Two days passed in a blur. When I returned to the Graystone estate, the world felt foreign. Too beautiful and clean for someone whose soul was dipped in tar and simmering with rage.

I knocked on the study door.

"Come in," my mother-in-law said, her tone slightly dismissive.

I pushed the door open and saw her writing a proposal.

[PROPOSAL FOR CO-WIVES]

Primary Wife: Serafina child-bearing

Secondary Wife: Bianca children born will be illegitimate

I stared at those lines for a long time.

Strangely, I didn't cry.

Only a hollow space opened in my chest. So I had already been erased from their future so strategically.

"Illegitimate."

I suddenly remembered an evening years ago in the Family doctor's quarters.

Nico stood inside the room, holding a practice newborn doll in his arms. His movements were stiff, overly careful. When I caught him, he laughed like a child who had been discovered doing something embarrassing and pulled me into his arms.

"I have to learn, Bianca," he said. "When our baby is born, I can't afford to be clumsy."

Back then, I truly believed him. Believed that he would love our children even more than me.

Only now did I realize the future had always existed. It simply didn't include me.

"Bianca Ferrante, I heard you disappeared for days. I had told Nico not to bind himself to a lowly girl. One day she is serving him, another day warming the bed of another man."

Her insult landed like ash on a corpse.

"Shut up."

Her pen slipped as she stared at me in shock. Carmela Graystone adjusted the pearl choker at her neck, fingers pressing into the strand as if it could steady her.

"You dare speak to me like this! I will have Nico skin you alive!"

My bloodshot eyes looked at her, emotionless.

"Years ago, you gave me an offer. Name my price and leave Nico forever. Today I am here to take that deal. I want all the northern territories signed over in my child's name."

She inhaled sharply. "You greedy orphan—"

"I am not here to negotiate." I held her gaze without flinching. "I am here to end this farce. Sign the agreement, and neither I nor the child will have any ties to Nico or the Graystone Family."

"…Fine," she said tightly. "But Nico must never know you are leaving."

She searched my face for fear and yet didn't find any.

"Let's do it this way." I leaned closer. "Seven days. That's all you have. After everything is done, I will leave Nico completely."

Nico will never know that I will take our daughter and disappear from his life forever.

I ignored my mother-in-law's astonished expression and turned to leave.

The walk to my marital home felt endless. The long corridor of the Graystone estate stretched before me, portraits of dead patriarchs watching from every wall, and not a single soldier acknowledged me as I passed.

As soon as I turned the knob, a burst of confetti exploded in my face like a cruel joke.

"Surprise, Bianca!" Nico stood at the far end, smiling softly, like a man certain of forgiveness.

Candles flickered everywhere. The house glowed with careful celebration.

And on the table were blue irises, Serafina's favorite flowers, the kind that gave me severe rashes even if I touched them once.

Earlier, this would have destroyed me.

Now I barely registered it.

"Bianca," Nico said, walking toward me. "Where have you been all this time? Just because I cancelled the wedding, you disappear and leave me worried sick?"

As soon as his fingers grazed my hand I almost lost my mind.

In a small corner of the territory he had arranged for a dilapidated chapel, asking me to decorate it myself for our wedding. His words: "Too much luxury doesn't suit you, Bianca. The simpler, the better."

I cooked, decorated, and waited till midnight only for him to message me at last:

"This time the job is too dangerous. My life is on the line. If I live, let's marry next week, Bianca."

After that I crawled through the most dangerous stretches of rival territory and sourced the antidote from a cliff-side supplier just to save him.

And my reward?

Humiliation.

"Worried sick?" I forcefully smiled. "I thought you stood me up at our wedding because Serafina called at the last moment."

"Bianca, she was attacked by Bratva operatives. What was I supposed to do? Ignore her because you wanted a white dress and flowers?" He leaned closer to me and offered a hypocritical explanation.

"She was the one attacked?"

"She is your sister and yet you are so heartless. Why can't you learn from Serafina, huh?" he pressed, frustrated. "She was worried about you even while she was injured. She kept asking if you were alright, but the first thing you do is complain."

"This is why your father is tired, Bianca. He asked me what happened to the daughter he raised. Why she keeps pushing everyone away. No matter how much I spoil you, the Family will always be above your petty tantrums, so don't ruin my mood."

This was the man who had once covered the bruises from my father with trembling hands.

The same man who held me the night my mother died, when my father brought his mistress and illegitimate daughter home before my mother's body was even cold.

And now he used my secrets to collude and stab a dagger in my back.

