Marcella's POV

I always imagined the day I gave birth would be one of the happiest days of my life, surrounded by warmth, love, and the people who mattered most to me.

In my mind, I pictured my husband by my side, his strong hand holding mine as he whispered encouraging words and kissed my forehead between contractions.

I thought my sister would be there too, sharing in my joy, her eyes brimming with happy tears. But reality was cruel, and the truth hit me harder than I ever thought possible.

When the contractions started, I was alone. There was no loving hand to hold and no comforting presence to keep the fear at bay.

Titus, my husband—the man who once promised to love me—was nowhere to be found.

His assistant, a cold, indifferent middle aged woman with a clipped tone, had informed me he was “unavailable” due to an important business meeting.

“Please call him— beg him, just tell him anything, our baby is on the way and I'm so scared” I told his assistant, who ended the call before I could even finish.

A business meeting, as if that somehow justified his absence on the day our child was meant to come into the world.

Vynessa, my sister, wasn’t any better. She hadn’t even answered my calls. I had scrolled through my feed earlier and seen her posts, bright pictures of sun-kissed beaches and cocktails, flaunting her tropical vacation without a care in the world.

They were living their lives, wrapped up in each other’s company while I fought through the waves of pain alone.

The contractions came fast and hard, each one more agonizing than the last. Every time my belly tightened, I gasped, tears springing to my eyes as I struggled to breathe through the pain.

I dialed Titus’s number again, desperation rising in my chest, but it went straight to voicemail.

I sent text after text, begging him to come, praying he would drop everything and rush to my side, but there was nothing.

I was on my own and with no other choice, I forced my trembling body into action. I stumbled toward the car, wincing with each step as the pain tore through me, sharp and unforgiving.

My vision blurred from the tears clouding my eyes, but I gritted my teeth and kept going. I had to get to the hospital. I had to be strong—for my baby.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I drove through the contractions, my knuckles turning white as I tried to focus on the road ahead.

“Marcella, stay strong —you’ve to stay strong for your baby please” I chided myself as I struggled to swallow my painful whimpers.

The pressure in my abdomen was unbearable, and I could feel the baby pushing lower with each agonizing wave.

A strangled cry escaped my lips when another contraction hit, nearly making me lose control of the car.

My entire body shook as I fought to stay upright, beads of sweat rolling down my face, but I kept going. I had no choice.

And then, halfway to the hospital, disaster struck. The dashboard lights flickered, and before I could process what was happening, the engine sputtered and died.

Thick, acrid smoke began rising from the hood, filling the air with the stench of burning oil.

I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, panic clawing at my throat as I tried to restart the engine, but it was useless.

“No, no, no,” I whispered frantically, tears blurring my vision as the car refused to budge.

I didn’t even have time to process my fear before a loud, thunderous boom shattered the air.

The impact came out of nowhere, slamming into me like a wrecking ball and sending the car spinning wildly out of control as my car somersaulted into the air.

I screamed as metal screeched and glass shattered around me, and before I knew it, I was upside down, dangling from the seatbelt with blood trickling down my face.

For a moment, everything went still. My ears rang from the deafening crash, and my vision swam as I struggled to make sense of what had just happened. But then the pain came, sharp and searing, and I knew something was terribly wrong.

The smell hit me first—the sickening stench of burning flesh—My flesh.

A scream ripped from my throat as I felt the flames licking at my skin, but my body wouldn’t move.

I tried to unbuckle the seatbelt, but my hands were too weak, trembling violently as I fought against the crushing weight of the wreckage.

My chest heaved with ragged, desperate breaths, and I could feel my pulse pounding wildly in my ears.

And then, amidst the chaos and the pain, one thought consumed me.

My baby. Was my baby still alive?

The panic was overwhelming, threatening to suffocate me as I reached a trembling hand toward my stomach.

I could barely breathe, barely think, but I had to know. I had to be sure but Just as my fingers brushed against my belly, the darkness closed in, dragging me down into endless darkness.

