I once thought I would spend my entire life in love with my husband, Vincenzo, the Don of the De Luca family.

In the end, our whirlwind romance was no match for a childhood promise.

On the day Vincenzo went through with a sham marriage to his childhood sweetheart, Chloe, to honor a blood oath, I destroyed the penthouse we had filled with memories and left his city for good.

When Vincenzo used the family's entire intelligence network and still couldn't find me, the untouchable Don was driven mad.

Later, he offered a worldwide bounty for any information on my whereabouts and even publicly begged me to come back.

Too bad for him, I already wore another man's ring.

Vincenzo, nothing waits for you forever. Especially a love you strangled with your own hands.

At two in the morning, a sharp pain in my abdomen tore me from my sleep.

I instinctively reached for the space beside me. The silk sheets were cold. Vincenzo hadn't come home again.

The pain in my lower abdomen intensified, and a cold sweat soaked through my nightgown.

My hand trembled as I grabbed the encrypted phone and dialed his private number, the one only I could call.

It rang for a long time before someone finally picked up.

Before I could even speak, a young woman's soft, sweet voice came through the phone.

"Donna? The Don is in the shower. He's exhausted."

"If you need him, try again tomorrow. I'm hanging up."

"Wait, Chloe, let me talk to him… I…"

But she hung up before I could finish.

I refused to give up. Fighting the pain that threatened to pull me into unconsciousness, I dialed again.

This time, I was met with a cold, mechanical tone.

Lying on the enormous bed, I gasped in agony. A cold fear of death washed over me as tears slid silently down my face.

I didn't want to die like this. I was only twenty-eight. I still had my parents. I still had Vincenzo.

The will to survive forced me to move.

With no other choice, I broke a Family rule and dialed 911. While still conscious, I used the last of my strength to crawl to the front door and unlock the bulletproof lock.

Soon, the wail of an ambulance siren shattered the silence of the luxury apartment building.

In the emergency room, the doctor stared at the frantic numbers on the monitor, his expression grim.

"Ectopic pregnancy, ruptured fallopian tube, and massive internal bleeding. She needs surgery immediately."

By then, I had regained a sliver of consciousness. I gripped the nurse's hand and gave her Vincenzo's number.

"Call him… please."

The nurse tried calling again and again, only to shake her head at me helplessly each time.

A younger nurse looked at my deathly pale face, her eyes full of pity. "Do you have any other family? Or a friend we can call?"

I gave a bitter smile and shook my head.

My parents were in Tuscany. Even on the earliest flight, they wouldn't arrive until tomorrow afternoon.

Besides, my mother had a heart condition. She couldn't handle a shock like this.

Ever since marrying Vincenzo, I had lost all my connections outside the family.

It was only then I realized that besides the man who was now with another woman, I had nothing.

"Give me a pen."

I gasped for breath. "The surgical consent form. I'll sign it myself."

This was probably the most pathetic moment of my life.

Calling my own ambulance, signing my own consent form, facing a life-or-death surgery all alone.

Thankfully, I had money. That was the one thing Vincenzo was never stingy with.

Money bought me the best private nurse and a VIP room.

The surgery lasted all night. When I opened my eyes again, the morning sun streamed through the window, a little too bright.

Seeing I was awake, my nurse quickly handed me a glass of warm water, her voice tinged with lingering fear.

"Miss Vance, thank God. The doctor said if you had arrived just half an hour later, not even a miracle could have saved you."

I subconsciously touched my abdomen.

There was a new scar there, but a life was gone.

Vincenzo and I had tried for a baby for two years. We had imagined this child's arrival countless times, only for it to end in this tragedy.

I fought back my tears and pulled out my phone. I had to tell Vincenzo what happened.

This time, it was Vincenzo himself who answered.

"Vincenzo, I…"

"Elara, do you have any idea what the rules are?"

"Who gave you permission to call an ambulance? My man at the precinct reported flashing lights at the De Luca penthouse last night. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you've caused me?"

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a vise.

"I almost died… Vincenzo, last night I…"

"Enough. I know I've been neglecting you because of Marco, but did you have to pull a stunt like this to get my attention?"

He cut me off. "I was with Marco yesterday. He was having a rejection episode, and his condition was critical. Chloe was there too."

"And another thing, there's nothing going on between Chloe and me. She's like a sister to me. She's no threat to your position as the Donna of the De Luca family. Can you stop acting like some jealous, classless harpy?"

After a few seconds of dead silence, Vincenzo spoke again.

"Well? Say something, Elara?"

I opened my mouth, but my voice was raw and hoarse.

"I was trying to tell you, I had an ectopic…"

Before I could finish, I heard Chloe's panicked, tearful voice on the other end.

"Vincenzo! Stop talking on the phone! You have to come see Marco, the doctor says his vitals are dropping!"

"I have to go. This is important." The line went dead.

