The Blackthorn family dinner was, as always, both lavish and suffocating.

I wore a conservative black gown, my arm linked with my brother Luca’s, staying quietly by his side.

“You seem different tonight, Rachel,” Luca murmured. “You’re usually… on edge.”

He was right. On edge.

Because my eyes were always chasing one person across the room.

Tonight, I hadn’t even glanced toward the head table.

Evan Blackthorn was holding court, and beside him, in a pristine white evening gown, was Sofia Rossi.

They looked like a perfect couple.

Never mind that she was his brother’s widow. In our world, power is everything. Nobody cared about the details.

I could hear the low hum of approval around them.

“Evan, this must be your brother’s widow? A true beauty,” said the head of an allied family, raising his glass.

A faint smile touched Evan’s lips.

“Yes, this is Sofia.”

The portly man turned to her. “Mrs. Rossi, an honor. A toast to you.”

Sofia looked flustered, shrinking back behind Evan almost instinctively.

Evan immediately shielded her, taking her uninjured hand. His voice held a tone that could almost be described as doting.

“Sorry, Antonio. Sofia can’t drink today.” He held up her index finger, which had a small bandage on it, for everyone to see. “She cut it making breakfast for me this morning.”

A round of good-natured chuckles and suggestive whistles went through the crowd.

“Ooh, so that’s how it is!”

“Some guys have all the luck.”

Evan soaked it in, the smile on his face deepening.

Then, his eyes cut across the room and landed squarely on me.

The warm facade vanished, replaced by the cold, possessive command of Evan Blackthorn.

“Rachel,” he called my name. His voice wasn’t loud, but it silenced our entire corner of the room. “Come here. You’ll drink this for Sofia.”

Every eye was on me.

Curiosity. Scrutiny. Contempt.

I was the subordinate, trotted out to take a drink for the future lady of the house.

Luca’s face hardened. He took a step forward, shielding me.

“Boss, Rachel can’t—”

“Luca,” Evan’s voice went cold as steel. “That was an order.”

I couldn’t let Luca get in trouble for my sake. He was my brother, and I wouldn’t let him clash with the Don over me.

I gave Luca’s sleeve a gentle tug and shook my head.

Then I stepped out from behind him, walked to the portly man, and took the glass of whiskey from his hand.

“It is my honor to drink for Mrs. Rossi.”

I tilted my head back and downed the burning liquid in one go.

The liquor seared a path down my throat and into my stomach.

I set the glass down, my expression unchanged.

Sofia looked at me, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. "I'm so envious of Rachel. So capable, and so valued by Evan... I wonder, does Rachel have a man in her life? Any man would be lucky to have her."

Evan’s brow furrowed, clearly disliking the topic.

But I didn't flinch. I smiled and played along. "I don't have anyone, but Miss Rossi is right. It's probably time I start thinking about that."

Evan's face darkened the moment I said "I don't have anyone."

Sofia, pretending not to notice, tugged on his arm. "Evan, why don't you introduce her to someone? She's your loyal subordinate, after all."

I knew what she was doing. Testing his feelings for me.

Evan's fingers tightened around his glass, his knuckles turning white.

I sealed the deal, raising my empty glass. "That would be wonderful. I like gentle men."

His gaze was a knife, trying to skin me alive. I could feel the rage rolling off him. A tool that "belonged" to him was daring to have a life of its own.

But he couldn't lose it in front of everyone.

He forced the anger down, squeezing out a cold smile through gritted teeth. "Of course," he said, his eyes never leaving mine, but the words were for Sofia. "I'll personally find a suitable match for her. No one from the Blackthorn family can be allowed to marry down."

The dinner continued in that strange, tense atmosphere. Evan kept schmoozing with Sofia, but his mood was a thundercloud. I felt his eyes on me from time to time, but I ignored every single glance.

Later, I was in the restroom, fixing my makeup.

The door opened and Sofia walked in.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, the helpless, innocent look gone from her face.

“You’re a smart one, Rachel,” she said.

I ignored her and continued applying my lipstick.

She sauntered over, standing beside me. She looked at my reflection in the mirror, then her cheeks flushed slightly, and she adopted the tone of a girl sharing a secret.

“Evan… what does he like in bed? Since I’ll be… taking care of him from now on, I’d hate to not know his preferences.”

