My husband Dante, Don of the Moretti family, was killed in a gang crossfire.

I was devastated, because the same day, I’d also found out that my IVF injection had worked. I was pregnant.

The Moretti didn’t want me to spiral. So they called in Dante’s twin brother, Ash Moretti, to help around.

I felt both guilty and grateful until I overheard them talking in the study.

“It was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper it was you?” His father asked.

Dante’s voice. “I only married her because you promised me the Don’s seat.”

Then Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That alone should’ve been enough.”

So. It wasn’t my husband who died. It was his brother. And my husband and his sister in law thought this was his clean exit.

As he wished, I gave it to him.

When the doctor told me the fetus had less than a ten percent chance of survival, I agreed to terminate.

And along with reclaiming everything else I had once given the Moretti, I walked away from his life—for good.

Harper’s POV

My husband, Dante Moretti, was killed at a routine drug meeting two months ago. Since then, the Moretti called in his twin brother, Ash, to take over—not just Dante’s responsibilities in the family business, but also the role of… accompanying me.

I hated the idea of dragging innocent people into the fallout of my life.

So today, I came by wanting to tell them I was ready to handle things on my own.

Before I could knock on the door, I heard voices coming from the study.

“Dante,” Nicholas asked, voice low, “it was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper that it was you? You’re twins, yes, but identical or not—they’ll figure it out.”

Then came the voice I had believed belonged to Ash. Except it wasn’t.

It was Dante. Alive. And speaking like this was all a minor inconvenience.

Father, you know I never loved her. The only reason I marry her was because you promised me the seat of Don and the family business.”

He exhaled, almost wistful. “Now that Ash is gone, this is finally my chance to be with Gianna. I have to take it.”

Nicholas hesitated. “And Harper? She just got pregnant.”

Her IVF worked,” Then came Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That’s more than enough.”

If I hadn’t heard it myself, I would’ve thought it was a bad TV script.

My husband, the infamous Don of the Moretti family—the man I’d loved for over half a decade—had faked his own death just so he could crawl back to his childhood sweetheart, now his sister in law.

And more, everyone in this family had knew about this and decided to lie to me as well.

I took a step back, unsteady.

I was the woman who poured wealth into the Moretti and made this name louder than it used to be. And yet, to them, to Dante, I was nothing. Disposable. Replaceable.

But what if she finds out?” Nicolas’s voice.

“Smart? Finds out?” Gianna scoffed. “I still remember the day Dante walked in as ‘Ash.’ The look on her face—God, I’ll never forget it. She’s just a love sick fool. Lucky to have the Quinn as her name, and a big bank account that comes with it.”

“We still have to be cautious though,” Dante said quickly. “I have to stay with her as Ash. That’s the plan.”

Gianna’s tone snapped, “I don’t like you being that close to her.”

“Babe… I have to. It’s the whole point of pretending to be Ash and coming back as him.” Dante’s voice softened, almost pleading.

“I don’t care.” Her voice pitched higher. “I want you here, with me. What—are you worried she’ll stop giving the Moretti money? Please. She’s just a dumb bitch who couldn’t even tell her ‘husband’ was his twin brother. What is there to worry about?”

She paused, “Wait—Dante, are you making excuses so you can actually go back to her side and spend more time with her?”

“Of course not. Every second with her disgusted me,” Dante said without a hint of hesitation.

My heart stopped for a beat. Really, Dante? Every second?

“That’s right,” Gianna cooed. “You told me yourself—you only married her because she was rich and could secure you the Don’s seat.”

Dante swore, “I only love you, Gianna. It’s always been you. Only you. No one else.”

My stomach lurched. I clamped a hand over my mouth and bolted to the guest restroom.

I threw up until my ribs ached. By the time I finished, my knees gave out, sliding me down to the cold floor.

Sitting there, shaking, I tried to make sense of the last three months. Searching for signs. hints. Anything that could’ve warned me.

I still remembered that day—coming home from the hospital with the pregnancy results in my hand.

I’d been so happy. After ten failed IVF cycles, after crying and begging the doctor for one more chance even though my body was exhausted… it had finally worked.

Then, the same day, the Moretti called to tell me that Dante had died on a mission.

I fainted.

When I woke up, I was already inside the old Moretti mansion. A man stood next to my bed—same sharp jawline, same dark eyes. The only difference was that tiny mole beneath his right eye.

“Harper,” he said softly. “It’s me, Ash.”

I believed him then. Because it never crossed my mind that the man I loved for more than ten years would rather die—pretend to die—than stay with me.

…

The truth was, I hadn’t loved Dante this deeply at first. Not even close. In fact, when I was younger and first heard that my father wanted me to marry him, I was furious.

Dante Moretti? Arrogant, bossy, impossible? Absolutely not.

After I rejected him, Dante didn’t push back on the marriage alliance though. He started showing up more. More calls. More visits. Asking me to dinner, etc.

I turned him down almost every time.

Then that accident happened… I was twenty then. I’d just finished my last class of the day and decided to ditch my guard and walk home instead of ride.

It was a whim. A bad one.

