To everyone else, I'm the wife of Stefano Pace, the man who runs this city's underworld. To others, I am living the kind of luxury every woman in town envies. But what no one knows is that in three days, I'm leaving my husband for good.

It started when I took Stefano's car to wash and spotted a black stocking that wasn't mine wedged in the passenger seat cushions. It was balled up and still reeked of sickly sweet perfume. The sight of it was like a knife to the heart.

I knew that perfume. It is Isla Torelli's. She's Stefano's underboss, the only woman besides me who's ever taken the passenger seat.

My hand trembled as I gripped the stocking, but I kept my cool.

I thought back to our wedding seven years ago, when Stefano stood in front of the whole family and vowed, "If I ever betray you, then betray me a hundredfold!"

He probably did not think those words would come true.

"This is Sylvie. I'm done being the good little housewife. Tell the Sassis to brace for my return."

I hung up on the last word, ending the call and seven years of swallowed pride.

I threw the black stocking back where I found it, went home, and scrubbed my hands raw, but the sickly sweet perfume still clung to me.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. My lips were pale, and my eyes were so sunken I hardly recognized myself.

I touched the dark circles under my eyes and noticed the tiny tattoo on my wrist. Seven years ago, Stefano Pace and I got matching tattoos. He got the key, and I got the lock.

"You're the only one I'll ever unlock," he had said to me, so earnestly it sounded like a wish.

I could still feel his kiss on my wrist. Now the lock remained, but the key was gone.

Tears fell from the corners of my eyes, drop by drop, into the sink.

"I guess we didn't make it past the seven-year itch after all," I murmured.

Seven years ago, Dad, Don of the Sassi family, held a gun to my head and told me not to marry Stefano.

I married him anyway, for love, for a soldato who had nothing but ambition back then. I gave up my birthright, my crown, and my family's empire to build his instead.

I played the perfect housewife, funneling him money and dealing with his enemies. Step by step, I put him on this city's underworld throne.

Back then, Stefano said I was the only light in his life. Now he couldn't take his eyes off Isla Torelli.

She'd started as a dancer. Now, she was his underboss. She used her body as a weapon, and he worshiped power in any form.

Stefano made Isla his underboss, his right hand, the charm he relied on when things got rough. Meanwhile, I, his wife, was reduced to a trophy.

Rumors about them had been swirling in our circles for a long time. Whenever the doubts ate at me and I confronted him about it, he denied it outright and said he and Isla kept it strictly professional.

I believed him.

Then he started staying out all night and coming home reeking of her perfume. Now there was a black stocking in his car.

This time, I was going to get an answer.

I went full glam, slipped into my priciest dress, and had the driver drop me off at the entrance to Stefano's private club, the place where we first met.

He once pointed at this gilded money pit and said, "I'll own this place someday."

I quietly bought the club and let it go to him for cheap just to make that happen. I never thought he'd turn it into a playground for someone else.

The guard at the door gave me a nod when he saw me. "Mrs. Pace. Don Pace isn't in right now."

I gave him a curt nod, keeping my voice even. "It's fine. I'll wait."

I eased open the door to Stefano's private room. It smelled like whiskey, leather, and smoke. Isla was sprawled on the couch, a cigarette resting between her perfectly manicured fingers.

She froze for a beat when I walked in, then sprang to her feet. "Mrs. Pace, what brings you here? I was just waiting for Don Pace to get back so we could go over the new casino plans."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Cut the act, Isla. It's just us."

The fluster in her eyes faded, leaving pure defiance. "Alright, Sylvie. If that's what you want."

She sank into the couch and crossed her legs, slow and deliberate. "What are you doing here, Sylvie? Stefano isn't here right now."

I tossed the photo of the black stocking I'd found in Stefano's car onto the table in front of her. "You left this in his car on purpose, didn't you?"

Isla glanced down, a smug smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, so you found it. That's not on me, sweetheart. That's on Stefano. He says he needs my scent to get hard. Guess you don't do it for him anymore."

