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.

The ambulance siren wailed through the night.

My vision swam in and out as I was wheeled inside the hospital.

"Miss!" The doctor caught my face gently, forcing my unfocused gaze to hers. "Listen to me. If you can hold on for one hour, we can save the baby. But I need to give you this injection right now."

"This will stabilize you. If I don't administer it, your heart will fail before labour finishes. Your body can't handle both shock and blood loss."

My hands trembled as I clutched my belly, terror clawing its way up my throat.

"Do it," I whispered. "Please… do it."

The needle had barely touched my skin.

Bang! Graystone soldiers flooded in, two at the front with hands inside their jackets, and behind them Nico strode forward, his arms holding Serafina trembling like a wounded lamb.

Nico's gaze landed on the syringe before something ugly twisted in his eyes.

He strode forward and slapped the doctor's hand away.

The syringe, my last chance, flew through the air and shattered against the floor, the lifesaving medicine spilling out uselessly.

"You! No!" the doctor screamed. "That shot was her only chance! The baby won't make it! Even Bianca's heart—"

"There is a limit to shamelessness! You found Serafina was getting her treatment here and hired all doctors faking your illness!" Nico didn't let the doctor finish.

"Get her out and prepare for Serafina's treatment immediately!" he ordered coldly.

The nurse interjected quickly. "Sir, Miss Serafina seems fine. It's Miss Bianca—"

The doctor was taken away despite resistance and the door slammed shut. Two soldiers stood outside it like sentinels, arms crossed, faces blank.

Silence crashed down before a thunderous sound echoed.

SLAP!

My head whipped sideways, the taste of blood bursting across my tongue. The room spun as my ears rang from the force. The fluorescent light above me strobed once, or maybe that was my vision failing.

For half a second, Nico's gaze faltered when he saw my state before Serafina's cry echoed, making his guilt disappear completely.

"You have crossed every limit, Bianca!" Nico snapped, his eyes burning with rage.

"Serafina was perfectly fine until you brought that food! What the hell did you mix in it?!"

"Nothing," I said hoarsely. "It was her who mixed the peanuts—"

"Nothing?" His eyes darkened, voice dropping to ice. "You still dare lie!"

"Today I will teach you a lesson you will never forget." His voice carried the formal weight of a decree, the kind spoken before witnesses and never retracted. "I, Nico Graystone, Boss of the Graystone Family, strip you, Bianca Ferrante, of your title and standing as my wife. From now onwards your status is reduced to nothing. You are unworthy to stand beside me or speak for this Family. Apologize, or this won't be it!" he commanded.

"No!" I spat.

"What did you say?" His eyes sharpened into ice, a tinge of shock at my calmness.

"I said no! I will not—"

He reached into his pocket.

And the world… stopped.

Hanging between his fingers was a small, tarnished locket belonging to my mother. The very locket I had given Nico as a promise when we were thirteen. If you keep this, you keep me.

"You shouldn't be so stubborn, Bianca." His thumb traced it lazily.

"Apologize now or this disappears forever." A chill crept into his eyes, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

My vision blurred. Not from weakness, but from grief so sharp that it crushed me.

I got up with the last of my breaths, my knees hitting the cold floor. Pain ricocheted up my spine. The hospital tile was freezing, the kind of cold that seeped through cloth and skin and went straight to bone.

I could barely breathe, barely stay upright.

Slowly… painfully… I lowered myself until my forehead touched the cold floor.

"I am sorry," I whispered before looking up at Nico, and the moment our eyes met, his entire being faltered.

Broken, destroyed, and utterly ruined.

The red-rimmed eyes that once held an ocean of love looked at him with raw despair… empty.

This time, he hesitated, his expression complicated. His fingers twitched around the unlit cigarette he'd been holding, and for one breath the motion stopped completely.

It was then Serafina sniffled delicately, wiping a perfectly timed tear. Her fingertips drifted to her collarbone, eyes glistening with tears that pooled and shimmered but never fell.

"Oh, sister… I didn't want this." It was then she gently took the locket from Nico.

"Here, sister… I will give it to you," she murmured, stepping toward me with a gentle, angelic smile.

My fingers shook as I reached out, bloodshot eyes only focused on it, but before I could grasp it… the locket fell.

Clink.

The glass center shattered like a small, dying cry, breaking into millions of pieces. My mother's photograph scattered across the hospital floor in fragments no bigger than dust.

"No!" I screamed, a raw sound that rippled through the ward.

My knees scraped the floor, pain burning through bone as I scrambled on my palms across the broken glass, desperately trying to gather the tiny fragments.

"Bianca, stop it." Nico looked momentarily at a loss but still hardened his expression.

"NO!!" I shouted, my voice unrecognizable.

Serafina jumped at the sound, then instantly clutched her stomach dramatically, gasping.

"N-Nico… sister is scaring me… I am sorry… I didn't mean to drop it… please don't be angry…"

A flicker of pity rose in Nico but the moment he thought of Serafina, it disappeared.

His eyes turned cold, flat.

"Stop this pathetic tantrum," he said to me, voice low with disgust. "If you were so concerned about it then maybe you shouldn't have tried to kill your sister!"

I stared at the ground, my chest rising violently, my hands still digging through glass.

And yet he didn't see the wounds on my hand, the tremors racking my body as I went paler each passing second.

He only saw Serafina.

"You can always buy another trinket," he snapped. "Why destroy your dignity over something useless?"

Useless.

My throat closed.

The locket that survived the night my father poured kerosene on my mother's belongings and burned her from our lives.

Useless.

The only proof my mother ever existed.

The only reassurance I had that she still watched over me.

The only thing I thought would protect my daughter in my womb.

Something inside me fractured so fatally that I forgot to breathe.

"If you understand your mistake, go home and wait for me. This locket… I will compensate you after our wedding tomorrow."

He turned away, guiding Serafina out. One of the soldiers held the door open for them, then pulled it shut without looking back at me.

Silence settled, heavy as ash.

I remained kneeling on the floor, fingers trembling over the bloodied shards. Somewhere down the corridor a phone rang and rang and no one answered it.

Then a warm wetness trickled down my thigh.

Slow, heavy, and dark red.

Spreading like a quiet massacre beneath me.

At first I stared at it blankly as if it belonged to someone else, as if it couldn't possibly be my baby.

My daughter.

But the crimson blood kept blooming beneath me.

My throat closed so tight I couldn't breathe. Couldn't scream. Couldn't move.

It felt like watching my entire life drain out onto the floor as nurses rushed inside, holding my head before it hit the ground.

"She is going into shock labour! Move, now!"