I stared at the white ceiling as my tears finally broke free, streaming from the corners of my eyes into my ears, chilling me to the bone.

Eight years. I had been with Vincenzo for eight years.

In those eight years, we survived gang wars and countless assassination attempts.

Two years ago, we stood before a priest and vowed to build an empire of our own.

But now, just three months after his blood brother Marco returned with his sister, I had become nothing more than an unreasonable, jealous madwoman in his eyes.

"Ha." I covered my eyes and, in that empty hospital room, laughed until my body shook, tears streaming down my face.

After I calmed down, the first thing I did was send the diagnosis report to Vincenzo.

If only to give our eight-year relationship some kind of closure.

I knew what Chloe and her brother meant to Vincenzo.

When Vincenzo was a child, his father was killed in a gang war, and his mother had a mental breakdown.

The neighboring Rossi family took Vincenzo in after he was orphaned.

Marco, a few years older, was the big brother he had trusted since childhood.

And Chloe was the little shadow who always trailed behind him.

Everyone assumed the future Don would marry his childhood sweetheart.

But during a firefight in a dark alley ten years ago, it was Marco who threw himself in front of a young Vincenzo.

A bullet meant for Vincenzo's heart had torn through Marco's lung instead.

After that, the Rossi family moved abroad and were gone for eight years.

I didn't know the exact reasons, only that it was for Marco to recover and to escape the violence of our world.

Until three months ago, when Chloe returned to New York with a dying Marco and came to Vincenzo for help.

And that was when Vincenzo started staying out all night.

When I asked, he was always at the hospital with Marco.

At first, out of respect for their brotherhood, and after learning the Rossi family had fallen on hard times, I used the De Luca family's foundation connections to find a lung specialist for Marco in Switzerland.

I truly believed that our eight years together were indestructible, that our relationship wouldn't crumble just because his old friend and childhood sweetheart had returned.

But gradually, I noticed my presence seemed to make both Vincenzo and Chloe uncomfortable.

It got to the point where Chloe would burst into pitiful tears whenever I appeared.

Later, Vincenzo forbade me from visiting. "Stay away from the hospital. Don't provoke them."

I didn't understand what was so wrong about a wife showing concern for her husband's savior.

But my upbringing kept me from making a scene like some girl from the streets.

I thought if I was just proper enough, just tolerant enough, he would come back to me once he had dealt with everything.

But the surgeon's scalpel last night had severed my last illusion.

Pulling myself together, I sent Vincenzo a text, attaching the diagnosis report for the ectopic pregnancy.

Meanwhile, in a private hospital room on the other side of Manhattan.

Vincenzo was staring at his phone screen, his brow furrowed.

I learned later that Chloe was nestled against his side at that moment and leaned in to look.

With just one glance, before Vincenzo could say a word, Chloe's eyes instantly reddened. Tears began to fall, one by one, as she spoke in a choked voice.

"I'm so sorry, Vincenzo… I never should have come back."

Her tears flowed freely. "The Donna must care about you so much… she's afraid I'll take her place. That's why she would make up such a… such a terrible lie. It's my fault. The very sight of me and my brother must offend her."

Vincenzo might have felt a flash of concern.

But then he considered it. Between the recent infighting in the Family and Marco's condition, he hadn't been home in three months, let alone touched me.

Three months apart. Where would a baby have come from?

He prided himself on knowing me, certain I would never betray him. This could only be a desperate play for his attention.

He stroked Chloe's hair, his voice exceptionally gentle.

"Silly girl, this has nothing to do with you."

"I've been too lenient with her. Now she doesn't even know where the line is."

Chloe threw herself into Vincenzo's arms, crying. "Thank you, Vincenzo. If it weren't for you, my brother and I would be dead."

Vincenzo patted her back, giving her his firmest reassurance.

After comforting Chloe for a while, Vincenzo finally found a moment to reply to my message.

[Elara, Marco doesn't have much time left. You know who he took that bullet for. As the Donna of the De Luca family, you should know better.]

[Stop cursing yourself with such vicious lies and stop trying to get sympathy over a child that doesn't exist. Once the funeral is over, I'll buy you that diamond you've always wanted. Stop making a scene.]

Eight years. I had stood by him through firefights and hails of bullets. I thought we were soulmates.

I once said that the only person in the world who truly understood me was Vincenzo.

It turned out that in his heart, I was just a crazy woman who would invent a miscarriage out of jealousy.

It doesn't take an army to break a person.

Just a constant stream of disappointments, until the last one finally extinguishes your hope.

I couldn't even feel anger anymore. Wiping my tears, I sent Vincenzo a one-word reply.

[Okay.]

Five days later, I checked myself out of the hospital.

I didn't contact Vincenzo. I just carried my small bag and, enduring the dull ache from my surgery, walked slowly out of the hospital building.

