The morning of my son’s sixth birthday, I woke up thinking it would be a perfect day.

I had planned everything down to the last detail—a private VIP tour of Ocean Park, an exclusive lunch by the dolphin exhibit, and a custom-made cake waiting for Noah at the end of the day. As the wife of Jason Romano, the mafia boss of the Romano Empire, money had never been an issue.

But love? Loyalty? That was another story.

The hospital visits had drained more than just my energy. Stage four brain cancer was a slow, cruel thief, stealing my time, my future. But I had kept it a secret from Jason. He had made it clear he didn’t have time for ‘meaningless worries.’

"Don’t waste my money on hospitals, Emma," he'd said, barely looking up from his phone. "You always overthink things."

I wasn’t overthinking. I was dying.

But today wasn’t about me. It was about my son.

By noon, Ocean Park was filled with excited children, the scent of saltwater and fried food lingering in the air. Noah pulled me toward the giant shark tank, his small fingers warm in mine. “Mommy, look! It’s so big!”

I laughed, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “Bigger than you?”

He nodded eagerly, his excitement making my exhaustion worth it. Then, out of nowhere, his voice lit up with even more excitement.

"Mommy! Look! Daddy’s here too!"

I frowned. Jason? That wasn’t possible. He had told me he was handling “business.” That he was too busy to even call Noah for his birthday.

I followed my son’s gaze—and the world beneath me crumbled.

There, in the middle of the plaza, Jason was on one knee. Holding a ring. For Lily.

My younger sister. The one who had cried to me about her failed relationships. The one I had comforted after every heartbreak. The one who had sworn Jason was like a brother to her.

She stood there with wide, teary eyes, hands covering her mouth.

"Marry me," Jason said, his voice clear, steady. Like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Lily let out a shaky sob, nodding furiously. "Yes! Oh my God, Jason, yes!"

My entire family—my mother, father, aunts, uncles—stood around them, clapping. Clapping. As if this was something to celebrate. As if I wasn’t standing right here.

The ring slid onto Lily’s finger, and I felt something inside me snap.

Noah tugged at my sleeve, confused but excited. “Mommy! Is Daddy giving Auntie Lily a present? Can I go too?”

I couldn’t breathe. Then, as if she had just noticed me, my mother’s smile faltered. The applause faded.

One by one, their gazes turned to me. Jason slowly rose to his feet, locking eyes with me. There was no guilt. No shame. Just the same mild irritation he always had when I inconvenienced him.

Lily, on the other hand, had the audacity to look annoyed.

Jason crossed his arms, exhaling like I was exhausting him. "Emma, let’s not do this here."

"Do what, Jason?" My voice shook with barely contained rage.

"Make a scene," he cut in, rolling his eyes. "God, you’re always so dramatic—"

The slap echoed through the plaza.

For a moment, everything froze. The sting on my palm was nothing compared to the burning rage in my chest.

Jason's head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening. When he turned back, there was no shame, no remorse—just irritation. "Really, Emma?" he scoffed, rubbing his cheek. "Was that necessary?"

The sheer audacity left me breathless. The sting of betrayal wasn’t just in Jason’s eyes—it was in the shocked gasps of my family, the disapproving frown on my father’s face.

"Emma!" my father, Edward Moretti, barked. "Don’t ruin your sister’s happiness."

My stomach dropped. Edward Moretti—capo of the Moretti syndicate, a man feared in all of New York—had just dismissed me like I was a nuisance.

Happiness?

I let out a hollow laugh, my vision blurring. “Is this a joke?” My hands trembled at my sides. “You all knew?”

My mother, Isabella Moretti, smoothed out her designer dress. "Emma… you and Jason have been distant for a while. We thought it was for the best."

"For the best?" My voice cracked. "For the best? You mean betraying me behind my back?"

Jason exhaled, exasperated. "Emma, stop making a scene."

"A scene?" My voice rose. "You proposed to my sister in public, surrounded by my own family, on my son’s birthday! And I’m making a scene?"

Lily had the audacity to step forward, pouting like she was the victim. "Emma, I love him." She reached for my hand, fake sympathy in her eyes. "I didn’t plan this, but—"

I jerked away like her touch was poison. "Don’t touch me."

Her face twisted with irritation. "God, Emma, why are you being so selfish? You never appreciated Jason. You were always running off to your little hospital visits, leaving him alone. What did you expect?"

My stomach lurched. "You’re blaming me for your affair?"

Lily shrugged, her lips curving into a smirk. "You pushed him away. I was just… there for him."

"You mean you threw yourself at him like a desperate slut," I snapped, shaking with fury.

Her eyes darkened. "Careful, Emma."

"Or what?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "You’ll steal something else from me?"

Jason sighed, as if he was tired of my tantrum. "Emma, let’s be adults here."

"Adults?" I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You mean like how you crept around behind my back? Lied to me? Destroyed our marriage?"

His expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker of guilt.

