I saved my husband, Raffaello, the Don of the mafia, from the hands of a rival family. In return, he forced me to kneel before his childhood sweetheart, Sofia, and bark like a dog just to cheer her up.

Our son, Lorenzo, wandered into the family's chemical plant out of childish curiosity, so I dragged him out with my own hands. Only for him to look me in the eye and said that I wasn't worthy of being his mother.

What my husband didn't know was that when the assassins came for him, I had deliberately drew them away, letting them capture me instead. They had injected a virus into body, which burned my throat and destroyed my voice forever.

What my son didn't know either was that inside the chemical plant where I rescued him, I had inhaled an overwhelming amount of toxic powder, which later caused me to have severe asthma.

That night, when my asthma flared up and my lungs began to fail, I used what little strength I had left to call my husband.

He impatiently rebuked me, "Grace, stop bothering me for once. A person who is really dying wouldn't make such a scene. Don't think that I don't know that you're just jealous, trying to compete with Sofia for my attention."

I collapsed into the snow, greedily gasping for the final breath of air. Then, everything went still.

Later, Raffaello, who never loved me lost his mind. He injected the same virus over and over again into his body, just to feel the pain I once endured.

Lorenzo, who refused to acknowledge me, attempted suicide repeatedly, begging fate to trade his life for mine.

But, sadly, by then, I no longer loved them.

Raffaello angrily threw his phone at my face, screaming, "I told you already! Sofia's lower back has been bothering her. Every afternoon, I go over to give her a massage. What the hell is wrong with you, calling me ninety-nine times?!"

A sharp pain exploded across my cheek, but my heart hurt more.

As the undisputed boss of New Wark City's largest mafia family, Raffaello had bent all his rules for Sofia, all because she casually whined about 'being tired.'

He had learned how to be a masseur from the best doctors, just so he could head to her daily to ease the strain on her left by piano practice.

Raffaello irritatedly loosened his collar, and I immediately noticed a fresh hickey on his neck. There were love scratches on his collarbone as well.

That afternoon, I had trouble breathing once more. The doctor told me that my life was in danger and that I should contact my family.

I called Raffaello 99 times, but not once did he pick up.

I waited for him until midnight when he returned home. Not a single sentence of concern. Only a torrent of abuse was hurled at me, as if interrupting his devotion to Sofia was a crime.

I tried hard to hold back the tears that welled up in my eyes, not letting them fall. I explained aggrievedly, "I was unwell today. The doctor told me to–"

Before I could finish my sentence, Raffaello coldly interrupted me, "Don't use your body as an excuse. You used to be an extreme sports junkie. Since when were you so fragile? You using this kind of trick to get my attention just disgusts me."

The suffocating pressure returned. I watched him leave, unable to argue back.

I recalled when we first got married.

With reddened eyes and a tearful gaze, he promised me in front of our entire family in the church, "Grace, I will love and pamper you forever. If I ever mistreat you after marriage, you can leave me. You can punish me by never letting me see you again."

Not long after his vows, I sacrificed myself to be captured by the rival families to draw the assassins away from him. They kidnapped me and injected a virus into my body, which destroyed my vocal cords.

After that, when our son, Lorenzo, wandered into our family-owned chemical plant out of curiosity, I had to drag him out myself, inhaling toxic dust until my lungs burned beyond repair.

That was how I was diagnosed with severe asthma.

The first time I had an asthma attack, Raffaello had me help with Sofia's piano recital. He got me to move a nearly 400-kilogram grand piano together with several men onto the stage.

The intense movement made me gasp for air. I fell in front of him, begging him to take me to the hospital, yet he said, "I never knew you had asthma. Stop pretending, Grace. I know you just don't want to help Sofia, so you faked an illness to get out of this!"

Not long after, I passed out backstage. It was the janitor who happened to stumble upon me who took me to the hospital.

The second time I had an asthma attack, Sofia falsely accused me of sabotaging the piano that she had gifted to Lorenzo. She said I had inserted razor blades in between the piano keys.

She hugged Lorenzo tightly, sobbing as she accused me in front of Raffaello, "I know Grace has always disliked me. I'll leave! But Lorenzo is her son. How could she do that? She's evil!"

That time, Raffaello got really mad. He locked me up in the family's punishment chamber, making me kneel on a floor covered in broken blades.

My legs were torn to pieces as blood pooled beneath me.

I fell to the ground, barely able to breathe. Like a dog about to die, I begged him to let me out.