He stepped closer, gently coaxing me, as if I were a child throwing a fit.

"Let's celebrate, Bianca," he murmured. "I know tonight means a lot to you. First cut the cake, and then we can go to the Feast of San Gennaro like every year—"

"What… are we celebrating?"

Nico froze.

He stared at me as if I had struck him.

"You don't remember?"

"Bianca… tonight is our anniversary."

"You cried the last time I forgot," he added quietly. "You held onto my shirt and begged me not to make it meaningless."

Silence stretched between us when a sharp echo of Nico's phone tore through the atmosphere, the caller ID flashing for a second before he snatched it from the table.

[Baby rabbit]

Years ago I had shyly taken his phone and entered my name as "Love bear." That day Nico had returned from the family compound and slapped the phone against the wall, making it shatter into a million pieces.

"Are you fucking stupid! Don't you know that I hate such childish nicknames! Don't you dare touch my things again!"

After that he threw all the couple's gifts I gave him straight into the trash.

But with Serafina, he didn't mind it at all.

The difference between love and indifference was clear.

"Nothing important. I will come right now," he muttered on the phone.

The candle on our anniversary cake fluttered and went out, just like the last three years where I cooked him a lavish meal and waited the entire night only to wake up and chew the cold food alone.

"Bianca, I don't think that childish festival you visit every time is too crucial, right?" he added, already slipping on his coat. A soldier appeared at the door, keys in hand, and Nico rolled the unlit cigarette between his fingers once before pocketing it. The decision already made. "There is some emergency regarding the southern shipping route, so I need to leave immediately. You—"

"Alright," I agreed quietly.

It was at that moment Nico froze. He tried: "You don't mind?"

"No," I said quietly.

Nico studied my face, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was searching for the familiar cracks. The plea, the tremble, the question he was used to silencing.

"You understand… this is for the Family, right?" he added slowly.

"Don't overthink. I will be back soon."

He brushed past me so fast the air stung my cheek. The table hit my side, sharp pain bursting through my abdomen, and yet he didn't stop. The silent gasp left my lips as I doubled over in searing pain.

I used to think he ignored me because he was busy.

Now I know.

He simply didn't think of me at all.

My palm rubbed small circles on my belly. "Don't worry, baby. I will take you to see the fireworks. From now on I will fulfill the responsibility of both mother and father."

The carnival lights blurred, and in the glow the memories rose. A past version of us. Two teenagers sharing zeppole at the Feast, Nico brushing powdered sugar from my lips as he whispered: "If you like it, I will buy you hundreds more, Bia."

Him tugging my hand through these very stalls when we were twelve, lifting me onto his shoulders so I could see the fireworks.

I stared at the places where our laughter once lived and felt detached, like a stranger passing through.

"Look, sweetheart… your first festival—" My words were drowned by thousands of fireworks erupting all across the sky before my smile froze.

The night sky shone with [HAPPY BIRTHDAY SERAFINA]

And on the ground I saw Nico Graystone kneeling with a smile. In his hand was my mother's diamond ring, the one I thought I had lost forever.

I remembered how I panicked, sobbing into his chest, hating myself for losing my mother's only blessing to me.

His past words still echoing in my ears: "Just a silly ring. I will buy you hundreds more, Bianca. Just don't cry."

Now it glinted between his fingers as he held it up to Serafina. A birthday present amidst cheers.

This was his "emergency."

My fingers drifted to the hollow of my throat where my mother's locket once hung, but there was nothing there. My hand dropped. My jaw set.

My palm drifted instinctively to my belly as Serafina stepped onto the Ferris wheel, her lips locked with Nico's.

"Sweetheart… let's go," I whispered. "Mommy can't breathe here."

The fireworks kept bursting, bright enough to blind, as I stepped back until the noise dulled into nothingness.

Seconds, minutes, and hours passed until a sickly sweet voice called out, knocking the pastries from my hand onto the ground.

"Oh my, so you came alone, sister?"

Serafina stepped out of the shadows, one hand resting on the curve of her stomach, her smile a slow, deliberate provocation.

"I knew it had to be you from that worn-out dress. Don't worry, Nico's gone to bring me and the babies something sweet. If you'd like, I'll save you a small piece."

I didn't answer her mock concern. My silence made the corners of her smile twitch with a flash of frustration.

"Ah, don't tell me you're still trying to stay strong?" she whispered. "God, how sad. You were almost raped. Your body livestreamed across the internet for every filthy man to watch."

"Let me tell you a secret today. A month ago, Nico took the Southern Shipping Route deal you spent half a year building and presented it as mine."