Marcella's POV

I opened my eyes and instantly knew something wasn’t right.

The expected rhythmic beeping of hospital equipment was absent. There were no gentle cries of a newborn or the soothing whispers of family. Instead, there was an unsettling silence.

I attempted to move, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Panic surged within me as I tried to sit up, only to be met with a sharp, excruciating pain in my back.

My breath hitched, and I paused, taking a moment to assess my condition. That’s when I realized—my stomach was flat.

A wave of panic washed over me as my mind raced, desperately asking the question I dreaded. Where was my baby?

Fear coursed through me, and tears welled in my eyes. I fought to remain calm and think clearly, even as terror gripped me.

Just before I could call out, the door creaked open, and I instinctively closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep and listened as footsteps approached.

“Spare me the nonsense, Doctor,” Titus snapped, his deep voice laced with irritation. I froze. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Why are you crying more than the bereaved? Do you know how disgusted I feel knowing I’ll still have to see her face and go through another round of pretenses? How did she even survive? She was supposed to die.”

“But — Boss, that child had a chance to live, why did you turn off the life support?” The doctor asked, frustration evident in his voice.

Titus let out a harsh laugh, the sound so cold made my skin crawl. “A chance?” he repeated mockingly. “That child was as good as dead before he was even born,” Titus replied coldly, his tone devoid of feeling. “I never wanted that baby in the first place.”

Shock coursed through me, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady.

“I made it clear from the beginning that Vynessa is the one I love,” Titus continued, his words cutting through me like a blade. “Her son will carry my name, not Marcella’s.”

Vynessa? My sister? Or was there another Vanessa I didn’t know about?

I fought to comprehend what I was hearing. My sister, whom I loved and trusted, had betrayed me? Why? What had I done to deserve this?

Pain twisted in my chest as a tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted to scream, to confront him, to demand answers, but I remained silent, desperate to grasp the extent of their betrayal.

The doctor’s voice turned gentle, his tone careful. “Donna Marcella has already endured so much—losing her child and her ability to walk. Please, allow me to perform reconstructive surgery on her burns.”

Titus let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “And why would I agree to that? So she can outshine Vynessa? No. Let her remain like this. Let her wake up every day tormented by her losses. With her out of the picture, Vynessa will rightfully assume her role as the Donna of the Lombardi family.”

A wave of nausea surged through me, and I swallowed hard trying not to vomit.

“But sir,” the doctor interjected cautiously, “this could lead her to… dark thoughts. Even suicide—”

“That’s not my concern,” Titus cut him off dismissively and hissed loudly. “The faster it happens, the better for me”

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, and I could sense his hesitation. “Boss… with all due respect, I didn’t sign up for this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I became a doctor to save lives, not to—”

Titus’s cold, menacing laugh cut him off. “Save lives?” he repeated mockingly. “Let me remind you, Doctor, that you’re only standing here right now because I allow it.”

The doctor cleared his throat nervously, but Titus wasn’t finished. His tone dropped lower, colder. “Don’t forget who’s been funding this fancy private clinic of yours or who got your girlfriend into that cushy job at the law firm”

The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, before Titus spoke again, his words slow and deliberate.

“Imagine what would happen if I pulled the plug on all that.” He leaned in closer, and I could almost feel the icy chill of his breath in the room.

“Imagine if the government found out that you’ve been treating the most dangerous mafia family in the country off the books. No license. No protection. Just you, alone, rotting in a prison cell while your precious little fiancée moves on.”

The doctor’s breathing hitched as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.

“And let’s not forget your daughter,” Titus continued, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “How old is she now? Eight? Nine? Such a sweet girl. It’d be a shame if anything happened to her.”

“You wouldn’t,” the doctor whispered, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury.

“Try me,” Titus said simply, and for a moment, the room was so quiet I could hear the doctor’s ragged breathing.

Marcella's POV

The door swung open again, followed by the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice that sent a chill down my spine.