Her words hit like a bullet and shattered my heart, but I didn't even flinch.

"No matter what you've done behind my back, I'll always be his wife. And you'll always be the other woman he has to hide," I said calmly.

A laugh burst out of her, and her eyes lit with something wild. "The other woman? Sylvie, remember this. The one he doesn't love is the other woman!"

Then I caught the footsteps I knew by heart.

Stefano had returned.

Isla flashed a wicked grin, snatched the whiskey bottle off the table, and smashed it over her own head without thinking.

The bottle shattered and blood poured. Then, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. "Mrs. Pace! Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry!"

Before I could react, she stuffed the bloody bottle into my hand.

Right then, the door flew open.

"What did you do to Isla?"

Behind me, Stefano's voice was low and stern. I went rigid, and the bottle in my hand suddenly felt heavy.

"I didn't—"

His slap cut me off. Heat flared across my cheek, but it was nothing compared to how my heart broke right then.

"Did you just hit me?" I said, stunned.

"If anything happens to Isla, you'll pay for it with interest!" Stefano bellowed.

Without another glance, he scooped Isla into his arms, holding her like she was made of glass.

He snapped at the guards by the door, "Get a doctor! Now!"

The assistant came, then the doctor, and even the club manager. However, none of them looked at me.

I stood there silently. It was as if I didn't exist in Stefano's world.

"Go home, Sylvie. I don't want to see you right now," Stefano said, not even looking at me.

I bolted out before anyone could see me fall apart.

On the cab ride home, my eyes blurred with tears. We'd been married for seven years, but he wouldn't listen to a word I said. He didn't want the truth. He only believed what he saw.

As soon as I got home, I headed straight for the closet. Then, I folded my dresses, slipped off my wedding ring, and packed my suitcase.

I was so done with this house and with Stefano. I should've left the minute that damn black stocking turned up.

I hadn't even zipped my suitcase when the door flew open and Stefano barreled in, eyes blazing. He blew past the suitcase at my feet and grabbed my arm. "Come with me."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

"To the hospital. Isla's injuries led to complications. She needs a bone marrow transplant right now! This is on you. You have to save her," Stefano said, his voice dripping with urgency.

I cried out, "I didn't hurt her! She smashed that bottle over her own head—"

His voice cracked like a whip, cutting me short. "Enough! Stop lying! Your jealousy almost got an innocent woman killed. The least you can do is save her."

My blood ran cold. "I said I didn't—"

Stefano's fingers dug in hard, his eyes boring straight through me as he cut me off again. "Lie to yourself all you want. I'm done listening."

So that was it. I'd walked right into Isla's trap. And my husband of seven years took her word for it without a second thought.

Seven years of us, just gone.

I didn't fight back when he hauled me to the car. What was the point?

At the hospital, Stefano marched me straight to Isla's room. Doctors crowded in.

Stefano pointed at me and ordered, "Harvest her bone marrow. Begin the surgery now."

I stared at him, my whole body shaking. "Why me? If Isla means that much to you, why not harvest your own?"

He clenched his jaw. "Because yours is the only match!"

The surgeon hesitated. "Mr. Pace, we're short on anesthesia. We only have one dose left. Maybe we should wait…"

Stefano looked me over, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes. "We can't wait any longer. Every second we waste just makes it worse for Isla. Give the last dose to Isla. She's terrified of pain."

Something inside me broke for good.

Several nurses held me down on the operating table, and the needle pierced my skin. White-hot pain ripped through my body and stole my voice. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Each bone marrow draw knocked me out cold. After drifting in and out of consciousness again and again, the surgery finally ended.

When I opened my eyes again, the room was empty. I lay there, limp on the bed, the sheets soaked with sweat and blood.

"Is anyone there?" I spoke, my voice barely a whisper.

The door opened. Stefano stood there, stone cold. "You're lucky. Isla made it."

My throat tightened. "You're not even going to ask how I'm doing?"