He still insisted on locking me up for 24 hours. It was not until I passed out that he agreed to let me go.

The clock rang, dragging me back to the present. I looked at the time and realized that it was Lorenzo's bedtime.

I casually dealt with the injury on my head before heading to warm up a glass of milk. I brought it to the piano room.

The moment I entered, he stopped what he was doing and backed away from me. "I don't dare to drink the milk that you have heated. Who knows if you've poisoned it?"

The previous incident had traumatized him. Even after we found out that it was the piano manufacturer that accidentally left the razor blades in, the tension between my son and me remained.

"What are you still standing there for? Get out! Daddy told me once that you even stole Sofia's scores. I don't want to stay with a thief!"

I could not stand my own son looking at me with contempt. I left and closed the door gently behind me.

I leaned against the wall and gasped for air. My lungs started to hurt again.

I always knew that my husband and son hated me.

When Raffaello was ambushed and left bleeding in an abandoned factory, he never knew I lured the enemies away so his men could find him alive. He only knew that I was not there to care for him when he was recovering in the hospital.

When Lorenzo collapsed in the chemical plant, unconscious and dying, he never knew I was the one who carried him out. He only knew that I wasn't there to soothe him when he woke up in shock at the hospital.

Those days when they needed me the most, it was Sofia who was with them.

Still, I was badly hurt as well. I was also recovering in the hospital. Thanks to Sofia's lies, however, they believed that I was out with other men.

When I returned home, covered with injuries, Raffaello pointed at me and yelled, "You thought that I'd die in that ambush, didn't you? That was why you abandoned your son and me to go out with other men. Now that you've been dumped, covered in injuries, you crawl back to me?"

I did not tell them that I was the one who sacrificed my life to save them both, that I was also recovering from injuries, because I did not want them to feel guilty.

I just did not expect that that would be the reason why they hated me. They used that to hurt me over and over again.

I poured the milk into the sink. When I walked past the piano room once more, I heard Lorenzo burying himself in Raffello's arms, crying, "Daddy, tomorrow is the school's family day. Can we bring Sofia with us? I don't want to go with the other woman. I hate her. Sofia should be my mother!"

My heart shattered. Tears instantly fell.

I did not finish hearing what was said as I fled from the scene right away.

Last year, I missed my son's family day due to an asthma attack. Unfortunately, his whole class mocked him for days because of it, which shattered whatever fragile bond we had.

That was why, even after hearing those heartbreaking words from him, I still got up early the next day and dressed up. I wanted to mend the relationship with my son.

However, I had just stepped out of the room into the living room to see Lorenzo excitedly running into Sofia's arms, while Raffaello smiled at them from the side, as if they were a real family.

A moment later, Raffaello noticed me. When he saw how stunned I was, he said coldly, "You always pretend to be sick. Who knows if you'll have an asthma attack again and can't make it? I don't want my son to be ostracized in school just because he doesn't have a mother, so I got Sofia to come and help."

He added, as if granting charity, "Fine. Since you want to come along, we'll go together."

Seeing how crestfallen I was, Sofia came over with Lorenzo in her arms, saying, "Grace, did my appearance upset you? Raffaello, why don't I leave? I don't want to come in between your family…"

Lorenzo was instantly displeased. He held onto her tightly as if worried she was going to run away.

Then, he turned and glared at me. "There's a talent showcase today. I signed up ages ago, and Sofia will accompany me on the piano. You can't play the piano; you're terrible at singing. If you start singing, everyone will mock me for having a monster as a mother!"

Then, Lorenzo took Sofia's hand and led her to the garage, leaving me behind.

So, this was the truth. They never planned to include me all along.

Holding back the stinging in my eyes, I quietly followed them.

For the entire day, Lorenzo stuck with Sofia, avoiding me like the plague. I had no choice but to watch them play games and go on stage together.

During the award ceremony, Raffaello passed his phone to me, saying, "The teacher wants a photo of us hanging on the school corridors. Take a few photos of us. Seems like bringing you here today wasn't completely useless after all."

The other parents, unaware of anything, looked at me and sighed in awe.

"Are you their nanny? The employers you work for have such a great relationship. Watching them play games together today, honestly–one of the most harmonious couples I've seen.

"You must be proud and happy to work for such a family. They even brought you along to family day."

I replied with an ugly smile while taking photos of them on stage. Seeing them holding the trophy together, beaming at each other, my heart quietly shattered into pieces.

