Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public.

Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. Every arms deal went through me.

After? Just another housewife. Swapped my holster for an apron. Kitchen counter became my war zone.

He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother.

I got it. So I gave it all up—for his Family, for that kid.

The Family blew up fast. The kid? Went from blank stares to sharp comebacks. Even started talking.

But Leon still kept me in the dark.

His mother wouldn't quit. "Give him a healthy heir. He'll settle down."

I thought maybe she was right. I clung to him for a few nights.

I got pregnant.

Came home with the results, ready to tell him—

Then I heard his "autistic" brother ask, clear as day:

"Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"

Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public.

Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. After? My name vanished from the meeting roster.

He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother, Antonio.

So I did it all—brought that boy from blank stares to full-on smiles.

His family kept pushing for a "real heir."

And today, just when I was about to tell him I was pregnant, I caught Antonio asking,

"Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"

***

I froze outside the study, clutching the report—two months pregnant. Healthy fetus. My whole body went cold.

"Don't call me that," Leon's voice was low, sharp. "I'm your brother. Who told you I'm dumping Anna and marrying someone else?"

Antonio stared at the floor. "Ms. Vitti said... you're gonna leave Anna and marry her. She told me to call her Mom."

I crumpled the paper in my fist.

"That's a damn lie," Leon snapped. "I'm not divorcing Anna. Carla's business, that's it."

I leaned against the wall, letting out a shaky breath.

Leon sucked at feelings, sure. But cheat? I never thought he'd go there.

And Antonio calling him "Papa"? He was behind for his age. Carla was definitely twisting his head.

I figured I'd tell Leon about the pregnancy first—ease into the rest after.

I reached for the doorknob.

Yanked back.

"The banquet's starting. You just loitering around now?" Marcella, Leon's mother, all venom and pearls, glared like I'd spit on the floor.

"I—" I tried handing her the report.

She turned her back, full of disgust. "Change. You look like hell. A Don's wife should dress like one."

Voices called from downstairs.

I tucked the report into my clothes.

I'd talk to Leon after the show.

***

Silverware gleamed. The air reeked of truffle and cigars.

I lingered in the shadows, watching the same people I used to sit next to at negotiation tables gab about politics. My eyes gave me away—I missed it.

Seven years. From Consigliere to housewife—banquets, babysitting, elder care. That was my kingdom now.

But I still hadn't earned the seat at Leon's right—the one that should've been mine, as his wife.

Maybe once there was an heir, he'd finally stop hiding me.

Bang!

The front doors slammed open.

A few heads turned, annoyed—then snapped on fake smiles.

"Sorry I'm late! So sorry, everyone!"

Carla Vitti. Principessa of the Vitti Family. Her perfume hit the room before she did—roses and ego.

She strutted straight to Leon, soaking in the attention.

But I remembered—she wasn't even invited. We didn't set a place for her.

Leon didn't blink. Just nodded for someone to grab another chair.

"No need," she said, eyes flicking to me before flashing Leon that polished smile. "Isn't there one open? Right next to you?"

Leon set down his wine glass, smirk unreadable. "That seat's not for you. I've arranged something better."

Carla laughed, low and smug, and pulled the chair out anyway, dropping into it like she owned it.

"I'm pretty sure this is exactly what I want."

Leon didn't stop her. He poured her a glass himself.

Silence hit the room. Everyone knew what that move meant.

Antonio looked at me from the shadows, face pale.

He didn't get grown-up lies yet, but even he knew what that seat meant in a mafia family.

My ears started ringing.

The fake smiles, Carla's giggles, Leon's silence—it all made me sick.

I ran to the restroom and threw up until there was nothing left, then splashed cold water on my face.

The girl in the mirror looked wrecked. Pale. Eyes puffed. Hands shaking.

"Tsk. Pathetic."

I spun.

Carla stood in the doorway, smirking without a hint of shame.

"Seven years ago, you skimmed forty percent off my family's shipping as Ferrante's Consigliere. Now look at you—crying in a bathroom."

She strutted in, heels clicking, eyes sweeping over my bare face and tired skin.

"Oh wait—should I call you Donna Ferrante? Even though it's all hush-hush?"

I turned away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows why you vanished. You gave up everything to play maid for Leon. Women like you? No spine, no talent—just leeching off men for a title. And look at you now. Pathetic. If I were you—"

Antonio's voice echoed from the hall, calling for his lullaby.

I pushed past her. "Move. The kid needs to sleep."

