I picked up a bill from the floor and threw Alessandro's family ring down in its place. "Keep the change. Consider it payment for this cheap piece of trash!"

"Hey! Come back! You took our money, but we didn't get a show!"

Alessandro's crude remark triggered roaring laughter throughout the room.

I clenched my jaw and my fists, then turned and left. Clearly no one took my threat seriously. Fine. They'd see soon enough what was coming for them.

I barely made it back to my apartment before a vicious headache hit me. I had to call an ambulance to take me to the hospital.

At first, I thought the ice-cold champagne had triggered some kind of nerve reaction. But then the nurse came in with my diagnostic report.

"The preliminary scan suggests you might have a brain tumor. What we know for certain is that you're almost three months pregnant."

The universe had a sick sense of humor. The news hit me like a freight train. But there was no time to wallow. I frowned, trying to figure out my next move.

"Don't worry about the cost. We have a charitable fund from Mr. Pushkin that covers 80% of your expenses. You're so lucky!

"He's gorgeous and generous, basically the perfect dream man!"

The nurse practically glowed as she spoke.

The perfect dream man. What a joke!

Shouldn't the person worthy of praise be me, the one who'd been dirt poor but still used her own blood money to save his life? He had millions of dollars, and this so-called generosity was pocket change to him.

I ripped the IV needle out of my arm.

"Oh, my God, what are you doing?" the nurse shrieked.

I didn't have time to explain. I left the hospital and dialed Alessandro's number.

Please, God. For the sake of this child, let him answer just this once.

"Hello?" He actually picked up.

I got straight to the point. "Listen, I wasn't planning to call you, but I need to tell you something. I'm pregnant with your child."

"What? Cecilia? Cristina! Not so tight, God, I'm gonna lose it!"

Maybe God had been listening one second ago, but Alessandro dragged me right back to hell. I heard moaning on the other end. Images of them together flashed through my mind.

The nausea made me want to hurl my phone away and give my ears and sanity some peace. But for the sake of the baby in my belly, I tried to stay rational.

"When you're finished, I'll call you back."

Just as I was about to hang up, Cristina grabbed the phone.

"Cecilia? He's got me so worked up I can barely think straight. Why are you calling? Ready to come back and clean toilets? Come clean our bedroom later, and I'll give you extra tip money."

"Shit! Cristina, it's your fault for not focusing!" Alessandro complained in the background.

"You know what, Cristina? He never finished that fast with me. And yes, I am coming back!"

I hung up before the bitch could respond.

I flagged down a taxi. I had to go back. I needed to know how Alessandro felt about this child. His answer would determine his judgment.

When I returned to the mansion, the guard at the door didn't stop me. He whistled instead.

"Hey, sweetheart! You were smoking hot the other night!"

I decided to use this sleaze to my advantage and pressed close to his body.

"Tell me where Alessandro is, and I'll make you scream for your mamma tonight."

"He's in the basement. You don't need to bribe me, though, sweetheart. Mr. Pushkin said if you came back to work as a maid, you could come and go freely."

I wasn't about to waste energy on some lowlife. I slapped him across the face and headed down the stairs to the sound of his grating laughter.

Through the crack in the door, I saw Alessandro on the phone.

"I don't want to marry her, Dad! Are you selling me off like merchandise? You know Cristina and I have been together since we were kids! Don't tear us apart!

"Hello? Damn it!"

He talked about Cristina like some devoted lover, like they were childhood sweethearts. So what the hell was I?

He waited for hours in the freezing rain just to pick me up after my shift. He beat the hell out of some drunk who wouldn't leave me alone, even with healing wounds still on his body. He held me close and told me he could only sleep peacefully when I was with him.

But all of it dissolved like smoke before my eyes.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. When I heard his father hang up on him, I pushed the door open and walked in.

"Who does your father want you to marry?"

The words tumbled out. Maybe I just wanted confirmation that would finally kill whatever hope I had left.

"Cecilia? You scared the hell out of me! Even if I told you, you wouldn't know her. Besides, it's none of your business."

His response felt like a slap across the face, yanking me out of my memories and back to reality. The Lussian Don probably didn't even know I existed.

Alessandro was the second son in his family. He had a capable older brother, and to avoid disappointing his father, he'd probably never even mentioned his near-death experience.

I was destined to be forgotten by everyone. But my child wouldn't be!