Just as I was about to call a car, a familiar black sedan pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing Vincenzo's trusted driver. "The Don sent me as soon as he got the message from the capo. He said he'll be home after he takes care of some business and told me to take you back first."

I leaned against the bulletproof glass, watching the Manhattan streetscape recede.

His "business," I figured, still had to do with Marco and Chloe.

Back at the penthouse, I got a call from my lawyer.

"Good. Draft the agreement and send it over. Yes, the sooner the better."

Just as I said that and was about to hang up, the door's security system beeped.

Vincenzo walked in, wearing a black overcoat handmade by his Italian tailor. In his hand, he held a bouquet of my favorite lilies of the valley, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"What agreement?"

Vincenzo tried to sound casual, as if the coldness on the phone days ago had never happened.

"It's about my finances," I said without looking at him, and started to walk away.

Vincenzo strode forward, loosening his tie and wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"Baby, I'm home."

In the past, I would have turned around, gently caressed his face, and given him a smiling kiss.

But now, as his familiar scent filled my nostrils, a wave of nausea washed over me.

I didn't want to say another word to him.

I shoved his arms away and walked straight into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

The click of the lock echoed in the silence. Vincenzo stood frozen, at a complete loss.

He couldn't understand why I was still throwing a tantrum. He was home now, so why was I still giving him the cold shoulder?

Vincenzo was angry. He took several deep breaths in the living room before composing himself.

"Forget it," he muttered to himself. "No matter how educated she is, she's still just a woman in the end. It's normal for women to be petty and jealous."

"She loves me to death anyway. A little coaxing is all it will take…"

With that thought, Vincenzo let out a soft snort and headed for the bathroom.

I had slept terribly in the hospital, haunted by images of Vincenzo defending the Rossi siblings every time I closed my eyes.

Even though I had decided on a divorce, letting go of so many years felt like tearing my soul from my body.

Wiping my tears, all I wanted was to sleep.

Just then, Vincenzo, trailing steam from his shower, pushed open the bedroom door, lifted the covers, and lay down beside me.

Before I could push him away, his long arms were already wrapped tightly around me from behind.

His searing chest pressed against my back. He leaned in, his calloused fingertips tracing my waist, his touch meant to ignite a familiar spark.

"It's been three months, Elara."

His lips brushed against my carotid artery, his voice hoarse. "Stop sulking. I know you want this."

Before, I would have melted in his arms. But now, the unhealed incision on my abdomen throbbed with a dull, insistent pain.

His touch at this moment felt utterly revolting.

"Don't touch me!"

Using all my strength, I shoved him away.

Vincenzo felt he had already humbled himself enough. He couldn't understand what I was still so angry about.

With an impatient sigh, Vincenzo sat up in bed.

"Elara, what more do you want from me? I saw those vicious texts you sent Chloe."

"Yes, Chloe and I grew up together, but I only see her as a sister. Why do you have to make us sound so sordid?"

"And Marco, he's like a blood brother to me. We've been through life and death together!"

"You lied about an ectopic pregnancy, and I let it go. You call to check up on me constantly, and I can forgive that. But can you just stop being so unreasonable?"

If I had any lingering reluctance about the divorce, it all turned to ash in that moment.

I looked at the man I had loved for eight years and felt like I was staring at a stranger.

"Vincenzo, I'm tired."

I pointed to the door. "Get out."

Vincenzo froze.

In this home, in all of New York, no one dared to tell him to "get out."

"You're telling me to get out?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

This was our home, our sanctuary. Where did I expect him to go?

But before he could demand an answer, the phone on the nightstand rang.

Vincenzo glanced at the screen, and the anger on his face vanished instantly.

"Vincenzo! Blood… so much blood!"

Chloe's terrified voice pierced through the speaker. "Marco's coughing up blood! The doctors are just shaking their heads. I'm so scared, you have to come!"

The color drained from Vincenzo's face. He was off the bed in a flash, grabbing his coat and rushing for the door while speaking into the phone.

"Don't panic. I'm on my way."

As I heard the front door slam shut, I finally closed my eyes.

But I didn't sleep. The thorn in my heart wouldn't let me rest.

On some strange impulse, I got up and dressed.

I was going to the hospital.

Not to win him back or to pick a fight.

I was going to serve him the divorce papers in person and make a clean break, once and for all.

When I arrived at the private hospital controlled by the De Luca family, the door to the top-floor VIP suite was slightly ajar.

Inside the somber room, Marco lay ashen-faced, an oxygen tube in his nose.

He opened his cloudy eyes and looked at Vincenzo with a pleading gaze.

"Vincenzo, I'm not going to make it…"

"The only person I can't bear to leave behind is Chloe… She's too innocent. This world will eat her alive."

"Brother, I'm asking you for one last thing…"

Marco was gasping for air, but every word he spoke was a dagger in my heart.

"Swear on the Family's name… marry Chloe. Give her the De Luca name, and protect her for the rest of her life."