I sometimes wonder if there's a limit to a person's self-debasement. I'm a prime example.

All those years ago, for a man who simply held an umbrella for me in the rain, I threw away an Ivy League education and a clean future, diving headfirst into a dark world I could never wash clean.

The Vincenzo back then wasn't the ruthless man he is today.

He would play jazz for me all night by the Hudson, get down on one knee, and swear I was the only thing he believed in.

The family elders looked down on me at first, mocking my humble origins and my ignorance of the underworld's rules.

Without a word, Vincenzo slapped a loaded Beretta on the table.

He even endured a whipping from the old Don that left him bloody and raw, but he never backed down.

I believed in those sincere, grey eyes.

To help him clean house within the family, I gambled with my career, single-handedly building the impregnable intelligence network we have today.

But all it took was one pout from Amelia, and he never chose me.

I'd confronted him more than once, asking why he crossed so many lines for Amelia.

He would just pin me beneath him, his fingers tracing the line of my spine.

"Jealous? Bella, I gave you entire docks when I was winning you over."

"Amelia and I have known each other for years. Is it too much to want to see her smile?"

In that moment, I understood.

Once he'd caught me, I went from his prey to his trophy. Something to be mounted on a wall for display, left to gather dust.

Tonight was the quarterly meeting of the family's inner circle.

As usual, I walked toward the seat reserved for the Donna, right next to the Don, but Vincenzo's hand landed on the back of the chair.

He didn't look at me. Instead, he turned to a timid-looking Amelia and waved her over.

"Amelia, come here. Sit."

"Donna, Vince said I could listen in on business matters. You don't mind, do you?"

She stared at the intelligence master key in my hand, her eyes full of greed and defiance.

I knew Vincenzo spoiled her.

But I never imagined he'd let her trample on the family's rules, on my dignity.

The meeting room fell silent. I looked at the man at the head of the table.

Vincenzo smiled nonchalantly and guided Amelia into the seat.

"Bella. Don't be so serious." He pointed to the far end of the long table. "You can sit over there for now."

Everyone knew that was the seat for new recruits.

I gave a self-mocking smile, said nothing, and walked over.

Throughout the meeting, Vincenzo listened intently as Amelia spouted her childish, laughable theories about my operations, letting out a low chuckle from time to time.

I once believed that indulgent gaze was reserved for me and me alone.

And for the first time, I was invisible at a family meeting.

Midway through, Amelia petulantly swirled her wine glass.

"Vince, I'd like some of that estate red."

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow, his gaze shooting across the long table and landing squarely on me.

"Isabella. The bottle behind you. Go pour some for Amelia."

I froze. He was telling his wife, the family's Donna, the city's Safety Officer, to pour wine for an outsider?

The Capos around me, who once treated me with the utmost respect, were now whispering amongst themselves.

"Looks like the winds are changing in the De Luca family."

"What's a Donna? If it makes Amelia happy, she's just a glorified waitress."

"I'd say it's not just the Donna title. That Intelligence Officer position will be the girl's sooner or later."

Vincenzo watched me with a raised eyebrow, as if expecting my obedience.

"What are you waiting for? You're the closest. Just help her out."

He winked at me. "Don't be so serious, darling."

I fought back the burn in my eyes as I looked at the man I had loved so desperately for so many years.

The classified archives I hadn't yet secured were my only leverage. I had no choice but to stand, pick up the decanter, and walk over to Amelia.

The scarlet liquid poured into the glass, like blood.

Amelia took the glass, her fingertips deliberately brushing the back of my hand. She then glanced at Vincenzo, as if seeking his approval.

"See? I told you the Donna is a very kind woman. She's even pouring my wine herself."

Vincenzo smiled, satisfied. He wrapped an arm around my waist and placed a kiss on my forehead.

I set down the decanter, the nauseating, suffocating feeling making me want to flee.

"I'm going to the restroom."

Before Vincenzo could respond, I turned and walked briskly out of the meeting room, shutting the door on the absurdity within.

I ducked into the lounge, locked the door, and sagged against the cold marble wall, gasping for air.

My heart ached as if it were being squeezed by a merciless hand.

Just then, the encrypted satellite phone vibrated.

The screen lit up with an anonymous audio file.

As if in a trance, I pressed play.

"Vince! I typed the code randomly! I didn't expect the network to crash... That massacre could have been avoided..."

"I didn't mean to! I just wanted to see Isabella look stupid! Vince, you have to help me, the family elders will kill me..."

Amelia's voice was panicked. After a few seconds of static, Vincenzo's voice came through.

The voice I knew so well was still gentle, but now it was terrifyingly unfamiliar.

"Shh, don't cry, Mia."

"Here is a fund transfer to a Swiss account and a new identity. Go lay low for a while. I'll clean up the rest."

"As for Isabella… it's fine. Let her take the heat. She's tough, she can handle it."

The audio cut off.

The phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

The file was dated three years ago. The day the docks ran red with blood.

It wasn't a system malfunction at all. Amelia was the culprit.