"Slow down, stupid woman." Carla yanked my wrist. "What, raising someone else's bastard got you hooked?"

My head snapped. I tore free, heart pounding. "Say that again."

She didn't even blink. Just pulled a paper from her bag and smacked it against my face.

"See for yourself."

A birth certificate.

The mother's name was blacked out. The father?

[Leon Ferrante.]

Registered seven years ago.

Antonio's birthday.

My vision tunneled. I grabbed the wall before I hit the floor.

That "Papa"... was real.

Carla's smile stretched as the color drained from my face.

"Wanna know why Leon ditched the kid's mother?" She tilted her head. "She was a nobody. Third-rate Family. Just like you."

She gave me a slow, disgusted once-over.

"And you? Even worse. Couldn't even hold onto your baby. His mother's been pushing him to drop you—she's hated you for years. Why do you think I'm here tonight? Because he and his Family already picked me."

My ears were ringing.

Three years ago, a crash stole the baby I was four months along with.

Leon and I both mourned—but how the hell did she know?

She leaned in, reeking of something sweet and sick. "Only I'm fit to be the wife of the strongest Don. I'm the one who'll give him the real heir. Be smart, back off. Don't make me shove."

I heard Antonio's voice getting closer.

Carla stepped away. I stared her down. She gave me that smug, fake-sympathy smile.

"Fine," she said. "See it for yourself. Ten tonight. La Rosa Nera. You'll get your truth."

She strutted off.

I didn't show my face again till the banquet wrapped.

Soon as Antonio spotted me, he broke from the maid and grabbed my hand.

"Anna, you sick?"

I faked a smile. His face—pure Leon.

But he wasn't to blame for any of this.

"I'm okay, baby."

I walked him to his room, tucked him in like always.

Then just sat there, staring.

For once, I didn't rush back.

Carla's words wouldn't quit spinning in my head—right alongside seven years of memories.

Back when we first got married, I got hit with a brutal fever. Leon stayed up all night taking care of me.

That wasn't his thing—he was always wrapped up in Don business.

But I'd mumbled in my sleep about missing Nonna's pasta, and he went all in—burned his hands trying to cook from her notes, wouldn't let anyone else feed me.

Anytime I got upset about hiding our marriage, he'd find ways to make me laugh, whispering that once things calmed down, he'd give me the biggest wedding in the world.

Even after we lost the baby... he broke too. But he still held me, over and over, swearing we'd try again.

But he kept saying 'healthy heir'...

Was that it? After Antonio, was he scared the next baby might be born the same?

"What's on your mind?"

That voice—familiar enough to make me flinch.

Leon stood in the doorway, velvet box in hand.

"For you." He dropped to one knee and popped it open. Inside? A diamond ring that could blind you.

"Biggest Karowe diamond this year. Just for kicks. When we have our real wedding, your ring'll be even crazier."

I stared at him—at that soft look in his eyes—and froze.

Could someone like this really lie to me?

"You don't like it?" His brow creased as he brushed my cheek. "You look pale."

"I..."

I wanted to tell him I was pregnant. Ask him about Antonio. About everything.

But before I could open my mouth, his phone lit up.

"Damn. Almost forgot—I got a meeting tonight. Might run late, don't wait up."

He kissed me goodnight and walked out.

If I hadn't seen that message—if I hadn't read [Old place] from Carla—I might've actually bought it. Might've believed he meant it.

At 9:50, I stood outside La Rosa Nera.

Members-only casino. I flashed the Family badge Leon gave me, and just like that, the staff snapped to attention. Respectful. Polite.

I walked in.

The lighting was low, moody. I scanned the place.

Then I saw him.

VIP section, half closed off. Leon, lounging on leather, whiskey swirling in his glass.

Across from him—Consiglieres and Underbosses from other Families. Serious faces. Looked like business.

I let out a breath. Was about to leave.

Then Carla strutted over with a drink, slid right into his lap.

I couldn't hear a word, but I saw enough.

His whole face softened. That smile—one he used to keep just for me.

Then he pulled her in, like it meant nothing, and kissed her like it did.

The room lit up with whistles and laughter.

Someone yelled, "Don Leon, when's the wedding with Signorina Vitti?"

That was it. I bolted.

Tears blurred everything as I stumbled down to the first floor, hands shaking.

Then I saw it—a fire alarm on the wall.

I didn't think. I slammed it.

Screams erupted behind me as alarms wailed.

I walked out without looking back.

Carla gave me the truth.

I gave her a drowned party.

