I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen.

But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment.

The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens.

Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker.

"Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?"

I froze. Alex was here?

A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?"

It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards.

He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims.

Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company.

I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise.

Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button.

Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony.

The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides.

Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die.

Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die."

He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me.

They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen.

But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment.

The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens.

Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker.

"Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?"

I froze. Alex was here?

A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?"

It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards.

He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims.

Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company.

I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise.

Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button.

Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony.

The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides.

Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die.

Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die."

He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me.

They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

...

They threw me onto the docks. Hard.

Rain soaked through my white dress in an instant.

I struggled to get up, but my hands were tied behind my back. A black hood was over my head.

Seven months pregnant, my swollen belly was an anchor, dragging me down.

"Let the games begin!" a voice boomed over the speakers, buzzing with excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, scum of the city! Welcome to the Dockside Deathmatch! Tonight's contestants? Ten Russian rats caught sniffing around our territory!"

Spies? Assassins?

That wasn't me! I'm Valentina! I'm Alex's wife!

I tried to scream, but fear had stolen my voice.

"Place your bets now! Who will die next?"

Giant searchlights suddenly flooded the entire dockyard.

Steel containers were arranged like a maze, offering cover for the hunted.

I heard the footsteps of others, all running for their lives.

A woman’s scream echoed from the distance, then stopped cold.

"The Boss has placed a bet!" The voice on the speaker was mocking. "Thirty million dollars! On the crazy pregnant one!"

My heart stopped.

Alex was here?

My Alex?

"What a cold bet, Boss," a voice chimed in with a chuckle. "Thirty million in easy money! Look at that belly. She can barely even run!"

Then, I heard that sickly sweet voice.

"Oh, Alex, you always know how to pick them," she cooed, the sound of it making my stomach turn. "That one looks like she’ll be the next to go. You’re so clever, thinking just like me."

The princess of the Chicago Outfit.

The woman who was obsessed with my husband.

"You always know how to please me," she said, her voice dripping with a smug, triumphant laugh.

I waited for Alex to shut her down.

To push her away, to reject her with his usual coldness.

But this time, there was nothing.

Only a suffocating, crushing silence that was broken when I finally tore a hole in my hood and looked up at the main viewing screen.

I saw it all.

Scarlett leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder, a possessive, intimate gesture.

And he didn't push her away.

He just sat there, his arm resting casually on the back of her chair, letting her stay close.

It felt like a hand was squeezing my heart, forcing the blood back into my veins.

Tears blurred my vision.

The rain hitting the hood made it almost impossible to breathe.

The memory hit me.

Three years ago. Lincoln Center. A handsome stranger blocked my path, asked me to dance, and bought me a private fireworks show.

I learned his name later. The most dangerous man in New York.

I tried to run. But he was relentless. Bouquets of lilies after every performance.

Then, one rainy night, he knelt on those same steps.

"Give up this life for you," he’d sworn. "Marry me."

I believed the man kneeling in the rain.

I believed the love in his eyes. A liar.

Gunshots pulled me back to the present.

Someone screamed. Someone else fell. The smell of blood mixed with the salty stench of the sea, and I felt sick.

"Ten remain!" the announcer shouted. "Time to up the stakes! Unleash the hounds!"

My blood ran cold.

I'm terrified of dogs.

Alex knew that. He knew about the stray that bit me when I was a kid.

A loud grinding noise echoed as most of the containers were pushed flat. Our cover was disappearing.

This wasn't a chase anymore. It was a deathtrap.

I desperately tried to pull off the hood. The rope cut into my wrists, drawing blood. I finally tore a small hole.

Rain hit my face. I looked up at the nearest security camera.

With all my strength, I made the gesture—my index finger tapped my heart, then pointed to the sky.

Our secret sign.

"My heart is always with you."

He taught it to me. He said it was just for us.

The broadcast went silent for a few seconds.

Time seemed to stand still.

Then I heard Alex's hesitant voice. "That pregnant woman's face... why does she look so much like my wife?"

A flicker of hope ignited in me.

He recognized me! I could get out of this nightmare...

"Alex," Scarlett's voice turned sharp. "Among these killers, the pregnant ones are masters of disguise. She's here for you!"

She didn't pause, her voice cold and mocking. "They study your weaknesses. They know what you value most. How could Valentina possibly be here? She's at home, waiting peacefully to give birth!"

No!

I shook my head wildly, trying to tear off the rest of the hood.

The ropes dug into my skin, but the pain of Alex's next words was worse.

"That damn killer!" Alex roared. "She dares to use my wife's face to play mind games!"

"Make her pay for that insult!"

"Release all the hounds! Now!"

The iron gates burst open.

Thirty huge Dobermans shot out like black lightning.

Their snarls echoed in the rainy night.

I turned and ran, but my pregnant body was clumsy, useless.

