My husband claimed his mistress suffered from severe seasonal depression. Every autumn, her mood would plummet, and she would threaten to end her life.

For her, he would cancel three months of work and fly to Europe to help her "relax."

"Elara, Seraphina is in a dark place. Please, don't be upset."

I grew used to his three-month disappearance each year.

Until I went to Monaco for an art auction and saw a five-year-old girl by his side.

"Daddy, why do you only spend three months with Mommy and me every year? I want more, much more time."

My husband picked her up dotingly, then took the hand of Seraphina, who stood beside them.

"Daddy's situation is complicated, sweetheart. There's nothing I can do about it right now. Be a good girl, Stella. When you turn eighteen, Daddy will take you back to Chicago to meet your grandparents."

Without a word, a plan began to form in my mind. I turned and walked away, pretending I had seen nothing.

Autumn passed and winter arrived. My husband called me.

"Seraphina's condition has stabilized. I'll be back tomorrow."

I glanced at the coffin and the prenuptial vow I'd had prepared long ago. A cold smile touched my lips.

"Good. I'll prepare a welcome for you."

————————

1

It was afternoon at the port of Monte Carlo. My gaze was fixed on the three figures lounging on the deck of a private yacht.

My husband, Dante Falcone, was playing on the deck with a little girl.

"Daddy, why do you only spend three months with Mommy and me every year? I want more, much more time."

A dull roar filled my ears, and my head went numb.

Since when did Dante have a child?

I must have misheard.

Or… maybe he doted on Seraphina's daughter, had even made her his goddaughter. In her innocence, the child had simply misspoke.

Seraphina snuggled against Dante's shoulder, her voice a whiny, coquettish complaint.

"I've been with you for seven years without any real status, Dante. Stella is five now. Are you really going to make us wait another thirteen years?"

Dante sighed, a note of helplessness in his voice.

"There's nothing I can do, Seraphina. The Falcone and Moretti families have intermarried for generations. Marrying Elara was a necessity. She will always be my wife, the future Donna of the Falcone family—though in name only. If she found out about you two, knowing the Morettis, I'm afraid of what they'd do to you."

He paused, his tone firming.

"Don't worry. According to Falcone family rules, a child has inheritance rights at eighteen. As my blood, Stella will be able to claim her inheritance then. By that time, even if Elara finds out, it'll be too late for her to do anything."

Seraphina seemed convinced. She sighed softly and stroked her own belly.

"Alright. But you can't have children with her. Otherwise, my Stella and the one in my belly will be cast aside in the future."

Dante gently placed a hand on Seraphina's still-flat stomach.

"Don't worry. Having Stella and this son is enough for me."

His voice dropped lower.

"As for Elara, I've been secretly switching her medication. She won't get pregnant. The Falcones are done being tied to the Morettis. This cursed bond ends with me."

Snap.

Something inside me snapped.

So that was it.

Six years of marriage, and no pregnancy. I had gotten myself checked; I was perfectly healthy, but I just couldn't conceive.

Donna Francesca had even offered me gentle comfort.

"Take your time. Having children depends on fate."

So, it was him pulling the strings all along.

The initial shock and heartache curdled into pure rage. My hands, trembling, balled into tight fists as I pulled out my phone.

"Aunt, Dante Falcone betrayed me. I'm invoking the Moretti family code."

"Have a coffin custom-made for me. One that can fit a family of three."

The next evening, I engineered a "coincidental" encounter at the private casino they frequented.

When Dante saw me, the smile on his face froze, replaced by a look of raw panic.

"Elara? What are you doing here?"

My smile never wavered as I strolled up and looped my arm through his.

"I was in Monaco for some family business and heard you were here as well. I couldn't resist stopping by to surprise you."

Dante laughed, a little unnaturally.

"It's a surprise, alright..."

Just then, a timid voice called out.

"Darling..."

Seraphina walked over, holding two stacks of chips. When she saw me, she froze, her face instantly turning deathly pale.

My gaze shifted to her, a playful smile touching my lips.

"Who are you calling 'darling'?"

Seraphina trembled, shaking her head frantically as she averted her eyes.

"No, Ms. Moretti, you misheard. I... I was calling for Dante."

She was so flustered that her Chicago accent slipped out.

I let out a soft laugh, my eyes fixed on her rosy cheeks.