Fair trade.

I stayed up until dawn, phone glowing in the dark.

Carla wouldn't quit posting.

[Soaked like a drowned rat! Good thing my darling Leon was there.]

She was wrapped in his jacket, shopping at some high-end boutique, drowning in diamonds. Way more than I ever got—all these years, not even close.

6:00 AM hit:

[Some nights... are so wild you never want the sun to rise.]

A pic of two hands tangled on hotel sheets. One had his tiger's eye ring. The one he never took off.

I shut the phone off, no sound, no tears.

Printed the divorce papers in the study.

Then, like always, I made breakfast for Antonio.

"Anna," he beamed, already dressed—for the first time ever. "Today's... my brother said... amusement park day. When's he coming back?"

Poor kid must've just crashed for an hour, tops.

"He's busy today." I faked a smile. No way I'd crush a boy who hadn't stepped outside in five years. "How 'bout I take you?"

His face fell a little, but he nodded. No fight in him.

At the park, Antonio was all over the place—eyes wide, energy cranked to ten.

He pointed at the massive roller coaster. "Anna, that one—I wanna ride it!"

I hesitated. He wasn't exactly built for this.

"Antonio, it's kinda tall. We—"

"No! I want to!" he snapped, cheeks flushing. "Ms. Vitti said... my brother took her! She called me a coward!"

Carla. Of course.

I bit back the heat rising in my chest and crouched to his level. "You're not a coward. But there's a height limit, and you're not quite there yet. Let's hit the carousel instead, yeah?"

He pouted but didn't argue. Let me lead him away.

I watched from the fence as he rode a white horse, spinning to tinny music, the tension finally sliding off his face.

Then—bam. Some guy in a baseball cap slammed into me.

"Ah!"

I stumbled back, purse flying, stuff everywhere.

"I'm so sorry!" he blurted, already down on the ground scooping everything up.

I didn't answer—just snapped my eyes to the carousel, scanning for Antonio.

He was already jumping off, running straight for me.

"Antonio! Don't run! Stay right there!" I yelled.

He didn't hear me. Just kept coming, face lit up.

Then—out of nowhere—an electric cart packed with drinks turned the corner, heading right for him.

"Watch out!"

I bolted.

Bang.

I shoved him clear, but the cart clipped me. Sent me flying.

"Anna!" Antonio's face crumpled. He ran over, bawling.

In the mess, I realized—baseball cap guy? Gone.

I took Antonio home, still rattled. Got him cleaned up, patched the scrape. Didn't even touch my own bruises when—

Bang!

The front door slammed open.

Marcella's voice sliced through the air. "Anna! You can't even take good care of a kid!"

Leon stormed in right behind her, ripped Antonio from my arms. His eyes locked on the scrape, jaw tight.

"Leon..." Antonio whimpered.

"It's okay. I'm here." Leon soothed Antonio, then turned to me, voice like ice. "I told you to take him out to relax, not get him hurt. What the hell were you thinking?"

Marcella scoffed. "Can't even handle a kid. What use are you? Our family never should've let trash like you in."

Seven years of silence. Last night's betrayal. The panic. This—this pushed me over.

"Basta!" I snapped. "YOUR family? Oh, right—the noble bloodline. Three generations of lies! Sons paraded as brothers. Grandsons passed off as sons!"

Marcella's face went stiff. She pointed at me, mouth open—but nothing came out.

Leon's grip on Antonio tightened. "What are you even saying?"

"What am I saying?" I let out a bitter laugh, yanked the crumpled paper from my pocket, and smacked it against his chest. "Seven-year-old birth certificate. Father: Leon Ferrante. Want me to read it for you?

"I've known. You dumped his mom 'cause her status wasn't good enough. And now? You're chasing the Vitti heiress, so I'm just the leftover maid, right?"

Leon's face twisted. He set Antonio down and stepped toward me.

"Anna, just calm down—"

"Calm down?" My voice cracked. "After you kissed her in public? Draped her in jewelry? Posted like you spent the damn night together?"

I lost it. The dam broke—tears flooding.

"For seven years, I gave up everything. I raised your kid like he was mine. Turns out I was just the help—free labor for your whole twisted family. And now you're ready to toss me out, make room for your next trophy?"

Leon froze—rattled. Panic flared in his eyes.

But it vanished just as fast.

He grabbed my wrist, tight. Sneered.

"And you're calling me a liar? You're Anna Rossi. Not even a Brioni. You think I didn't know? You were the one lying all along."