Her smile widened, wicked.

"He told the Capos I wrote every word. That I was the mind behind the alliance with the southern corridor families."

That deal was my blood. My sleepless nights. My years of sacrifice.

Nico had handed all of my work to his mistress on a silver platter.

"And for my 'brilliance,'" she continued sweetly, "your loving husband rewarded me with properties. Land. And an obscene amount of money."

"Do you want to know what I did with it?"

"I replaced all your loyal soldiers. Signed a contract with the Volkov Bratva Boss to put me at the pinnacle of power. And hired those vile men to make your life worse than death."

"Do you even know it was at your birthday dinner that he first held me? Oh, sister, he took me everywhere. On the desk where you wrote him love letters. In the small rose garden where you made him bouquets. In the bed where you innocently dreamed about him." She paused. "And near the cemetery where your mother's tombstone lay."

Her smile widened, wicked and victorious.

"Only when I needed a break did I tell him: how about he use your body as an outlet until he can control his strong urges and handle me gently."

Three years ago. Nico entering my bedroom while I cried for my mother before holding me gently.

No buts, Bianca. He had murmured, fingers tightening. I need you tonight. Just this once. Be good for me.

I was exhausted. It hurt. I told him.

Just once more, darling, he whispered instead, while my body was already trembling, bruised and hollowed out.

And I let him because I thought it was love.

Serafina lifted one manicured finger, her smile widening as she watched my face morph into shades of anguish, as if whatever slept within me had heard those words and hated them.

"Shame the result of that day was born a bastard. But then again, children copy their mothers, right?" Her smile was gentle. "Even now a whore like you will breed a whore, won't you—"

Before she could say another word, a thunderous slap cracked through the atmosphere.

Crack!

The sound was so brutal that Serafina's face twisted to one side, blood trailing down her lips.

For the first time, the woman who always looked untouchable looked small.

Her face went blank with shock before twisting with humiliation, rage, and disbelief.

I stared at my own hand, breath ragged. That furious strength wasn't me.

For the first time in my life, I felt it.

My own power. A slow presence simmering in my chest. Not roaring, not fully awakened, but there. Breathing inside me.

"Bianca, you lowly whore, how dare you hit me?!"

"The whore was never me."

I leaned closer, fury settling into my bones like winter frost.

"And if what you said is true, then get ready to be replaced by another woman. Younger and more beautiful. Because men never keep mistresses forever. It's like a matching shoe. Once old and used, it will be discarded for another."

The last thread of sanity snapped inside her eyes, and she stared at me like she wanted to rip my soul out of my chest.

"Fine," she whispered. "Then tonight, you will see who is the real wife."

Before I could move, her nails dug into my skin as she dragged both of us off the private dock and into the freezing harbor water with a violent splash.

My scream drowned inside my throat as my hands frantically slapped the water to stay afloat.

It was then I heard a small laugh. "Remember how I drowned your pet dog as your birthday gift and framed you, sister? Let's play that game again."

I gasped at the ruthless memory as Serafina's hand pressed down on my head, forcing me under.

"Sister, you can't swim because of that trauma, right? Tonight I will make you relive that hell."

Her monstrous satisfaction shifted in an instant to a gentle cry.

"Bianca, please don't be angry. I just wanted to see the festival. Sister, don't hurt me. No! I didn't mean anything!"

My body convulsed, drowning, the world going dark at the edges. Through the muffled chaos, a loud roar shattered the night.

"SERAFINA!"

A splash followed immediately as Nico jumped into the water, pulling Serafina into his arms.

"Serafina! Are you hurt? Don't be scared! I'm here!"

It was then, with the last of my strength, my arm shot out of the surface, water filling my lungs, my mouth, my ears, as my daughter twisted in my stomach like she was crying frantically.

And only then did Nico look at me.

One glance.

One cold, enraged glare.

"Nico, go save sister. I don't blame her. She was just upset. She pushed me, but it's alright. I am willing to die to prove my loyalty to her."

Her tears fell on his shirt as she sobbed, and my entire being suffered in icy horror.

At last Nico spoke. His voice cutting deeper than any blade.

"Bianca, I am disappointed to have a wife like you. In childhood, Serafina went through your relentless bullying just because she understood your pain of losing a mother. She went abroad because you hated her living under the same roof. She saved my life because she wanted to see her sister's husband alive, so that you would remain happy."

The cold wind blew off the harbor, but his tone was colder than the water killing me. "And you dare scheme against her?!"

Scheming?