Some men claimed to be the rivals to the Quinn took me.

Three days, I was locked away. They didn’t hurt me—because they knew better than hurting a Quinn. But they made sure I suffered.

Just as I was desperate, Dante arrived. He came alone with just a pistol and a few bullets. But he took out every kidnapper and swept me off my feet.

I honestly thought that after everything, he’d reconsider our arranged marriage. I’d been kidnapped. People whispered. They speculated. They judged.

When I was ready to keep my heart a secret, Dante was… still being Dante. He kept showing up. Kept asking me out. Bringing me gifts. Eventually, I fell for it. I fell head over heels, completely, for Dante Moretti and I said yes to marrying him.

Hearing just now how Dante said that he never loved me and the only reason he married me was for the Don’s seat?

I realized I was just a fool. I fell for a man that only ever wanted my name, my money, my family’s legacy.

My stomach twisted again. Bitter. Acidic.

I pushed myself up from the cold tile floor, one shaky breath at a time, and pulled out my phone.

Fine. If this was the life he wanted—if Dante Moretti wanted to become dead and wear his brother’s face—then there’s nothing for me to be sad about.

I dialed the number. “Hey, it’s me. Delay this month’s investment. And I figured, now that Dante has died, maybe it’s time the Quinns take over.”

Harper’s POV

When Dante returned as Ash, he generously offered to move me back into the old Moretti mansion so he could “take better care of me” as my brother-in-law.

I couldn’t have been more grateful. He even put me in the room directly across the hall from his—where he and Gianna stayed.

Except now, thinking back, Dante hadn’t taken care of me for a single day. The best he ever did was stop by once in a while to ask how my pregnancy checkup had gone.

I used to think he was just busy—after all, Dante’s sudden “death” had left a mess for the family to clean up.

Now everything was all crystal clear. Moving me in was never about caring for me. It was about controlling me—the widow with the money.

And that whole performance of “taking care” of me? Just guilt-bait.

See? Your husband’s brother is looking after you. Shouldn’t you be grateful? Shouldn’t you give us more money?

To think I’d felt even a flicker of guilt—moved, for one stupid second—by all those lies. Rage surged through my chest like a second heartbeat, wild and unbearable, clawing to get out.

Just wait, Dante. Just wait. The day I walk out of here, I’m taking every single thing I ever gave this family with me.

…

When I got back to my room, I sat down and tried to breathe.

Leaving Dante and the Moretti—and taking my money with me—might’ve hurt them. It would’ve left a bruise, maybe even knocked the wind out of them for a while.

But ever since Dante took the Don’s seat, the Moretti had grown larger, stronger. Even stripped of my resources, he’d recover and rebuild eventually.

And the vengeful pulse in my chest told me bruising him wasn’t enough.

I didn’t want Dante and the Moretti inconvenienced. I wanted them ruined.

I wanted this family to fall—brick by brick, legacy by legacy—until Dante and Gianna had nowhere left to stand but at my feet, begging.

Starting with… Dante walked back into this house as “Ash.” Everyone already believed Ash was the gentle one, the soft-spoken brother who could never lead a mafia family.

I could use that. I’d gather support quietly, collect evidence, then force a family vote and strip “Ash Moretti” of any possibility of inheriting the Don.

Even better, I could take the seat myself. I was, after all, legally married to Dante Moretti. Legally entitled to inherit everything he “left behind” after his so-called death.

And with my father backing me—the first non-Moretti Don in Moretti history?

Oh, Dante would look like absolute shit. And Gianna? I could already picture her face.

I was still mapping this plan out in my mind when my phone buzzed.

Dr. Zane.

My heart skipped. I answered fast. “Hey, Dr. Zane. Is something wrong?”

Not the baby. My baby…

“Mrs. Moretti…” she hesitated. She never hesitated.

A chill climbed down my spine.

"We ran the most recent tests. And… the fetus has stopped growing.” Her voice went quiet. “Which means—”

Which means I failed again.” My hand dropped instinctively to my belly.

Did you hear him, too? My baby, did you hear what your father said—and decide not to come after all?

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over.

"I’m so sorry, Mrs. Moretti,” Dr. Zane said gently. “We suggest you come in today and run a few test.”

She’d been with me through it all. Every round of IVF. Every injection. Every heartbreak.

She knew how stubborn I was. That’s probably why she was speaking so carefully, afraid to break whatever pieces of me were still intact.

Zane added quietly, “I know what happened with Mr. Moretti. We still have a few of his samples stored here. If, in the future, you’d ever like to try again…”

“No,” I said softly, cutting her off. “I’ll come in tonight. And please—destroy whatever Moretti samples you have left. I won’t be needing them.”

The pain was still there. Sharp. Heavy.

But I knew what I had to do.

I placed a hand over my belly and whispered, “Maybe it’s for the best, little one. You deserve better than a man like that for a father. And as for me… I’m sorry. I should’ve protected you better.”

I wiped my face, steeled my spine.

Then came Dante’s voice from the hall. “Harper? Come downstairs. It’s dinner time.”

It would be the first time I saw them—her and him—since everything came crashing down.

