Serena’s POV

I was stuck in a hospital bed, still lightheaded from the blood loss. My arms ached, the world tilting every time I tried to sit up.

But the pain wasn’t what broke me.

It was the silence after everything.

I had lost my child.

And in the mafia world Nico Vescari ruled, grief didn’t slow anything down.

Someone sent me a video.

Nico at a black-tie Syndicate gala—wine in hand, laughing with foreign capos like nothing in his life had ever cracked.

Natalie beside him.

His hand at her waist like she was already branded into his empire.

Another clip came in later.

Private dinner. No cameras except the Syndicate’s own security feed.

He fed her dessert like she was the center of the room. Like I was just… background noise that had stopped existing.

He looked happy.

Like I had been erased cleanly.

When I was discharged, no convoy came.

No driver.

No Vescari men waiting at the gates.

Just me, a hospital bag, and the quiet humiliation of realizing I had officially fallen off his radar.

I still had nowhere else to go but the estate.

So I went back.

That was how I saw them.

Outside the private maternity wing of Vescari Medical.

Natalie glowing like she belonged in the highest tier of the underworld—designer coat, guarded by Syndicate nurses who only treated “protected women.”

Nico stood beside her, hand resting on her back like a claim.

A nurse passed and smiled brightly. “Mrs. Vescari, your checkup results look excellent.”

My stomach twisted.

Mrs. Vescari.

She didn’t even correct herself.

Neither did he.

I turned away before anyone saw my face break.

Then—

“Serena.”

His voice cut through the hallway like a drawn blade.

I stopped.

Of course he noticed me.

Nico always noticed what he still considered his property.

I turned slowly.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” I said flatly. “I just got discharged.”

Natalie clung to his arm immediately, soft and calculated.

“Babe,” she said, tilting her head, “let her come with us. She helped me before… with the blood thing.”

Like it was charity.

Like I wasn’t bleeding out for her child.

Nico exhaled. Then nodded once.

“Fine.”

That was it.

No hesitation.

No regard.

Just an order shifting me into his schedule like baggage.

So I got in the car.

Because in the Vescari Syndicate, you didn’t refuse a Don in public.

Even if he had already stopped seeing you as his wife.

The ride started in silence.

Then Natalie turned slightly in her seat, smiling.

“Oh,” she said lightly, as if remembering brunch gossip. “My underwear is still in the backseat.”

My head moved before I could stop it.

She giggled.

“Can you believe it, babe?” she said, looking at Nico. “After last week in the car?”

Nico’s mouth curved faintly. “You’re careless.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “You weren’t complaining when you had me against the door outside the border checkpoint.”

The car went quiet except for the engine.

Natalie leaned back, enjoying it.

“Or when you pulled over because I wouldn’t stop touching you—”

“Enough,” I said.

Not loud.

Just final.

Silence snapped shut instantly.

Even the driver stiffened.

Natalie only smiled wider, like she’d won something invisible.

I looked out the window instead.

My hands shook as I opened my phone.

Elio’s message was already waiting.

Flight confirmed. 9:00 PM. Private strip.

I stared at it for a second too long.

Then typed:

Thank you. I’m coming.

His reply came fast.

What happened? You can trust me.

My fingers paused.

I could tell him everything. He was the only man in the underground who had ever treated me like I wasn’t replaceable.

But I didn’t want another war started in my name.

So I answered:

I just need out.

That was enough truth.

The only one that mattered anymore.

The phone was suddenly yanked from my hand.

I went still.

Not startled.

Just… done.

I turned to Nico slowly.

“Seriously?” I asked quietly. “We’re doing that now?”

His eyes didn’t leave the road.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one you care about,” I said.

“What’s the passcode.”

I almost laughed.

“The day we met,” I said. “Try not to forget it this time.”

He tried.

Once.

Twice.

Locked.

Natalie leaned closer, amused.

“Just give up, Serena,” she said sweetly. “You don’t really have anyone left anyway.”

She looked at me like I was already erased from the Syndicate’s ledger.

Like I was no longer a wife.

Not even an enemy.

Just… expendable.

And for the first time—

I believed her.

Serena’s POV

When we got back to the estate, Nico didn’t even glance at me.

He walked Natalie straight inside like she was already registered in the house ledger—his hand steady on her back, his voice low as he called for the chef. Something about broth, something about cravings, something about her being “weak.”

Like the Vescari estate had suddenly become a clinic for her comfort.

I stood near the entrance with my suitcase still in hand, watching it all like I was a guest who had overstayed in a place I never owned.

As Nico came back down the stairs, he paused for half a second when he saw me heading toward the guest wing.

Then he spoke to the staff instead of me.

“Add two more dishes,” he said. “Serena’s favorites. Set a third place.”

I stopped walking.

Slowly.

For a second, I almost laughed.

So that was it. That was his version of fixing things.

Not an apology. Not a conversation. Just… food.

Like I was a capo who could be paid off with a seat at the table.

I didn’t answer. I just kept walking.

---

The guest room was cold when I stepped in.

Not the air—the estate was always perfectly controlled—but the feeling.

Empty.

Like the walls had already forgotten me.

I shut the door, dropped my suitcase, and knelt to unzip it.

I already knew what I was going to do next. Leave quietly. No scene. No warning.

But the moment I opened it—

My hands stopped.

Everything inside was destroyed.

My clothes were cut cleanly. Not ripped. Not torn.

Cut.

Deliberate. Precise. Like someone had used a blade instead of anger.

A message from someone who knew how to hurt without leaving noise.

My throat tightened.

Then I saw it.