Lily, however, smirked. "You and Jason were over long before this, Emma." She held up her hand, flashing the diamond ring. "He chose me."

The words sliced through me like a blade. And then my mother spoke, her voice filled with pride.

"Emma, this is for the best," she said smoothly. "Lily is pregnant. With Jason’s child."

The words hit me like a wrecking ball. I staggered back, bile rising in my throat. Proud. She sounded proud.

"What?" My voice was barely a whisper.

Lily placed a hand on her stomach, her smirk widening. "That’s right, sis. You’re going to be an aunt. Isn’t it wonderful?"

A cold chill ran down my spine. Jason’s child. The man who ignored me when I was sick. The man who never once took me to a doctor. The man who hadn’t even cared enough to ask why I was always exhausted. And my sister… carrying his child.

My mother smiled, as if this was wonderful news. "You should be happy for them. They’ll finally have the family Jason always wanted."

Noah, who had been quiet, tugged at my sleeve. His big, innocent eyes blinked up at me. “I like Aunt Lily too,” his voice filled with childlike hope. “If Daddy loves her, you should be happy, Mom. Plus, I want Aunt Lily to be my mom too!”

I couldn’t breathe.

The world blurred around me.

Lily's victorious smirk. Jason's blank indifference. My parents’ silent complicity. And my son—my baby—smiling up at me, completely unaware of the betrayal tearing me apart.

Before I lost control, I turned on my heel, gripping Noah’s small hand like a lifeline.

“Emma,” Jason called, sounding bored. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t answer. I walked away, my legs trembling beneath me, my son’s warm fingers clutching mine. I didn’t stop. Not even when Noah kept looking back. Not even when I heard Lily’s voice, dripping with false pity—

“She’ll get over it.”

I wouldn’t. I would never forgive them.

***

The Romano estate was eerily silent when we got home. Noah fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted from his birthday—his birthday, the one his father had chosen to celebrate with someone else. I tucked him in, brushing his curls from his forehead. His peaceful face made my chest ache. He didn’t understand. He still believed his father was some kind of hero.

I wished I could protect him from the truth.

Once his breathing evened out, I left his room and collapsed onto my bed, sobbing until my body felt empty. Jason Romano. Mafia boss. My husband. The father of my child.

And Lily?

She was my baby sister. The one I never imagined would be the cause of mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories came anyway—uninvited, relentless, cruel.

Jason had pursued me relentlessly, the way only a man used to getting what he wanted could. When the Moretti Empire sent me to Paris for business, Jason booked a last-minute flight just to be with me.

“I couldn’t live without you for a whole week,” he had said, standing in the hotel lobby with a bouquet of tulips.

I had called him crazy. He had just kissed me and said, “Crazy in love.”

That was Jason.

Affectionate. Possessive. Mine.

Then we got married.

On our honeymoon, he whisked me away to Sydney, where we spent a month indulging in luxury, walking along the harbor, and making love under city lights. He had promised me forever. When Noah was born, he became even more protective, refusing to let me lift a finger. Every night, he held me close and whispered, “I love you more than anything in this world.”

I had believed him.

Then Lily came back.

She had been studying fashion design abroad for years, and when she returned, she was more beautiful than ever—elegant, stylish, the kind of woman people admired. Jason noticed.

I saw it—the way her eyes lingered on him, the way she laughed just a little too much at his jokes, the way Jason suddenly had so much to say to her. But I told myself it was nothing. Lily was my sister. Jason was my husband.

Then one night, I walked into our master bedroom and saw them—curled up in bed together.

My heart stopped.

“Jason?” My voice barely came out.

Lily sat up immediately, pulling the blanket around her. Jason, on the other hand, didn’t even look guilty.

“Relax, Emma,” he had said, rubbing his temples like I was the one being unreasonable. “Lily fainted. I was just helping her.”

And I—like a fool—had let it slide.

Because Noah was in the room. Because I didn’t want to believe it. Because I was a goddamn idiot.

But now?

Now I knew the truth.

They had been screwing behind my back for who knows how long.

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. The worst part? I still loved him. Even after all this, my stupid heart still ached for him. I wanted to scream. To throw something. To hurt the way I was hurting.

And as if the universe wasn’t done tormenting me, my phone rang.

Mom. I should have ignored it, but the pathetic, desperate part of me still wanted to believe she’d be on my side.

I pressed answer. “H-hello.”

Her voice was calm, like she wasn’t the mother of the woman whose life had just been shattered. “What now, you're still crying? Come on, Emma, stop being dramatic!"

I choked on my own breath. “What?”

“Lily is younger than you,” she continued. “She deserves happiness too.”

My grip tightened around the phone. “And what about me?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t I deserve it?”

A sigh. Then my father’s voice, “Don’t be selfish, Emma. Think about Noah. Jason is going to be Lily’s husband now. It’s best if you cooperate.”

Something inside me snapped.