Every step was agony. The baby inside me seemed to sense the danger, kicking frantically.

The first dog tackled me.

Sharp teeth sank into my ankle. The pain made me scream.

The smell of blood filled the air.

I curled up, trying to protect my stomach, and felt a warm liquid run down my leg.

Was it blood? Or my water breaking?

My baby... my baby...

"Haha! That stupid pregnant bitch!" a voice cackled over the speaker. "Serves her right for trying to be an assassin!"

"Her old man must be a real piece of work! Not every guy worships his pregnant wife like the Boss does!"

Every word was a knife in my heart.

More dogs piled on.

The pain was so intense I couldn't even scream anymore. I didn't know if my face was covered in tears, blood, or rain.

I looked helplessly at the camera.

I could almost see Scarlett, leaning against Alex, smirking.

She had finally gotten what she wanted.

I couldn't believe this was the same man who was rubbing stretch mark oil on my belly just last night.

The same man who pressed his ear to my stomach to listen to the baby move, whispering, "Come out soon, little one. Daddy will love you and Mommy forever."

Now he was letting me die here.

Letting me and his child die here.

I heard more gunshots from all around. More Dobermans emerged from the darkness.

Despair washed over me.

Was this it? Was I going to die here? I closed my eyes, helpless.

Then, Scarlett's sweet, cruel laugh echoed from the control room.

She pressed the button for the microphone.

"Honey, don't let the dogs kill her. I have other ideas. I'm not done playing yet."

The sound of tearing flesh and growling dogs stopped.

I lay in a pool of blood and water, covered in wounds.

"This pregnant one can't last much longer," Scarlett's voice came over the speakers, filled with a sick excitement.

"That belly's ripe for the picking. Let's cut her open. See if it's a boy or a girl."

My blood ran cold.

A paralyzing fear seized me.

"No!" I screamed. "No! Please! I'm begging you!"

I hugged my stomach, as if that could protect my unborn child.

The broadcast went silent for a few seconds.

Then came Alex's low voice.

"Forget cutting her open."

A tiny spark of hope.

He had a line. He wouldn't hurt the baby.

"The killer can die for all I care," Alex continued. "But leave the belly. It’s bad luck to harm an unborn child. My own is due any day."

The hope died instantly.

He wasn't protecting me.

In his eyes, I was just some damn killer.

"You're no fun," Scarlett said, her voice laced with disappointment.

But she quickly perked up.

"I have a better idea, though."

"These assassins have been hiding in New York for a long time, targeting our family. Since we're not killing the pregnant one, I'll interrogate her myself."

"I'll dig out every secret she knows."

My heart sank to the floor.

"Do what you want," Alex replied, his voice indifferent.

A few guards ran over and grabbed my arms roughly.

"No!" I struggled. "Alex! I'm Valentina!"

No one listened.

They dragged me into a shipping container that had been converted into an interrogation room.

The heavy iron door slammed shut.

A single, harsh light bulb hung over a chair in the center of the room.

They tied me to the chair and finally ripped the hood off my head.

A few minutes later, the door opened.

Scarlett walked in, poured into a tight black leather outfit.

Her eyes gleamed with a twisted excitement.

"We finally meet," she said, circling me. "Let's get a good look at the killer who dares to impersonate Valentina."

She crouched in front of me, studying my face.

"The disguise is good, I'll give you that. Almost the real thing."

"I'm not a killer!" I cried. "I'm Valentina! I'm Alex's wife!"

Scarlett burst out laughing.

"Still acting? You really think he loves you?"

She leaned close to my ear, her whisper laced with venom.

"He can't even recognize you. And even if he doesn't want to kill the baby in your belly for the sake of that face, you're not leaving here alive today."

My eyes widened.

"It was you... you set all of this up?"

Scarlett smiled, pleased with herself.

"You're just figuring that out?"

Scarlett smirked, deliberately lifting her wrist to show off a brand-new, diamond-encrusted bracelet—one I recognized from a design Alex.

“He came to me last night after you were asleep.” She stepped closer. 'I told him I was in a terrible mood, that nothing in New York was fun. So you know what he did? He arranged this whole game, just for me. While you’ve been running for your life, he’s been right here, holding my hand and making sure I’m entertained.'"

Every word was a dagger in my heart.

"He only loves you for these hands, right?" Scarlett said, grabbing my hand with a vicious grip.

"Let's see what he likes about you after I destroy them!"

She walked to the wall and picked up a hammer.

The heavy iron head glinted under the light.

"No!" I struggled wildly. "Don't touch my hands!"

"It's the only thing I have! It's my life!"

Scarlett slammed my right hand onto the table.

"Your life?" she sneered. "An assassin doesn't get to talk about art."

She raised the hammer high.

From the control room, Alex watched the screen.

I looked desperately at the camera.

"Alex! Look at me! It's me, Valentina!"