I sank deeper, lungs burning, unable to breathe, unable to fight anymore.

His final words cracked through the night:

"Since you shamelessly planned this, then get out of the water yourself!" And then he walked away with her.

Darkness covered my vision as my eyes closed.

No. I can't die here. I must save my unborn daughter.

Just before my consciousness faded completely, I reached for the hidden phone Dominic had given me and pressed the only number saved in it.

"Dominic, save me. Save my daughter."

Just as everything faded, strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me out of death's embrace.

"Bianca!" The voice rumbled like thunder through fog.

Dominic.

His worrying eyes were the last thing I saw before going limp in his arms.

When I woke, the gentle sweet scent of lilies filled the room. A large bouquet rested on the table beside my bed, white petals fresh and trembling like they had been placed there with care.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the folded note left beneath the flowers.

Bianca — The baby is doing well. Please don't worry about her.

I know lilies are your favorite and bring you comfort. I wanted to stay, but the Bratva hit one of our border operations and I had to leave immediately.

I don't want you to face anything alone again, Bianca. Not now, not ever. Please answer me — are you willing to marry me?

My breath caught as I lifted my phone to reply.

Bianca: Okay. This Sunday. Let's get married.

Three days passed in the hospital, and not once did Nico show up.

On the third day, I finally opened my phone only to find it flooded with Serafina's photos. Rumpled sheets in the background as shadows mingled intimately in the candlelight. Photos of Nico kissing her belly affectionately, cooking for her and spending every night at her place.

The memories flooded my mind like a curse.

When I was nineteen, I burned dinner so badly the kitchen filled with smoke. I stood there on the verge of tears, but Nico sat down and ate every bite, smiling like it was the best meal he ever had. Then he gently pushed me out of the kitchen, kissed my forehead, and said softly, "You are already everything to me, Bia. Let me do the rest." Then with a shy smile added, "That way… that way I will know how to cook when our daughter arrives."

That careful, earnest love was gone and reduced to the cold hatred I felt in this instant. It was then a message chimed on my phone.

Nico: I am willing to overlook what happened earlier.

Tomorrow, I will accompany you to choose the wedding dress. Don't disappoint me again.

Once the Southern Shipping Route deal is finalized, everything will be in order.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.

The deal you feel smug about is already cancelled, Nico.

Bianca: Fine.

I didn't bother explaining that the wedding gown I would be choosing had nothing to do with him.

The next morning, I was discharged only to find Serafina accompanying Nico to "help her sister." I didn't speak, sitting with my hands folded in my lap, watching the city blur past the window as Serafina filled the silence. One of Nico's soldiers drove. Another sat in the passenger seat, eyes forward, hand resting on his lap in a way that wasn't casual.

The car finally stopped before the most exclusive bridal boutique in the city.

Serafina smiled and turned to me, her eyes shining with soft triumph. "Look, Sister," she said gently. "Everything here is reserved for the most deserving bride."

As soon as we entered, the sales assistant greeted us with polished enthusiasm, guiding us through the season's finest designs.

My steps slowed as one dress caught my eye.

Ivory and elegant. Just like my mother's wedding gown that was "accidentally" torn by Serafina.

My fingers trembled as I reached out slowly, afraid to taint it, when a voice echoed lightly.

"That one… that is my dream dress."

Before I could touch it, a sharp pain burst across my skin.

SLAP!

My hand flew back as the sound echoed through the boutique, red bruises blooming instantly where Nico's palm had struck.

For a second, Nico stilled, his hand frozen mid-air as if he had only just realized what he had done.

"Bianca… I… that… that doesn't suit you," he explained hurriedly before pointing toward another rack randomly. "That one is best for you."

The sales assistant hesitated, confusion flickering across her features. "Sir… are you sure? You really want your bride to wear that?"

The moment my gaze followed where Nico pointed, a dull ache blossomed in my chest.

Black.

A mourning dress that shone like gems.

I saw the realization strike his eyes a second too late, his lips parting as if to correct himself.

"I saw wrongly. If you are upset, choose whatever you like—"

"I will wear it," I said softly.

The words fell into the boutique like a final bell.

"Bianca, you…" Nico said, stunned, his gaze searching my face, unsettled, like he was looking for tears that never came.

Before the silence could stretch any further, Serafina's voice slipped in gently. Her fingertips drifted to her collarbone, eyes glistening with tears that shimmered but never fell.

"Sister… I am so sorry… today was ruined because of me."

