afraid. I'll stay right here with you."

The clinic doors opened to a wall of cold night air. Adriana lifted her hand and pressed it gently against her lower belly. Her fingertips were cool against the fabric. She lowered her head and whispered.

"It's okay, baby. Mommy's taking you away from here. We're never coming back."

She didn't go back to the Moretti estate. There was nothing left behind those walls she wanted.

She drove straight to the airfield and bought a one-way passage on the next flight across the ocean, beyond the reach of the Family.

Then she opened her phone and sent a single file to a man who printed what the Families paid to bury.

Release this in three days. The front page.

The plane lifted off the runway. Adriana watched the churning sea of clouds roll past her window, and her eyes held nothing but certainty. Her thumb went still against the slim band on her finger. She had stopped turning it.

Lorenzo Moretti. This is goodbye.

I loved you for so many years. Consider this my parting gift.

After that, a new beginning.