“Boss, I swear I thought she was dead,” Paulo said, disbelief thick in his voice. “I was right behind her! I saw the bomb go off with my own eyes. How the hell did she survive that?”

I clenched the sheets beneath me, my entire body trembling as I listened.

“She’s always been annoyingly lucky,” Titus replied, his tone filled with irritation. “But this time, it doesn’t matter. She won’t be lucky for long.”

My driver? This man who would’ve been six feet under if not for me. He was about to be killed by one of the mafia gangs he worked for, and I saved him.

I gave him a roof over his head, paid him more than I’d pay any actual driver, treated him like family—and this is how he repaid me? By plotting my death with my husband?

“I took care of the remains,” Paulo said quietly, his tone cold and detached. “Just confirming before I leave town.”

The remains? My stomach twisted painfully. What did he mean by remains?

Titus let out a mocking sigh. “You planted the bomb exactly where I told you?”

“Yes, boss— I swear I did it, I don't know how she survived it boss I—”

Titus cursed under his breath. “Keep your stinky mouth shut before I blow your brains out. She's supposed to be dead! But here we are, back to square one”

My nails dug painfully into my palms beneath the covers as rage boiled beneath my skin.

“So…boss, my payment?” Paulo asked after a moment. His voice was light, as though we weren’t talking about someone’s life. About my life.

Titus leaned back in his chair, a cruel edge creeping into his voice. “Five million was the deal, wasn’t it?” He let the silence linger, drawing out the tension.

“Yeah boss, you know I need the money for my mother's surgery,” Paulo replied warily.

“Well,” Titus said with a humorless laugh, “unfortunately, you didn’t do your job.”

“What?” Paulo’s voice sharpened.

Titus leaned forward, his voice deadly calm. “You had one task—one—and you screwed it up. She’s still alive, Paulo. And you know what that means?”

Paulo swallowed audibly. “I… I saw the blast! I don’t understand how—”

“Save it,” Titus cut him off coldly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave this town. Now. And if I even smell your pathetic existence anywhere near here, or if you breathe a word about what we did, I’ll make you wish you never crawled out of your mother’s womb.”

Paulo sucked in a sharp breath, but Titus wasn’t finished.

“In fact,” Titus added, his voice as smooth as poison, “I’ve already sent a little farewell package. Let’s just say your dear old mother won’t be waiting for you when you get home.”

“What did you do?” Paulo’s voice trembled. “Boss— don't tell me you did what I think you did boss — she's the only one I have boss”

Titus smiled—a cold, wicked sound. “She’s dead, Paulo. I chopped her into neat little pieces. Consider it a parting gift—and a reminder of what happens to people who disappoint me.”

A part of me broke at that moment, like glass shattering into countless sharp fragments.

This was no accident. It had never been an accident. My heart raced painfully as the dreadful reality set in—Titus, my husband… Vynessa, my sister… even Paulo, my loyal driver.

They had conspired against me. They had plotted my demise. And I had placed my trust in them, loved them, completely unaware that they were the ones holding the knife to my back.

I wanted to scream, to weep, to take some action, but I was frozen, unable to move or speak. I had to remain silent. I needed to hear it all.

“One more thing,” Titus commanded, his tone sharp and authoritative. “Remove her womb.”

The doctor gasped in shock. “What? Sir, that’s—”

“Do it,” Titus ordered, his voice harsh. “She’s a distraction. I never truly loved her. With Vynessa pregnant, Marcella is of no use to me.”

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I lay there, powerless. I had loved this man. I had given him everything. And he had broken me beyond repair.

The doctor hesitated, but Titus wasn’t finished. He seized the man by the collar, his voice dangerously low. “When she wakes up, I want her empty.”

I felt a sharp prick as a needle entered my arm.

I fought against it, desperate to stay awake, but my body betrayed me. My eyelids grew heavy, and my vision faded.

As darkness enveloped me, I felt a breath against my ear.

“Sleep now, Marcella,” Titus whispered, his voice laced with twisted amusement.

“And when you wake up, your nightmare will truly begin.”