My passport. My IDs. My documents.

Untouched.

Left carefully in the lining like a signature.

A warning.

Not a mistake.

Natalie.

Of course.

I exhaled slowly. No shock anymore. Just fatigue settling deeper into my bones.

I started packing what was left. Fast. Mechanical. No hesitation.

That was when the door opened.

No knock.

No permission.

I didn’t turn around.

“Natalie,” I said flatly.

She stepped in like she owned the corridor outside too. One hand held a small black vial—medical-grade, sealed. Syndicate clinic type.

Her eyes scanned the room before landing on me.

Then she smiled.

“Still here,” she said.

I stood.

She tilted her head. “After everything, you’re still trying to stay close to him. That’s kind of pathetic, Serena.”

I didn’t respond.

She walked around the room slowly, like she was inspecting seized property after a raid.

“Oh,” she said casually. “Your grandmother passed, right?”

My fingers went cold.

She watched my face carefully when she said it. Like she wanted confirmation of impact.

“You were begging him to go,” she continued. “Kneeling, crying. Very dramatic.”

My jaw tightened.

Natalie lifted her phone.

Tapped once.

Turned the screen toward me.

Nico.

Kissing her.

Captured in high resolution under the Syndicate’s own private security feed.

“This was the same day,” she said lightly.

My breathing caught.

I remembered that day.

I remembered the hospital calls. The urgency. The way I couldn’t even think straight.

And I remembered Nico’s voice.

I’m busy.

Busy wasn’t a meeting.

Busy was her.

Something in me went very still.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just… irreversible.

Natalie leaned back against the desk, watching me like she was enjoying the quiet collapse.

“You really weren’t important,” she said softly.

Silence stretched.

Then I laughed.

Once.

Low.

Sharp.

“You think this is power?” I said.

Her smile tightened slightly.

I stepped closer.

“You didn’t take anything from me,” I continued, voice steadying with every word. “You just exposed him.”

Natalie’s eyes flickered.

I tilted my head.

“You’re not his queen,” I said. “You’re just the distraction he hasn’t gotten bored of yet.”

That landed.

Her smile cracked at the edges.

“And one day,” I added quietly, “he’s going to realize you were never worth the blood he’s wasting on you.”

For the first time—

Natalie didn’t look amused.

Serena's POV

She shrugged, smug. “Still more than you.”

That was it.

I slapped the phone out of her hand.

It hit the marble floor with a sharp crack that echoed through the guest wing like a gunshot in a quiet room.

Natalie barely flinched before I was on her.

My hand closed around her throat.

Not enough to kill.

Enough to remind her what world she was standing in.

We slammed into the bedside table. A glass vial rolled off, hit the floor—

Then shattered.

The smell hit me first.

Gasoline.

My stomach dropped.

“Natalie—what the hell did you do?”

She smiled.

That same calm, sick little smile.

Then she flicked a lighter.

One spark.

That was all it took.

Fire didn’t grow.

It answered.

It burst across the carpet like it had been waiting under the surface the entire time, climbing the curtains, eating the walls, turning the room into a burning cage.

“Stop—!” I coughed, stumbling back as smoke filled my lungs.

Natalie grabbed me, shoving hard. We both hit the floor, scrambling as the fire split us apart like a blade.

Heat bit into my skin instantly.

The air turned sharp. Poisoned.

Somewhere in it, she screamed.

And then I fell.

---

“Serena!”

The voice cut through the chaos.

Nico.

At the doorway.

Black suit, smoke already curling around him, security men behind him trying to hold him back.

“Don’t go in, Don—!”

“Get off me!”

My chest tightened.

For one stupid second, I thought—

He came for me.

I pushed myself up, choking on smoke. “Nico!”

My voice cracked.

“I’m here!”

Natalie’s voice followed immediately behind me, soft, broken, perfectly timed.

“Nico… please…”

And everything in him shifted.

I saw it.

The switch.

He didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t look at me.

Didn’t even search the room.

He ran straight past me.

To her.

---

After that, everything blurred.

Smoke. Heat. Screams. The estate burning like a funeral pyre for something that was already dead long before the fire reached it.

I don’t remember deciding to move.

I just did.

Survival isn’t a choice in this world.

It’s instinct.

Pain hit first—then something deeper.

Not transformation.

Not magic.

Just the body refusing to die when it wasn’t finished yet.

My senses sharpened through the smoke. Every exit. Every draft. Every crack in the structure.

I grabbed my bag with shaking hands and ran.

Glass exploded as I threw myself through the window.

It tore into my side.

I didn’t stop.

I hit the ground hard, rolled once, coughed until my lungs burned raw.

Behind me, the estate roared.

The Don’s house.

The Vescari Syndicate’s pride.

Now just fire and collapsing lies.

I didn’t look back.

I ran through the service path. Through darkness. Through pain that didn’t matter anymore.

Until I found the gate.

Unlocked.

Left open like someone had already decided I didn’t need to be caught.

And I kept going.

Even when my legs gave out.

Even when my breath turned shallow.

I didn’t stop until the estate was gone.

---

The terminal was too quiet.

Like the world didn’t know I was supposed to be dead.

I sat in a corner seat, wrapped in a borrowed coat, blood dried at my side, hands still shaking slightly from adrenaline that hadn’t fully left.

My phone buzzed.

Nico.

Don’t play games, Serena. I don’t have time for hide-and-seek.

I stared at it.

No tears.

No rage.

No heartbreak left to spend.

Just emptiness where everything used to be.

Then I powered the phone off.

And for the first time in nine years—

Nico Vescari didn’t have a signal to reach me.