I was raised to believe that love meant endurance.

That if I loved him enough, I could survive anything.

For seven years, I was stationed at the border—alone, bleeding, freezing, nearly dying more times than I can count.

Every transfer request I submitted was denied.

Every time I asked why, I was told the same thing: the family needed me. The alliance came first. Others needed protection more than I did.

What I didn’t know was this—

Every sacrifice I made was approved by the man who claimed to love me.

Adrian Holt, the Don who raised me, protected me, promised I would be his Donna one day…

He was the one signing my name away year after year.

He chose widows. He chose alliances. He chose power.

And he chose for me—without ever asking.

Because he was certain of one thing:

That no matter what he did, I would never leave him.

He believed love meant I would understand.

That loyalty meant silence.

That I would forgive anything—as long as he said he loved me.

So when I finally walked away, I didn’t argue.

I didn’t beg.

I disappeared.

And that was the moment his world collapsed.

Now he’s tearing through cities, alliances, and his own sanity trying to find me—

Too late realizing that love is not sacrifice when only one person bleeds.

This is not a story about redemption.

It’s a story about what happens after you lose the woman who endured everything…

And finally chose herself.

I was the junior capo of the Holt family, stationed at one of our family’s remote border outposts for seven long years.

I slept in a half-abandoned safehouse, its walls cracked, pipes leaking, the air thick with dust and the smell of mildew.

I ate whatever rations were left—hard, tasteless bread and canned meat that had lost its flavor years ago.

I patrolled the outskirts under the scorching desert sun, dodging sandstorms that shredded my skin, and in the nights, I crouched behind crumbling walls, listening to distant gunfire echo across the valley.

From the celebrated “Double-Gun Princess” of the family’s military academy—admired by every student for my sharpshooting, fearless tactics, and unmatched skills—I had been reduced to a shadow of myself, thin, worn, and haunted by the weight of years spent in exile from the city and the family I once

But I endured it all.

Because I had a reason—

finish stabilizing the outpost, return to 意大利,

and finally marry the man I’d loved since childhood: Adrian Holt.

So every year, without fail, I submitted a transfer request.

And every year, the answer was the same:

“Denied.”

I thought it was because the territory was unstable.

Because no one else could fill the role.

Because the family needed me there.

…Until this year—when the family finally gave me a short, precious seven-day leave.

I spent three days and two nights on a train, and the moment I arrived in the city, I went straight to headquarters to see Adrian.

But just as I reached his office door, I heard the sound of a rubber stamp hitting paper—

sharp, final.

Then Adrian’s calm voice:

“Denied. Again.”

I froze.

Because the name on that file—was mine.

His right-hand man, Elias, spoke in a low, strained voice:

“Boss… it’s the seventh year.

You’re still refusing to let Miss Frost come home?”

“Year one—Miss Frost qualified to return.

But because the European families demanded someone young and influential stationed at the border to negotiate, you insisted she stay.

You said she was the perfect piece to protect Holt interests.”

My stomach turned to ice.

That year, I almost got killed in a raid.

“Year two—the underboss’s child was taken.

You needed someone expendable to hold the border and draw fire.

You chose Miss Frost. Again.”Bait.

I was bait.

Because the underboss’s child of the Holt family mattered more.

And the seventh year…

Elias’s voice trembled:

“This year… You gave the transfer spot to Fianna—the widow of the family.

The wife of a man who died serving the family.”

My lungs stopped working.

“I spent years rotting in dust and gunfire, a pawn in his hands, sacrificed so he could protect another widow of the family.”

Elias’s voice cracked:

“I saw her last month—she’s skin and bones, her hands covered in frostbite, her hair like dry straw… She’s waited for you seven years.”

“You clearly love her. Then why push her into the most dangerous border zone again and again?”

“Anyone with eyes can see what that place does to people.”

“If she ever realizes you were the one who kept her there—”

He paused, then asked quietly,

“Are you really prepared to lose her?”

Inside the office.

I gripped the doorframe so hard my nails dug into the wood.

Then Adrian finally spoke—

“Of course I love Frost.”

His voice was calm, assured—almost indulgent.

“She loves me too. She won’t leave.”

“She’ll understand why I had to make these choices.”

He paused, as if this were a simple truth that required no further explanation.

“For a Don,” he continued coolly,

“power comes first.”