And my husband, to protect his childhood friend, had personally branded me as incompetent.

I stumbled back, my body colliding with a familiar chest.

Vincenzo was already standing behind me, his deep eyes unreadable.

"Isabella, are you spying on me?"

His brow furrowed, his handsome face tight with the annoyance of being disturbed.

He had seen everything.

"So, what was on that audio... it's all true?"

My voice trembled, my nails digging into my palms.

Even then, a pathetic part of me hoped he would say it was a fake, that the audio had been doctored to tear us apart.

Vincenzo was silent.

He avoided my gaze, taking out a cigar cutter and methodically trimming a cigar that wasn't there.

My heart, along with my last shred of hope, shattered.

The next second, he stepped forward, pulling my ice-cold body into a rigid embrace.

That hug, which had once been my greatest comfort, now made me sick to my stomach.

He whispered in my ear, his tone as gentle as if he were soothing a pouting child.

"Bella, it's all in the past. You've seen for yourself, even though I let you take the fall, your position has remained secure, hasn't it? Haven't I been good enough to you?"

"But Amelia is different. She's young. She couldn't handle the pressure of being universally condemned."

I looked up at him in disbelief, my throat feeling as if it were lined with rusty razor blades, each word a searing pain.

On that night three years ago, I watched the bodies of my men being carried out one by one, kneeling in a pool of blood, weeping. It was Vincenzo who had held me back.

He had sworn in my ear, "Bella, don't go. It's dangerous. Leave it to me. The mole who sabotaged the system... I swear I'll tear that bastard limb from limb."

I had cried until I nearly passed out, smearing tears and snot all over his expensive, bespoke suit.

He had patted my back again and again, saying, "It's okay, I'm here."

I was naive enough to believe my husband was my hero.

But while he wiped away my tears, he was turning around to destroy all the operation logs for the real culprit.

My blood ran cold, my rage freezing into a silent, brittle thing.

Just then, the lounge door was thrown open.

Amelia burst in, her hands covering her face, looking like a cornered rabbit.

"Donna, I'm begging you, please stop threatening me with that audio... I really didn't mean for it to happen..."

"Please stop hitting me, it really hurts..."

She let her hands fall, as if by accident.

A bright red handprint was already swelling on her pale cheek.

It was obvious the mark wasn't from my hand, but Vincenzo bought it completely.

He cupped Amelia's face, his eyes full of pain. When he turned to look at me, the last of his patience evaporated.

"Isabella, is this how you threaten her behind my back? Have you no decency?"

In that moment, the dignity of the Donna, the respect for the intelligence officer, it all became a joke.

I fought to keep the tears from falling.

"I didn't touch her," I said, my voice choked with a sob. "If you feel so bad for her, then sign the papers."

I pulled the "Petition to Leave the Family" from my bag and slapped it hard against his chest.

The papers rustled loudly.

The men crowded in the doorway gasped when they saw the title.

Vincenzo stared at me, his eyes filled with disbelief, as if he couldn't comprehend how determined I was about this.

"You're serious? Over this?"

"Isabella, without the De Luca family, without this platform, where will you display all your intelligence skills? Are you sure you want to ruin the rest of your life for some pointless pride?"

I met his gaze and said, word by word:

"For the past three years, I have lived like a dog at your feet."

That crossed the line. Enraged, he snatched a pen and scrawled his name on the agreement, the force of his pen nearly tearing through the paper.

"You asked for this, Isabella. Don't come crawling back to me."

He then threw the papers in my face, wrapped an arm around Amelia's shoulder, and strode out.

The sharp edge of the paper cut my cheek, drawing a line of blood.

His hand on the doorknob, he paused.

"Since you're leaving, you won't be taking anything that belongs to this family with you."

He opened the door and announced loudly to the crowd of high-ranking family members who had been eavesdropping.

"As of today, Isabella is removed from her post as Chief Intelligence Officer. All clearances and keys are to be transferred to Amelia immediately."

That night, Vincenzo didn't come home.

The gossip columns and society pages were flooded with updates about him.

He took Amelia to New York's most exclusive charity gala, introducing her to all the city's political and business elites.

Just as he had done for me five years ago, when he'd taken my hand and elevated me to that same position.

And now, he was using the family's contacts in the press to hint that I was unstable and no longer fit to manage the intelligence network.

I was only now realizing just how terrifying this man could be.

If he couldn't control me, he would destroy me.

The television showed Amelia on his arm, smiling radiantly. I turned off the screen with a blank expression and started packing.

I didn't want a single thing from this place.

Late at night, my phone shattered the silence with a frantic ring.

It was the highest-level alert from the Intelligence Archive.

"Ms. Isabella! It's Amelia! She's taken men and is breaking into Archive One in the North District!"

"That's where you keep all the original files and source data! They've cut the security…"

My breath hitched.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my car keys and the Glock from under the bed, then ran out into the rain-swept darkness.

I threw my weight against the heavy, carved ballroom doors, slamming them open.