"They only harvested a little marrow. You'll be fine. I know what I'm doing," he said flatly.

With that, he turned and left without looking back.

Just then, the surgeon who'd harvested my bone marrow came in, looking pale. "Mrs. Pace, I need to tell you something important."

My heart sank. "What is it?"

She sighed. "The tests show you were about a month along, and because of the procedure, you lost the baby. I'm very sorry."

A baby?

The room spun. I locked eyes with her. "I was pregnant?"

She gave a small nod.

"Why didn't you stop the surgery?" I asked, my voice shaking.

She said under her breath, "Mr. Pace signed the consent form himself. He said if we didn't go through with the surgery, he'd bury us next to Isla."

I could barely breathe. "D-did he know I was pregnant?"

"All his attention was on Isla. He signed it without even reading."

I couldn't hear the doctor anymore. I couldn't feel the IV in the back of my hand either.

All I felt was a hollow ache in my lower abdomen. I hadn't even had time to give my baby a name, and it was gone before I ever got to meet it.

I kept imagining the child Stefano and I might have had, over and over. Maybe it'd have Stefano's eyes and my hair.

That baby was meant to save our marriage, my last hope. But Stefano took our baby's life with his own hands.

Numb, I yanked the IV out of my hand and set my bare feet on the cold tile. My head spun.

The doctor rushed over to stop me. "Mrs. Pace, you're still weak! Where are you going?"

"Where is Stefano?" I asked, my voice hoarse and hollow.

She hesitated, then pointed to the next room.

I pushed the door open and saw Stefano gently holding a slice of apple to Isla's lips. Isla was propped against the headboard, a barely there smirk playing at her lips.

I walked over slowly. "Stefano, we lost the baby," I said.

He froze, then blinked at me like I'd said something ridiculous. "A baby? Sylvie, are you crazy? We don't have a baby."

He looked at me with sheer disappointment. "You'd make up a lie like that just to get my sympathy?"

"I'm not lying. I was pregnant—"

I didn't get the sentence out before a brutal cramp ripped through my lower belly. I doubled over as warmth ran down my legs, turning my pants red.

Isla pinched her nose, disgust in her eyes as she said, "Ugh, did Sylvie just get her period?"

Stefano stared at the blood on the floor, contempt in his eyes. "Sylvie, you make me sick. Go clean yourself up. Don't make Isla look at this."

He turned his back on me, the same back I used to lean on. He shut me out of his world without a shred of mercy.

I left without a word.

When I got back to my room, the nurse rushed to stop the bleeding. Seeing how pale I was, she asked, "Mrs. Pace, are you hurting? Do you want something for the pain?"

"No, I'm fine."

Maybe the pain had hollowed me out. I stared out the hospital window at the bleak gray sky, feeling nothing.

…

Two days later, I left the hospital. I went back to the empty house by myself and finished packing the suitcase I'd left half-packed.

Then I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I hadn't called in seven years.

A deep voice came on the line. "Sylvie, you finally decided to call me?"

"Dad, I'm ready to come back and take over the Sassi family," I said evenly.

"Welcome home. Everyone in the Sassi family has been waiting for you."

After I hung up, I pulled out the divorce papers I'd already prepared and signed them. I set them on the table in the middle of the living room, making sure they'd be the first thing Stefano saw when he walked in.

Then I walked out without looking back, leaving the cage that had held me for seven years.

While I was waiting to board my flight, Stefano called, furious. "Sylvie, divorce isn't a joke!"

I laughed. "I'm not joking. Sign it. We're done."

After a beat, he said, "Let's talk. Where are you?"

"I'm at…"

I could hear an engine turn on through the phone. I knew if I told him where I was, he'd be on me in minutes.

"I'm in the car with the black stockings on the passenger seat. If you can't tell which one, ask Isla."

I hung up and turned my phone off. That small click sealed seven years of my life. I was heading back to take over the Sassi family.

Stefano and Isla had taken my baby and made me bleed. They'd answer for it in blood!