I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall with a crack before falling to the floor. And then I buried my face in my pillow and screamed until my throat felt raw.

This wasn’t just Jason’s betrayal. It was everyone’s. My mother. My father. My sister. My husband. Every single person I had ever loved had thrown me away like I was nothing!

But if they thought I would just accept this?

If they thought I would just cooperate?

They were dead wrong.

I woke up to an eerie silence. I hadn’t noticed when exhaustion pulled me under, whether I had cried myself to sleep or simply passed out. My body ached. My head throbbed like I’d been hit by a truck. But none of that mattered. Because the moment I sat up, I realized—

Noah wasn’t in his bed.

My heart dropped. I bolted out of the room, calling his name. “Noah?” I ran down the hall, checking the bathroom, the living room—everywhere. “Noah!”

Silence.

My hands shook as I grabbed my phone and dialed my mother.

She picked up after the third ring, her voice calm, almost bored. “Oh, Emma. Finally awake?”

I could barely breathe. “Where’s Noah?”

“With us, of course. We’re celebrating his birthday.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “What? Without me?”

“Well, you were asleep," she sighed. “Lily and Jason planned a little party for him. He’s having so much fun.”

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palm. “You took my son while I was sleeping? Without telling me?!”

She tsked. “You were exhausted. We didn’t want to wake you.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Give him the phone. Now.”

A pause. Then a dismissive chuckle. “Emma, don’t ruin this for him. Let him be happy for once.”

“Happy?” My voice cracked. “He’s my son!”

“Then stop making his life miserable just because your husband chose your sister.”

I nearly blacked out from rage. “Excuse me?”

“Emma,” she said slowly, like I was a child. “Lily will love Noah more than you ever could. You’re always so busy—with work, with your endless hospital visits. Maybe this is for the best.”

I gripped the phone so tightly I thought it would shatter. “I swear to God, if you don’t bring my son back—”

“Enough, Emma.” My mother’s voice turned cold. “Stop being selfish.”

Click. The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my body shaking with rage, with helplessness. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to hurt the way I was hurting. Instead, my fingers moved on their own.

I opened Instagram. And then—

My breath caught in my throat. The first post on my feed was Lily’s. A photo of her and Jason, hands intertwined, her engagement ring front and center.

"Fate brought us together. Love kept us strong. Can’t wait to be Mrs. Romano! ️"

Thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments.

— Omg! Congratulations!

— Didn’t see this coming, but you two look perfect together!

— I always thought Jason married the wrong sister, tbh.

— Crazy how life works! Weren’t we just at his wedding a few years ago?

People I knew. People who had attended my wedding were congratulating them like this was some kind of fairytale.

I wanted to smash my phone. But then—

Another photo.

My vision blurred. It was Noah. Sitting on Jason’s lap, laughing, arms wrapped around Lily’s neck. They looked like a happy, perfect family. Like I never existed.

A sharp, stabbing pain tore through my skull. My vision spun, the pounding inside my head unbearable. With shaking hands, I reached for the nightstand, fumbling for the bottle of pain relievers. My fingers barely managed to twist the cap off before I popped two pills into my mouth, swallowing dry.

But the pain didn’t stop. A metallic taste filled my throat. My lip trembled as something warm trickled down my upper lip.

I wiped at it absentmindedly. Red. Blood.

Panic gripped my chest. My breaths came out shallow, uneven. I grabbed my phone and dialed my mother’s number.

No answer. I tried my father. Nothing. My heart pounded as I scrolled down and pressed Jason’s contact.

The call rang. Once. Twice. Then straight to voicemail.

I let out a weak, bitter laugh. Of course. Tears blurred my vision as I desperately pressed 911.

“H-hello?” My voice shook.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I—” My body swayed. My fingers trembled as I tried to steady myself against the wall. “I need help. Please... I—”

The phone slipped from my grasp.

The last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me whole was the faint voice of the operator, calling my name.

***

Bright lights. The steady beeping of a monitor. The sharp scent of antiseptic. I woke up in a hospital bed. Alone.

A nurse walked in, startled to see me awake. “Ms. Romano, you're conscious! How are you feeling?”

My throat was dry. “How long was I out?”

“You were admitted last night,” she said gently. “The paramedics found you unconscious at home. Do you have any family we should contact?”

Family.

The word twisted like a knife inside me.

I let out a weak, hollow laugh. “No. There’s no one.”

The nurse gave me a sad look but said nothing.

The next morning, after I was discharged, I went home. The moment I stepped inside, I felt it. He’s here. And then I saw him.

Jason. Sitting on the couch like he still owned the place. Legs crossed, fingers tapping impatiently against the armrest.

My chest tightened. “What... what are you doing here?”

He stood up, pulling a stack of papers from his briefcase. A pen clipped to the top. He held it out to me.

“Sign it.”

I blinked. My fingers twitched. “What?”

His eyes were empty, void of anything remotely resembling guilt. “The divorce papers. Sign them now.”