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.”

I stared at the divorce papers in Jason’s hand, my whole body trembling.

“Sign it,” he repeated, his tone void of emotion, as if the past years we spent together meant nothing.

I took the papers—then tore them apart. Jason’s eyes darkened slightly, but instead of anger, he smirked. With calculated ease, he pulled out an ATM card and tossed it onto the coffee table.

“There’s a million dollars on that,” he said. “Your severance pay.”

My breath hitched. Severance pay? Like I was just some employee who had outlived her usefulness?

Like I had been nothing more than a burden he finally got rid of?

Fury boiled inside me. I slapped him. Hard.

The sharp crack of my palm against his cheek echoed through the room.

Jason barely flinched. He slowly turned his head back, touching his cheek with mild amusement.

"Feel better now?" he murmured.

I picked up the ATM card and flung it back at him. "Go to hell, Jason."

His smirk deepened. "Already there, sweetheart."

Then he leaned closer, his breath cold against my skin.

"You know," he said, his voice smooth but taunting, "Noah has already chosen Lily as his new mother."

My blood ran cold.

The kitchen door creaked open, and Lily stepped out, holding Noah’s tiny hand. They were both smiling.

My stomach twisted as I took in the sight before me. Noah—my baby—was cradling a giant robot toy in his arms, one I knew cost more than what I could ever afford. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at Lily, pure admiration shining in them.

“Thank you, Mommy Lily!” he beamed.

Mommy… Lily?

My throat tightened.

“Noah baby… I'm..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He turned to me, but there was no excitement in his eyes when he saw me. Just mild curiosity.

"Mommy, why are you mad?" he asked innocently. "Mom Lily bought me this! She’s the best!"

Lily laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, Noah, sweetie, I just want you to be happy." Lily then look at me, "Emma, don't look so hurt. Noah's just being honest. I'm the one who's been taking care of him lately, after all."

Noah nodded eagerly. “Mommy Lily is nice to me, Mommy. She plays with me, she makes Daddy happy. You should sign the papers so we can be a happy family.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. Then—before I could react—she turned to Jason. And kissed him. Right in front of me. A deep, slow kiss, as if they had all the time in the world.

Noah giggled. "Mommy Lily and Daddy love each other!"

Something inside me snapped. But I couldn’t move. I just stood there. Frozen. Like a fool. Like an idiot. Watching my husband—my first love—kiss my sister while my son cheered them on.

This wasn’t real.This couldn’t be real. But it was.

It was all real.

Jason pulled away from Lily with a satisfied smirk. Then he turned to me, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

"Now, be a good girl and sign the papers, Emma," he said, his tone mocking and gave me another copy.

Noah, still holding his toy, turned to me with pleading eyes. "Yeah, Mommy. Sign it. Sign it now, please!"

Happy?

They already looked happy.

Like a perfect family. Double betrayal. A knife straight through my heart.

I stumbled backward, my vision swimming with unshed tears.

“I—I need to be alone,” I choked out.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and rushed to my room, slamming the door behind me. And then I broke. I collapsed onto the floor, my body wracked with silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

I had lost everything. My husband. My son. My family.

Why? Why wasn’t I enough?

Why was I the one suffering while they got to be happy?

I curled into myself, the pain in my head throbbing violently, mixing with the unbearable ache in my heart. I didn’t know how long I lay there, drowning in despair, before I fumbled for my phone.

There was only one person left I could call. With shaking hands, I dialed. The line rang twice before a familiar, steady voice answered.

"Emma?"

A choked sob escaped me. "Ethan… please help me."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

"Emma, what happened?" His voice was tight with concern.

"Jason… Noah… they—" My throat tightened. "They don’t need me anymore. I have nothing left, Ethan. Nothing."

"Emma, listen to me," Ethan said firmly. "You have me. And I’m not going to let you go through this alone."

Tears spilled down my face.

"Come to me," he urged. "I’ll help you disappear. I’ll get you out of there."

A pause. Then his voice softened.

"And… there’s something else. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but you need to know."

I wiped my tears, trying to focus. "What is it?"

"Our hospital is running a clinical trial," Ethan said. "A new experimental treatment for brain cancer. It’s risky, but it’s your best chance."

I froze.

"You knew?" I whispered.

"I had a suspicion," he admitted. "I saw your medical records, Emma. I know you’ve been trying to fight this alone."

My chest ached.

“Come to me,” Ethan pleaded. “Let me help you, Emma. Not just with the trial—but with everything. Let me take you away from all of this.”

I clutched the phone tightly, my heart pounding. This was it. My chance to leave. To escape this nightmare. To fight for myself. I took a deep breath, my decision made.

"I’m coming, Ethan.”