Returning home that night, I was unusually quiet. I did not light the incense for them.

After their near-death experience, both of them often had nightmares and slept badly. I had gone to a priest to ask for a calming incense formula.

I lit the incense every night, which stopped them from having nightmares.

What they did not know was that one of the ingredients of the incense was the blood from the tip of the tongue of the person who loved them the most.

Every night when I lit the incense, I had to cut my tongue to get the blood out.

Even if it hurt like mad, even if I knew that this would have hurt my already damaged vocal cords even more, I still did it without any hesitation.

They had never noticed that my tongue had been covered in scars.

At night, when it was almost bedtime, Raffaello noticed that I had not moved, so he asked, feeling odd, "Are you not going to light the incense tonight?"

I nodded, but said nothing.

Lorenzo, next to us, said in disgust, "Your incense stinks like hell! I really don't know how you could have such terrible taste. You should've stopped it a long time ago."

My heart turned cold as I saw them heading to bed.

I muttered to myself, "I won't light the incense tonight. I won't do it at all, not anymore."

No one was worth taking care of in this family anymore.

I woke up the next morning to see Sofia wearing an apron, busy cooking in the kitchen.

When she saw me, she excitedly tried to hold my hand. "Grace, I know that you don't like me to be close to your son, but in the days when you weren't there to care for them, I've always been by his side."

She added, "I'm not asking you to accept me. I just ask that you don't stop me from seeing him, okay?"

She had tears down her face, but her eyes were gleaming triumphantly.

All of a sudden, as the sound of the lock clicked and the door opened, Sofia yelped, "Ahh!

"I was really trying to apologize to you, Grace! I get it if you don't forgive me, but did you have to shove me like that?"

Sofia fell to the table, sweeping the entire table of dishes to the floor. Shards of plates and food were scattered all across the dining room.

Raffaello rushed over and helped Sofia up. "Grace! When you were out and about with other men instead of looking after our son and me, it was Sofia who looked after us! She's our savior. How could you torment her like this?!"

He shoved me to the ground, and I fell among the broken shards. My arms were instantly cut as blood spilled across the wool rug.

"Ahh! I didn't–"

I gasped and tried to explain myself when he flipped the entire table. "Enough! I don't want to listen to your excuses."

The table hit my back hard, and I felt as if my back was about to break. It hurt so badly that I almost passed out.

Raffaello said icily, "I've given in too much to your whims. You'll kneel and clean this up today! Don't you dare get up until you finish cleaning this entire place!"

While putting on her act, Sofia had been accidentally burned by the food. The back of her hand had a red patch, so Raffaello picked her up and rushed her to the hospital.

My injuries were a thousand times more serious than hers, but Raffaello could not see it at all.

After he left, Lorenzo picked up one of the shards and flung it at me. "You evil woman! If you ever hurt Sofia again, I'll get Daddy to divorce you and kick you out!"

The shard ran down my cheek, drawing a long gash. Compared to the cut on my face, my son's cutting words hurt far worse.

I began to heave as my lung spasmed in waves. I fell to the ground, struggling. My limbs started to go numb as I could not get enough air into my body.

Desperately, I fumbled through my pockets for the emergency inhaler.

Nothing.

"Looking for this?" Lorenzo's foot was on the small bottle that must have rolled away at some point.

The next second, he snickered and kicked it further away from me. I could not grab it no matter how I reached it.

"Daddy was right–you just like to pretend to be sick to gain sympathy. Let's see if you'll die here today."

Then, he entered his room and closed the door.

Tears streamed down my face, into my mouth. It tasted bitter.

I had no choice but to crawl through the shards with difficulty to get to the inhaler.

When I finally got better, I cleaned my injuries and cleaned up the mess in the dining room.

When Raffaello had returned, it was already midnight. The home was spotless once more.

When he saw the bandages on me, his eyes gleamed a little furtively. "You were the one who hurt Sofia first. I had to defend her, so you had no choice but to suffer a little."

He added smugly, as if I was a charity case, "Sofia is having a concert in a villa up on the snowy mountains three days from now. I'll bring you along to get some fresh air. Consider this me making it up to you."

Since when did travelling with them become a reward?

I bore through the pain of my lungs spasming.

Amid all this, I remembered when the three of us went camping together as a family.

Back then, Raffaello would shed his icy demeanor as the Don of the mafia, just to cook for Lorenzo and me. Lorenzo would also always feed me first, saying that I should have priority on every dish.

Everything changed after all.