"You seem to be recovering well, Miss Seraphina. Your complexion is lovely. It seems your 'seasonal depression' is much improved, I take it?"

Seraphina gave an awkward tug at the corner of her mouth.

"The weather has been nice lately... my condition has stabilized a bit."

Just then, the little girl came skipping over, hugging Dante's leg and calling out in a bright, clear voice.

"Daddy!"

That one word—"Daddy"—sent a chill through the air.

Panic flashed across Dante's face. He quickly bent down to the girl.

"Stella, you're saying it wrong. You should call me 'Godfather'!"

The little girl pouted, looking hurt. Before she could say another word, Seraphina darted forward and pressed the glass of whiskey she was holding to her daughter's lips, trying to silence her.

"Quick! Go play over there, don't bother us while we're talking!"

The girl choked and frowned, protesting in discontent.

"Mommy, no! I don't want whiskey! That's for Daddy!"

All the blood drained from Seraphina's face. She fumbled to hand over another glass of juice.

"Go, go, let's go play over there..."

"Stop."

I spoke softly.

The three of them froze. Seraphina's back was trembling slightly.

I slowly walked forward, unclasped the necklace from my neck, and handed it to the little girl.

"A gift for our first meeting. I came unprepared, so please take this."

The girl looked at the necklace curiously and said with childlike bluntness.

"This... looks like a bullet."

"You have a good eye."

I nodded in approval, my tone calm.

"It is. A bullet. Someone once tried to kill Dante, and I took it for him. This was pulled from my arm."

The girl's eyes widened, filled with the kind of worship a child has for a hero.

"Wow, you're so cool! You took a bullet!"

Hearing about the past, Dante frowned, a flicker of emotion stirring within him.

He finally broke the silence, his voice strained with feigned composure.

"Elara, that's our memento. It's important. Don't you think it's inappropriate to give it to a child?"

I turned back to him, my smile turning predatory.

"What's inappropriate? Didn't she call you 'Godfather'? By that logic, she should call me 'Godmother.' Isn't it only right for me to give my goddaughter a gift at our first meeting?"

My gaze shifted to the ashen-faced Seraphina.

"Right, Miss Seraphina?"

Seraphina's lips trembled as she forced a smile that looked more painful than a sob.

Just then, the little girl rummaged through her small backpack, pulled out a ring, and handed it to me.

"Auntie, this is for you!"

My blood ran cold. My expression instantly darkened.

It was an emerald ring with a piece of gold embedded in the center, engraved with the secret crest of the Moretti family.

It was part of the dowry my mother had left me, an heirloom passed down through generations of Moretti daughters.

It had vanished last year. I had used all my connections and even filed a police report, but couldn't find it.

So, he had stolen it to give to his bastard daughter.

The moment Dante saw the ring, his face changed dramatically.

"Elara, listen. This is a high-end replica, not the one you lost! I just liked the design, so I had a copy made for the kid to play with..."

He shot a vicious glare at Stella, his tone harsh.

"Stella, take it back! It's just a cheap copy, she won't want it!"

He reached out, intending to snatch the ring back.

But I was faster. I grabbed the ring and closed it in my fist.

"No, I like it very much."

Seeing the blood drain from both his and Seraphina's faces, I added slowly.

"The one my mother gave me is gone. It's nice to have this replica as a keepsake, isn't it?"

I pretended to examine it closely, then let out a soft laugh.

"The color of this emerald... it's a convincing imitation. It's just the workmanship, the pattern is blurry... Just as I thought. A fake is a fake. It can never pass for the real thing."

Dante's taut nerves relaxed slightly, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Yes, of course. How could it compare to yours?"

Hearing this, Seraphina looked ill. She raised a hand to her forehead and collapsed against Dante, her body going limp as her voice grew weak.

"Dante, I feel dizzy... so unwell..."

I watched her clumsy performance with cold eyes, not a ripple of emotion in my gaze.

Dante, however, was frantic. He shoved me aside, scooped Seraphina into his arms, and shot me a venomous glare.

"I'm taking Seraphina to rest. She's not well and needs quiet! You... you stay away from us!"

I watched the three of them hurry away and disappear around the corner.

I stood frozen.

I looked down at the ring in my palm. How many other things had Dante hidden from me over the years?

I took out my phone and contacted a local partner.

"Julian, it's me. Arrange for the best private investigators..."