“The family’s future comes first.”

“Alliances always come first.”

As if love were something that could wait.

As if I were something that could be sacrificed.

I stood there in the shadows, every word cutting deeper than the last.

He was so sure I loved him enough

to stay,

to endure,

to understand being chosen last.

And in that moment, something inside me broke completely.

Each word sliced through me.

He continued, emotionless:

“This year’s transfer goes to Fianna. Among all the others who might need it, none of them matter as much as her. She’s only been gone six months, but she’s the widow of a soldier who died for the family. We can’t afford to put her life in danger.”

He would personally go pick her up.

But for seven long years, he wouldn’t let me come home.

My chest compressed painfully, like someone had reached inside me and crushed my heart with their bare hands.

I didn’t open the door demand answers.

I ran.

Like someone fleeing a battlefield she had already lost.

Cold winter wind slapped my face as I burst out of the building, stumbling down the steps.

Seven years ago, I had just turned eighteen.

He told me—

if he was a Don of the family, then his fiancée had to lead by example too.

He said going to the border for one year would prove our loyalty, our unity.

I believed him.

I loved him.

And I thought one year would fly by.

One year became seven.

Seven years I gave him everything.

And he didn’t even give me a way home.

And all I could think was—

I had to leave the man who said he loved me, but never once chose me.

When I got home, I finally replied to the email that had been inviting me—once a year, for seven years.

“I accept the position as an FBI consultant.

I’ll report to the Los Angeles headquarters in three days.”

I packed my suitcase, booked the flight, took a shower, and tried to sleep.

I’d barely started drifting off when voices drifted in from the courtyard.

“…Don, I can’t thank you enough. I hate troubling you this late.”

Fianna.

“Don’t mention it,” Adrian Holt said, his voice low, steady, commanding. “This is your sister’s house. Frost has been stationed overseas for years; she barely returns. An empty house is still an empty house. Since your apartment is compromised, stay here. As long as you need.”

A cold shock ripped up my spine.

I sat up, threw the covers off, and ran—barefoot—straight to the door. I yanked it open.

The two figures in the courtyard turned toward me at the same time.

Adrian stood tall in a dark wool coat, broad-shouldered, the silver moonlight outlining him like a blade.

Fianna huddled beside him in a worn coat and a scarf, eyes red as if she'd been crying for hours—every inch the fragile damsel tucked under a powerful man’s wing.

For a split second, Adrian looked glad to see me.

Then he seemed to realize what my presence meant.

And his face went still.

No joy.

No “you’re home.”

Only cold scrutiny.

And displeasure.

“Frost?” His brows drew tight. “What are you doing here? Your reassignment request was denied. Who authorized you to return without permission?”

The words hit harder than any bullet.

I had traveled halfway across the world for him.

And the first thing he did was question why I dared show up.

Was I always meant to stay tucked away in that godforsaken border territory?

I swallowed. “My request was denied. But I was seriously injured. The family granted me seven days of medical leave.”

“Injured?” Adrian’s face shifted. He stepped forward fast. “Where? How bad?”

I lifted my sleeve.

Under the moonlight, my arm—once pale and soft—was a map of survival:

deep scars from frostbite, cuts from broken equipment, bruises from hauling crates, burns from improvised repairs…

Ugly. Raw. Brutal.

Adrian’s pupils constricted sharply.

“What happened to you? Frost—what the hell—how did it get this bad?”

I let him hold my arm.

For once, I didn’t pull away.

“The heaters at the outpost failed during a snowstorm.

We held the line at minus thirty, weapons icing over, fingers going numb around the triggers.”

I kept my voice flat.

“Metal railings and gun barrels froze solid. If you touched them without insulated gloves, your skin tore when you pulled away.”

“The border routes were constantly hit. Ambushes at night, sniper fire at dawn. Shrapnel didn’t always kill—but it lodged under the skin, and you learned to keep moving anyway.”

“When we ran supply and ammunition, the weight of the gear cut into our shoulders and ribs. The straps soaked through with blood, stiffened when they dried. Taking them off reopened the wounds every single time.”

I wasn’t emotional.

I wasn’t accusing him.

I was just telling the truth.

Every word landed on him like a blow.

He trembled. His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered with shock, pain, guilt—

Until Fianna finally decided to speak.