She paused, then added with pure venom, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

I clicked the lipstick shut, turned, and smiled at her.

The smile must have surprised her.

There was no anger, no jealousy. Only a calm that felt almost like pity.

I leaned in close to her ear and whispered, so only she could hear:

“Evan likes black lace.”

The next day was the family’s yacht party. The sea breeze was thick with the scent of salt and money.

The deck was a sea of designer clothes and champagne flutes as men discussed guns, territory, and deals.

Sofia was in her element today, a social butterfly flitting between Evan and the various capos.

She knew how to play her cards.

“Evan, I want to go to the bow and feel the wind, just like… just like when your brother was still alive.”

She was always dropping his dead brother into conversation. Evan’s brother was his greatest source of pain and guilt.

As expected, he couldn’t refuse her.

I stood by the railing, watching them walk to the front of the yacht, Evan gallantly draping his suit jacket over her shoulders.

That’s when the chaos started.

Someone screamed—they’d spotted a rival family’s boat approaching.

The party instantly devolved into panic. Bodyguards drew their guns, forming a perimeter around the bosses.

The crowd surged, shoving and pushing.

Someone slammed into me. I stumbled backward, crashing right into Sofia, who was running back from the bow.

She let out a piercing shriek and fell backward.

As she fell, her hand shot out, grabbing my arm in a death grip.

Before I could react, she pulled me over the railing with her, and we both plunged into the bone-chilling sea.

“Help! Somebody help!”

The icy water swallowed me whole, salt burning my nose and throat.

I thrashed, fighting to stay above the surface.

The deck was in chaos. I saw Evan rush to the side of the boat.

He saw me. And he saw Sofia, flailing a few yards away.

Without a second of hesitation, he ripped off his jacket and dived in.

For a single, stupid heartbeat, a tiny flicker of hope sparked inside me.

I was closer to him.

He’ll get to me first.

But Evan didn’t even glance in my direction.

He swam straight for Sofia.

I watched, paralyzed, as he pulled her into his arms, murmuring, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

It was just like the last time.

In my past life, I had a child.

It was Evan’s.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I thought if he knew, he might finally give me a place by his side.

But before I could tell him, I fell down a flight of stairs.

Blood soaked through my dress.

They rushed me to the hospital. The doctor said it was critical, that they needed a family member to sign off on the procedure.

My hands shaking, I called Evan, sobbing, begging him to come.

His voice on the other end was clipped with impatience.

“Rachel, I don’t have time for your little dramas.”

I could hear Sofia coughing weakly in the background.

“Sofia’s sick, she has a high fever,” he said. “She needs me. You just took a fall. Don’t be dramatic.”

Then he hung up.

I lost my baby on that cold operating table.

A child Evan never even knew existed.

Seawater filled my lungs. The feeling of drowning was suffocatingly familiar.

Thankfully, Luca was there in a flash, pulling me from the water.

I collapsed on the deck, coughing violently, spitting out saltwater.

Evan climbed aboard a moment later, carrying Sofia.

Evan came up moments later, carrying Sofia. He settled her down, making sure she was okay, before standing up and walking towards me.

“Rachel, are you—”

“Evan!” Sofia cut in, grabbing his arm. Her voice was shaky, but her eyes were filled with a deep, possessive love. “The way you came for me just now… it wasn’t just because of your brother, was it?”

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried.

The family members on deck froze, then their faces broke into knowing, benevolent smiles.

To them, it was perfectly natural. Sofia was from a good family, a powerful ally for the Blackthorns.

Someone started to hoot.

“Come on, Evan, you can’t deny that!”

“A match made in heaven!”

Evan didn’t deny it.

He just looked at Sofia in silence, his expression complicated.

I pushed myself up, my body trembling and soaked. I was a complete wreck, but a bright, beautiful smile spread across my face.

I started to clap.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The sharp, clear sound cut through the noise on deck.

Meeting Evan’s shocked gaze, I smiled at them both.

“Congratulations,” I said, my voice ringing with false cheer. “You two are a perfect match.”

The color drained from Evan’s face. He stared at me in disbelief, a storm of fury gathering in his grey eyes.

He leaned in, his voice a low, vicious snarl only I could hear.

“Are you insane, Rachel?”

Beneath the rage, I could hear a trace of panic in his voice.

“Have you forgotten what you and I are?”