The tremendous crash silenced the symphony inside.

I was soaked to the bone, my hair plastered to my face. Hundreds of pairs of eyes bored into me.

On the stage, Vincenzo was holding the obsidian key that symbolized control over the entire network, about to hand it to a lavishly dressed Amelia.

At the sight of me, looking like a ghost, Vincenzo's hand froze mid-air.

Then, a confident smirk played on his lips.

He thought I'd come back to apologize, that I couldn't survive without his protection and without the support of the intel network, so I had come crawling back.

But this time, he was wrong.

I charged onto the stage, ignoring everyone's scornful glares.

"Amelia! Did you touch my archives?!"

My voice was a raw, broken thing.

The guests began to whisper amongst themselves.

Vincenzo's face darkened. He shot out an arm and clamped his hand around my wrist.

"Isabella, what is this madness? Don't make a scene."

The pain sent me stumbling, and Amelia was instantly there, her hands steadying me with false kindness.

"Donna, what happened to you? Please, don't embarrass the Don."

She leaned in close under the guise of an embrace and whispered in my ear.

"So clever, our Donna. Did you guess it was me who went there?"

"Don't worry, those old paper files take up too much space. I'm helping you clean up, making some room for the family."

In that instant, my sanity snapped.

I tore myself from Vincenzo's grip and lunged at Amelia like a madwoman, my hands closing around her throat.

"That is ten years of my blood and sweat! You dare touch them!!"

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

CRACK!

A sharp, ringing slap landed across my face.

The world went silent.

The force of it snapped my head to the side, and my mouth filled with the taste of blood.

Vincenzo's hand was still trembling. He looked stunned by his own action.

He took an instinctive step toward me, but ultimately chose to shield the violently coughing Amelia.

"Have you had enough of this madness?"

"Isabella! I gave you a chance to keep your dignity! What is this? Jealousy? Are you throwing away your honor as the Donna of the De Luca family?"

My ears rang, but I felt no pain.

My mind was filled only with those top-secret original data files, the evidence I had traded brushes with death to obtain, my final trump card.

I snatched the key representing intelligence power from his hand and, with all my strength, hurled it at Amelia.

"To hell with De Luca! To hell with your power!"

But Vincenzo spun, shielding Amelia with his back.

The sharp edge of the key caught his suit, and the force of it sliced open my palm.

Blood dripped onto the expensive carpet.

Vincenzo let out a muffled grunt, staring at me in disbelief.

"Isabella, you..."

From behind him, Amelia's eyes were filled with triumph. She secretly showed me her phone.

On the screen was a live feed.

The Flower House on the estate's back hill, the secret location of Archive Number One.

Rows of steel shelves filled with confidential documents had been pushed over, creating a chaotic mess.

And at the edge of the frame, several men in black were carrying gasoline cans, pouring the clear, acrid liquid onto those precious manuscripts and hard drives.

"Oh! The Donna is hurt!" Amelia feigned concern, moving toward me and taking my injured hand.

"Three minutes."

She waggled the black remote in her other hand.

"Kneel. Beg me. Or I'll let your professional career turn into a pile of ash."

"They're just expired data anyway, burning them is no big deal, right?"

In that moment, I had no dignity left.

All my pride was worthless in the face of my life's work. Without those, I was as good as dead.

Without a second thought, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, I dropped to my knees with a thud.

"Please... don't touch them."

Vincenzo, not understanding what was happening, was completely stunned.

He stared in shock at my pathetic form on the floor and reached out to pull me up.

"Bella, what are you doing? Get up! Is it worth this over a few broken files?"

I slapped his hand away, shot up from the floor, and ran out of the ballroom like a woman possessed.

Vincenzo's hand was left hanging in mid-air.

He shouted my name behind me, but I couldn't hear him.

A strange panic seized him. He started after me, but Amelia grabbed his arm. "Vince, the gala is starting. Everyone is waiting for you."

He hesitated for a few seconds, then stopped. "Right."

My world had shrunk to a three-minute countdown.

The back gate of the estate was only five hundred meters away! If I could just run fast enough!

I could already see the archive room, see the dark stains where the gasoline had been poured.

But just as my fingers brushed the door, a voice echoed from the archive's speakers. It was Amelia's light, airy laugh.

"My dear Isabella, you run pretty fast."

"Such a shame, though. Time's up. Game over."

A deafening BOOM ripped through the night.

A massive shockwave, followed by a tower of flame, instantly engulfed me.

The force of the blast was immense. The guests in the ballroom heard the explosion and began to scatter in a panic.

Vincenzo stared, transfixed, at the red glow in the distance, his heart suddenly seizing in his chest.

"Isn't that the direction Isabella ran?"

He took an instinctive step, wanting to charge into the inferno.

"Don! You can't go over there! That's where the high-energy batteries and paper archives are stored, the fire will be intense!"

Several bodyguards grabbed him by the waist, forcibly dragging him back to safety.

Vincenzo's breath hitched, his voice cracking into a raw scream.

"Isabella!"