I turned to the mirror. Stared at the reflection of the woman they thought they could break.

“You can do this, Harper,” I whispered. “Remember who you are.”

I pulled on a smile and headed downstairs.

…

Dante sat with Gianna tucked neatly at his side. Nicholas and Viola—his parents—occupied the opposite end of the table.

And they’d left me the head seat.

“Come, Harper. Sit,” Dante said, all warm concern, pulling my chair out like the perfect, considerate Ash.

Goosebumps prickled up my arms.

“Thanks,” I replied evenly, careful to let none of the discomfort reach my face.

"Harper, are you feeling unwell?” Viola asked, her voice sugar-sweet. “You don’t look like yourself.”

I smiled, lifting my water glass. “Nothing,” I said, taking a sip.

Across from me, Gianna was busy feeding Dante a piece of fruit from her bowl, then lifting a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. “Isn’t the fruit I feed you the sweetest in the world?” she cooed.

Dante leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You are the sweetest, babe.”

As if cue me to look at them, Gianna turned and said, “Oops, we forgot that we are not along right now.”

Dante caught my gaze from the corner of his eyes, “Harper, I heard you have a pregnancy checkup this evening. Do you want me to go with you?”

“Babe,” Gianna cut in smoothly, “did you forget you already promised me tonight? I’ve been waiting all week.”

She pouted, turning her face away like the wounded party.

Dante immediately reached for her hand, soothing her, then looked back at me. “My fault. I already made plans with my wife…”

Before he could stack on more excuses, I cut him off. “That’s alright. I can go myself. It’s not my first time.”

Gianna suddenly turned toward me. “You won’t hold it against us, right, Harper? You’re not going to run crying to your daddy about being mistreated here?”

She said it with a laugh—but the malice underneath was sharp enough to cut.

“Of course,” I replied, keeping my voice even.

Dante and his father, Nicolas, exchanged a glance before Dante spoke again. “Harper, I was wondering when’s your family’s next investment installment coming? After what happened to Dante, I thought about moving the business somewhere else, somewhere safer. So I have been looking into buying a casino.”

I said smoothly. “I just checked in with my father today. There’s going to be a delay in this month’s investment. Maybe I could have a tour of the casino first?”

Dante’s expression brightened instantly. “Would tomorrow work?”

He didn’t even hesitate—still so ready to use my love for “Dante,” even now.

“Alright,” I said with a small smile.

Just how good was this casino that he couldn’t wait a while longer? He was practically tripping over himself to show me—risking raising my suspicion in the process.

“Babe,” Gianna cooed, attracting Dante’s attention back. “My hand hurt, can you cut my steak for me?”

Dante blinked. Then—without a moment’s hesitation—he set down his glass, poured her wine, and began cutting her steak into neat, delicate pieces.

Gianna flashed a smile at me—too sweet, too bright—and I caught the taunt beneath it.

She was showing off. Showing me just how much Dante cared about her.

And even knowing Gianna was parading this side of him in front of me on purpose, it still landed like a slap to the face.

In all the years we were together, Dante never cut my food. Never hovered. Never looked at me the way he did her.

I used to think it was just who he was. Tough. Rough around the edges. The kind of man who showed his care with silence, not softness.

But watching him now?

It wasn’t that Dante didn’t know how to care for someone.

He just never wanted to care for me.

It was one thing to overhear it through a wall—another to watch that painful truth unfold right in front of me.

The nausea came fast, hot and violent.

I turned away, hand clamped over my mouth, gagging quietly at the table. Watching the two of them had made my stomach turn.

…

I went to the clinic that night for the check‑up. Dr. Zane told me it was better to wait for a few more days before scheduling the surgery.

I had just stepped out of her office when I saw someone familiar in the hallway.

Dante.

A strange mix of hope and disbelief flickered through me. Had he actually come after all?

But before I could take a single step toward him, Gianna appeared from another hallway—and Dante rushed straight to her.

“How was it?”

Gianna’s cheeks went pink. “The doctor said I wasn’t pregnant yet. Maybe I just ate something bad.”

Of course Dante didn’t come for me. What was I even thinking?

Gianna’s eyes landed on me, but she didn’t call my name right away.

Instead, she leaned in and kissed Dante. A long, deliberate kiss.

Only after pulling away—smiling like the cat who got the cream—did she finally speak.

“Oh! Harper, I didn’t see you there,” she said, all faux surprise. “You finished the checkup already?”

She’d seen me. And she knew I’d seen her too.

Dante followed her gaze. The moment his eyes landed on me, he hesitated. “I was going to call you after Gianna finished her appointment—see if you were done too. Maybe you could ride home with us?”

“I…” Before I could even finish, Gianna tugged lightly on his sleeve and interrupted. “Babe.”

He glanced at her, then back at me. “Right, I forgot, Gianna and I aren’t heading straight home. Maybe call yourself a cab?”

I looked at Gianna, smug and sheltered behind him, then back at Dante. “Mm.”

I watched the two of them disappear down the hall—Gianna leaning in to whisper something against Dante’s ear, both of them laughing the whole way.