“Oh, come on, Holt,” she said softly, with that trembling-little-bird voice she’d perfected. “It’s not that bad. I was stationed in that region for half a year. It was rough, sure, but not like she’s describing.”

Her eyes slid to me, gentle on the surface, sharp underneath.

“Sis… maybe you’re exaggerating a little because you want Holt to feel sorry for you? To get him to bring you back sooner?”

Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water—

and I watched the flicker of emotion in Adrian Holt’s eyes die instantly.

The guilt, the brief softness… gone.

In their place came a sharp, wounded anger.

“Frost,” he snapped at me, “your assignments are determined by the organization. Don’t try to manipulate me like this. When your leave ends, you’ll report back. And stop entertaining thoughts you shouldn’t have.”

I actually wanted to laugh.

But my lips wouldn’t move.

I parted them to speak—

and he cut me off again.

“Right. You’re Fianna’s sister. Her place collapsed last night—the whole damn side wing caved in. Since you have extra rooms here, she’ll stay with you for now.”

“No.”

“If you want to ‘take her in,’ let her stay at your place.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Adrian barked. “A man and a woman living under the same roof? What would people say?”

“Then find her someplace else.”

I wasn’t backing down.

“Frost!” His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. “You’re being unbelievably selfish. Fianna’s husband died for the family—she’s a widow of the family. As the future Donna, you should know how to treat the relatives of our fallen men.

And she’s your sister!”

Future Donna?

Selfish?

I looked at him—at that righteous fury like he was some saint—and all I felt was a bitter, humorless laugh rising in my throat.

When he denied my transfer requests again and again, leaving me to freeze and bleed in the Border—was I the future Donna then?

When he kept giving my return slots to other soldiers, so I couldn’t even see my dying grandmother one last time—

where was this lecture on duty?

Now he wanted to preach?

I was tired. Bone-deep tired.

“Don,” I said, steadying my breath even as something sharp twisted deep in my chest, “Fianna can stay. But only for seven days. When my leave ends, she leaves too. If she’s still here after that… I won’t be polite.”

“You—” Adrian began.

But Fianna gently touched his sleeve, her eyes shimmering like she was one breath from tears.

“Adrian… don’t fight with my sister. Seven days is fine. My house should be repaired soon. I won’t trouble Frost longer than that.”

Her soft, fragile act made me look cold. Cruel. Heartless.

Adrian swallowed his anger, turned to her, and said, “Stay for now. If you need anything, call me.”

Then he faced me—his voice low, hard.

“Treat her well. No attitude.”

And he turned and walked out without a single glance back.

The moment the gate shut, Fianna’s entire demeanor snapped away like a discarded mask.

“Surprised to see me, Frost?” she said, voice dripping venom. “Adrian called me back himself. He even picked me up from the station.”

My hand paused over the table I was wiping, but I didn’t answer.

She stepped closer.

“I’ve loved Adrian since I was a kid. But he only ever saw you. Funny how things change, isn’t it?”

Her eyes glittered with malice.

“God, you look nothing like the girl who used to turn heads at every gala. No wonder Adrian keeps denying your transfer. Men don’t bring back what’s already lost its shine.”

She leaned in, whispering like she wanted every word to cut.

“You can’t hold a man because you’re not worth holding. But don’t worry—I’ll take good care of him. After all… I’m a widow of the family. He has a ‘duty’ to me.”

I lifted my eyes to her then.

She flinched.

“Are you done?” I asked quietly.

She blinked, taken aback.

“Then go back to your room,” I said, resuming my work. “You’re ruining the view.”

Fianna stiffened, furious, but something in my indifference made her swallow whatever insult she wanted to spit.

She huffed, turned, and slammed the guest room door.

I finished cleaning, showered in the cramped bathroom, and went to my room.

Her lights were off.

I didn’t care enough to wonder why.

I closed my door and slept.

—

Shouting tore me out of my sleep.

“Fianna! Fianna—hey! Stay with me! Wake up!”

Adrian’s voice.

My heart lurched into my throat.

I threw on a coat and ran outside—

—and froze.

The courtyard was still blanketed with untouched snow.

And Fianna was curled in the corner, wearing nothing but a thin nightdress, skin blue-white, lips nearly black, shivering like she’d spent the entire night freezing alone.