The hammer came down.

"CRACK. The sound of my own bone snapping shot up my arm."

"Aaargh!"

My index finger bent at an impossible angle. The pain almost made me pass out.

"That's for the first finger," Scarlett said, raising the hammer again. "Nine more to go."

The second blow landed. Middle finger.

The third. Ring finger.

Each impact was met with my blood-curdling screams.

In the control room, a frown creased Alex's face.

"'She's got guts for an assassin,' he said, his voice cold as ice. 'Finish it.'"

The fourth blow.

The fifth.

My right hand was ruined. Five fingers twisted into unnatural shapes.

Blood stained the tabletop.

The agony was so intense I felt like I was going into early labor. My stomach contracted violently, and more fluid ran down my legs.

"Now for the left," Scarlett said, lifting the hammer.

"No!" I screamed with my last ounce of strength.

"Alex!"

My voice tore through the night.

"Look at me! Look at who I am!"

In the control room, the cigar in Alex's hand suddenly snapped.

He stared at the screen, his brow furrowed.

"Wait."

His voice held a trace of uncertainty.

"That voice... it's identical to my wife's."

The interrogation room door was kicked open.

Alex stormed in.

The pool of blood beneath me was growing, staining the entire chair red.

"Alex!" I reached for him with my mangled hand.

But Scarlett quickly stepped between us.

"Don't go near her!" she yelled, grabbing Alex's arm. "This killer has studied you too well!"

"She probably had plastic surgery to look like Valentina! She even copied her voice!"

Alex stopped.

"You protect Valentina so well, they knew that was your weak spot," Scarlett pressed on. "The second you get close, they'll find a way to kill you!"

"No!" I cried out in despair. "I'm Valentina! I'm your wife!"

Scarlett turned and walked toward me.

Her hands started patting me down.

"Just as I thought!"

She pulled a small metal device from my clothes.

"A pressure-plate bomb!"

She held it up high for Alex to see.

Then she slapped me hard across the face.

"Damn killer! Trying to blow up my man!"

Alex's face darkened instantly.

He turned away in disgust, as if he'd seen something vile.

"How could I fall for a trick like that?"

"Maybe there isn't even a baby in her belly," Scarlett said venomously. "Or maybe the baby's already dead and she's packed with explosives. We should cut her open and check."

This time, Alex said nothing.

His silence was permission.

"Doctor!" Scarlett yelled.

A doctor in a surgical mask walked in, holding a scalpel and anesthesia.

"No anesthetic," Scarlett stopped him. "I want her awake."

The doctor hesitated for a second, then nodded.

Alex turned to leave.

Just then, his phone rang.

"Boss?" It was the butler's voice. "The missus disappeared on her way to the concert hall."

Alex laughed.

"Her due date is today. She must have gone into labor and been taken to the hospital."

His voice was filled with excitement and anticipation.

"Clear out the jewelers! Find every doctor in this city! Find out which hospital my wife is in! Now!"

"I'm going to be a dad!"

He was as giddy as a child.

He didn't notice that behind him, a scalpel was already slicing into my stomach.

"Aaaargh!"

The pain almost made me black out.

The doctor quickly gave me a shot of adrenaline.

"This will keep you wide awake," he muttered.

The blade cut deep into my abdomen. Blood gushed out.

I could feel my life draining away.

Just as I thought I was about to die, I heard it.

A baby's cry.

Faint, but clear.

My heart nearly stopped.

"My baby!" I screamed with my last bit of strength. "Let me see my baby!"

But Scarlett clamped her hand over the baby's mouth and nose.

The crying stopped.

She tossed the tiny body into a trash bag.

"Nothing to see," she sneered. "Too bad. Stillborn."

My heart died.

My tears ran dry.

My soul shattered.

Scarlett pulled out a fake bomb she'd prepared, smeared it with my blood, and ran out to find Alex.

"I was right! She had a stillborn, and she really was rigged with a bomb!"

Outside the door, Alex was still on the phone, ecstatic.

"Buy Valentina the best jewelry! And arrange a private concert! Give her anything she wants!"

Anything she wants.

I lay on the operating table and let out a bitter laugh.

Nothing I wanted mattered anymore. Our story was over. Written in blood.

The heart monitor next to me beeped weaker and weaker.

Alex and Scarlett's voices faded into the distance.

I thought I was about to die.

"I can't just let you die," the doctor suddenly whispered.

He injected me with an anesthetic.

"Hold on. I'm getting you to a hospital."

The wail of a siren grew closer.

As they wheeled me out of the interrogation room, I was already drifting off.

Rain fell on my face.

I felt something cold against my neck.

The necklace.

The one Alex had just given me for my birthday.

Engraved on it were the words: "My Love."

My love. How ironic.

Just as the gurney was about to be loaded into the ambulance, I heard Alex's sharp voice.

"Wait!"