I threw the pregnancy test results in his face. He froze. His eyes scanned the report, and his expression changed completely.

In suffocating silence, Alessandro looked me up and down. His eyes held mockery, disdain, and even disgust.

"Today's not April Fools' Day. You're not seriously claiming the kid is mine, are you?"

I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head.

"Isn't it?" My voice trembled.

"Come on, Cecilia. You're a stripper. You probably can't even remember which men you slept with three months ago!"

"You bastard, I only danced! During that time, you were the only one I was with!" I shoved him furiously.

He grabbed my flailing hands and said with forced patience, "Fine. When the baby's born, we'll do a paternity test. If it's mine, I'll have Cristina adopt him."

What? My child, the baby I'd carry for nine months, handed over to someone else to raise? And Alessandro looked so magnanimous about it, like I should be grateful!

Rage consumed me until I felt completely drained.

"You know what, Alessandro? I just didn't want my child to be illegitimate."

I stopped struggling and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

"What do you expect me to do? I could never marry a stripper!"

Only when I could no longer hear Alessandro's damned voice did I pull out my phone and send the plan to a contact.

The second it went through, Cristina's voice came from behind me without warning, "Marco, grab this tramp!"

Before I could react, I was lifted off the ground. Cristina's man threw me down in front of her portrait, which hung nearly ten feet up the wall.

He grabbed my hair and forced me to look up at Cristina's image like I was bowing before a queen.

"Poor little thing. You dare provoke the future Madre of the Pushkin family again and again! Now, I'll teach you obedience!"

I laughed with contempt. The real poor little thing was still dreaming about becoming Madre.

My laughter set her off. She lifted her foot and stomped brutally on my hand. The sharp Prada heel sent pain shooting straight to my core.

"Think this is a game? This is mafia territory. The flowers in the backyard are fertilized with the blood and flesh of dead men!"

"Is that the best you've got?" I smiled without flinching.

"What?" She seemed unsure she'd heard me correctly.

"I said the future Madre of the Pushkin family is pretty pathetic."

I wrenched Marco's pinky back until it snapped. He screamed and released me. As I got to my feet, he swung at me.

I dodged smoothly and slipped behind him. Then, I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my arm around his neck.

The six-foot-three Soldato collapsed under my rear naked choke. Cristina, who'd been staring in shock, finally remembered to reach for her gun.

But then, a massive explosion shook everything. The shockwave knocked us both down.

Half the mansion wall crumbled. Through the smoke, several men in black emerged.

The one-eyed man leading them carried a heavy machine gun. He snarled, "Take both women."

Cristina and I were roughly thrown over shoulders and tossed into a Hummer. Unlike my calm reaction, Cristina kept shrieking.

"Do you know who I am? Do you have a death wish?"

Someone slapped duct tape over her mouth.

The Hummer tore out of the neighborhood, and gunfire erupted behind us. Looking back, I saw Alessandro and his men in pursuit, firing wildly at the vehicle ahead.

The chase ended at the container yard by the docks. The men in black forced us out at gunpoint.

Seeing the situation, Alessandro didn't dare make any rash moves. "What's your problem with us?"

The one-eyed man replied, "Tell your punk crew to get the hell out of Chilego's underground gambling scene."

"You're with the Columbo family?"

"What do you think, kid?"

Alessandro went pale at the confirmation. "That's no problem."

"But we didn't come all this way for nothing. You can only take one. That's the rules." The one-eyed man's tone left no room for argument.

I watched Alessandro hesitate. Finally, his guilty gaze landed on me. "I choose the blonde."

He'd just sentenced me to death.

"Jesus, Alessandro! I'm carrying your child!" I collapsed to my knees, shaking my head and reaching for him.

This was the first time I'd broken down crying in front of him. It was also the first time I'd begged.

"Please, my baby already has a heartbeat!"

But all I heard was, "I'm sorry, Cecilia. Please forgive me."

The gunshot cracked through the air, and I went down. Blood slowly seeped out.

I watched Cristina run excitedly into his arms. They embraced, kissed, celebrated their survival and reunion, and then drove away until they disappeared from my sight.

"Principessa, get up. They're gone. How do we make them pay now?" The one-eyed man helped me up gently.

"Death isn't humiliation for the mafia. I want them destroyed and disgraced."

I stood and wiped off the honey mixed with red dye. My expression was blank as I stared in the direction they'd gone.

Our game was just beginning, Alessandro.