"To make up for it, would you… come to Sunday dinner tonight?" she offered, eyes reddening as if guilt weighed heavily on her heart. "Father misses you terribly. His heart condition worsened after you cut off all contact."

Hearing those words, the small flicker of guilt lingering in Nico's eyes vanished instantly.

"Alright," I replied, making her innocent facade crack for a moment.

I agreed. Not for her.

But because once, my brothers had been my shelter, my twin's footsteps always half a breath behind mine, his hand reaching for mine whenever he was afraid. Before bloodlines mattered, they had loved me without conditions. This would be my final farewell to those memories.

When we finally reached my childhood home, everyone was already seated. The Ferrante house smelled the same as it always had. Garlic and rosemary in the walls. Old wine in the cellar below. The long dining table with its white cloth and heavy silverware, places set with the precision my father demanded.

Father didn't look at me. My brothers didn't greet me. Their attention belonged solely to Serafina.

"You shouldn't strain yourself," Father said gently, his voice softening in a way I barely recognized. He cut his food slowly as he spoke, each piece exactly the same size, the knife never pausing. "Especially in your condition."

Then, as if continuing a thought already settled in his mind, he said, "Serafina was always a kind child… gentle and considerate. She would make a far better wife to lead the household."

Only then did his gaze flick toward me, cold and already done.

"When Bianca ran away, I feared she would truly go astray. Nico, we are grateful you took responsibility for this rebellious child."

Something cold slid down my spine.

The room stilled.

"It wasn't me who was impregnated by an unknown man and still walked through the Family without shame." My eyes lifted, steady.

"Shouldn't Father first ask his 'good daughter' which man she chose to share her bed with?"

CLANG!

A hand slammed hard against the table.

"You shameless woman, do you think Serafina is like you!" My elder brother Tomas exploded, his voice ripping through the room as he stood up furiously. "Wasn't killing Mom enough that now you even want to sow discord in our family?!"

My fingers went numb against the edge of the table. "I… I never—"

"Oh really?" My twin brother Elena stood, his gaze sliding downward slowly until it landed on my stomach with disgust. He cracked his knuckles one at a time, starting with the left hand.

"Let it be, brother." He smirked. "Maybe God saw what kind of woman she was and kept her barren for years. Even when she conceived… it was all but a dead child."

Something broke then.

Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just the quiet understanding that I had loved people who never once tried to love me back.

For years, I had stood between my twin and Father's temper, taken the blows meant for him, swallowed my own pain so he could remain unscarred.

But from beginning to end, none of them ever looked back.

"Brother Elena," Serafina sobbed softly then, clutching at his sleeve. "Please… don't say such things. Sister didn't mean it."

Nico looked at me sharply and did not bother to defend me, as if saying I deserved it.

It was then Father cut in sharply, his impatience freezing the room. The knife in his hand hadn't stopped moving once.

"Enough. Serafina especially cooked the meal herself despite being pregnant. Must you always ruin the atmosphere, Bianca?! Go on and serve the food. That's all you are good for!"

I stood, unable to breathe. My fingers drifted to the hollow of my throat where my mother's locket once hung. There was nothing there. My hand dropped, and my jaw set.

"I am leaving."

Nico's hand closed around my arm, rough and unyielding.

"You will not," he said quietly. "Didn't you already ruin everything… I am already at my limit, Bianca."

"No—"

"Do it," he said quietly, his grip tightening.

"Or I will announce to the entire Family that your mother died because of your weakness. That the Bratva came for you and she stepped in to die because you couldn't even protect yourself."

My world tilted violently as he twisted the deepest of my wounds and tore it open.

I turned toward the kitchen because there was nowhere else to go.

Each step felt heavy as I carried the food back. I settled into my seat with a heavy silence, and each mouthful felt like I was chewing on cold wax.

Then warmth touched my lip.

I wiped it absently and stared at the blood on my fingers. It dripped slowly onto the white tablecloth.

My chest tightened, breath coming shallow and sharp. I lifted my eyes to Serafina.

She met my gaze and smiled, mouthing a word when no one was watching.

Peanuts.

I huffed, clawing at my chest, deathly allergic.

"Bianca—" Nico noticed first before Serafina screamed.

"My stomach!"

She doubled over, clutching herself as panic erupted instantly around her.

Chairs scraped back. Nico rushed to her side. My father and brothers surrounded her, voices overlapping in fear.

"Call the doctor!"

No one looked at me.

I gripped the edge of the table, blood trickling down as my vision darkened, my lungs burning as if the air itself had abandoned me.

They rushed her out.

And I was left behind, struggling to breathe.