Eight months pregnant, I had every bank card frozen by my husband’s female secretary.

Over the phone, she laughed coldly and said,

“From now on, every cent you spend needs my approval. Jack works too hard to waste his money on a useless woman who only knows how to shop.”

That same day, I was rushed to the hospital with contractions.

Every card I tried was declined.

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had also moved my parents out of their private senior suite and into the cheapest room available.

Her reason?

Two ordinary old people had no right to waste Jack’s money.

I laughed.

She had no idea those “ordinary old people” were the Don and Donna of the Bellandi family, the couple who had controlled Italy’s underworld for decades.

She had no idea Jack’s company, his reputation, his fortune—everything he owned—had come from the Bellandi family.

My parents had already planned to retire completely after my child was born.

They were going to hand the entire family over to me.

And to Jack.

Too bad.

Jack had allowed her to humiliate the only real power he would ever have the chance to stand beside.

Three days later, Jack held a welcome party for his mysterious investor.

In front of everyone, his secretary dialed the investor’s number.

The next second, my phone rang.

I had just paid my parents' annual care fees in full and headed into town to pick up some baby clothes.

When it was time to check out, I pulled out Jack’s credit card and handed it to the cashier.

The card machine beeped twice before the cashier shook her head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. This card has been declined.”

A faint confusion flickered through me before my phone buzzed sharply in my pocket.

The caller ID simply read: Lily. Jack’s Personal Secretary.

I answered the call, and Lily’s shrill, triumphant voice cut straight through the line.

“Ella! I froze your card! Do you have any idea how hard Jack works to keep this company afloat? You laze around at home all day, splurging on pointless frivolities like this baby dress!”

“From today onward, I’m taking charge of every single cent you spend. You need my explicit approval for any purchase, and your monthly spending cap is six hundred euros exactly. That dress costs two hundred and ninety-eight euros!”

A low, amused chuckle escaped me.

The shop owner leaned against the marble counter, casually scrolling through a news podcast on his phone.

“Twenty years ago, the Bellandi family vanished from the public eye. No one has seen the Don or Donna in public since, but everyone knows their empire still runs every major industry in Italy. Some say they retired to a private villa in Tuscany; others claim they still pull all the strings from behind closed doors.”

The owner glanced up, shifting his gaze between me and the fleeting flash of a vintage family photo on his screen.

He muttered under his breath, “Y’know, you bear an uncanny resemblance to the Bellandi Donna in that old picture from the 2000s. Could you possibly be her daughter? Just kidding. How could the Donna's daughter ever have her card declined? Oh. I believe you have enough money to pay for the dress, don’t you?”

I offered him a faint, noncommittal smile and pulled a handful of cash from my wallet to settle the bill.

In that instant, a sharp, cramping pain surged through my abdomen.

I doubled over, gripping the counter tightly as cold sweat soaked through the back of my shirt.

Alarmed, the shop owner immediately dialed emergency services, and I was rushed to San Raffaele Private Hospital, one of Milan’s top medical facilities.

A nurse approached my hospital bed with a payment slip, and I handed over every card in my wallet. Minutes later, she returned with an awkward, sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Every one of your cards has been suspended.”

Drawing in a slow, steady breath, I dialed Jack’s number.

The call rang three times before being picked up, yet Lily’s voice was the one that greeted me.

“What is it now, Ella? Jack’s busy in a critical corporate meeting. He doesn’t have time for your trivial matters.”

“I’m at the hospital. I think I'm going into labor, and I need to cover the medical fees.”

I forced each word out through gritted teeth, enduring the throbbing ache in my belly.

Lily let out a disdainful scoff.

“Childbirth isn’t some extravagant medical procedure. You're probably thinking about booking an overpriced VIP suite? Forget it. I’ll send someone over to sort out the basic fees later.”

The line went dead with a sharp click.

I stared at the blacked-out screen, my eyes turning icy with certainty. I should never have trusted Lily.

Then I called Tom, the old steward of the Bellandi family who had served my father for forty years.

“Miss Ella.” The voice on the other end was steady.

“Tom, I’m at San Raffaele Private Hospital. All my accounts have been frozen.”

Tom responded in an even, calm tone.

“I’ll be there within ten minutes.”

The doctor examined me and confirmed that both the baby and I were fine; my due date was still a few days away.

The pain had been nothing more than Braxton Hicks contractions, brought on by stress.

Lying on the hospital bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling, my mind drifting back three years to the day I married Jack.

At the age of twenty, I erased my true identity and moved to Milan. I didn't want anyone to love me just for my last name, so I did it.

That was where I met Jack. Back then, he was a newly graduated intern with nothing but ambition and a humble background. He had seemed earnest, diligent, and reliably kind.

I still remembered the day our supervisor singled me out for unfair treatment, forcing me to finish the entire department’s financial report alone overnight.

Without a word, Jack stayed behind to keep me company, working alongside me until the early hours of the morning.

On another occasion, the supervisor falsely accused me of company theft and threatened to fire me on the spot.

Jack had defended me fiercely and declared he would resign alongside me if I was dismissed.

In that moment, I firmly believed I had found the person I wanted to spend my life with.

We got married quietly, with no lavish banquet.

My father had never approved of Jack.

It was not because Jack came from an ordinary background. My father had never cared about that. What bothered him was something else. He thought Jack was too eager to prove himself, too good at saying the right things, and not nearly as capable as he wanted people to believe.

“He has ambition,” my father once told me. “But ambition without judgment is dangerous. And a man who wants power before he learns responsibility will eventually hurt the people closest to him.”

I refused to listen.

I told my father Jack only needed a chance. I said he was hardworking, sincere, and unfairly underestimated by everyone around him.

So my father gave him that chance.

Through the Bellandi family’s private investment fund, he became the anonymous investor behind Jack’s new company.

Jack never knew the money came from my family.

To him, it looked like a miracle. A mysterious investor had recognized his potential, trusted his vision, and handed him enough capital to build the life he had always dreamed of.

For the past three years, Jack had been running the company built on Bellandi money. To the public, he was a remarkable self-made entrepreneur who had risen from nothing and built a thriving business from scratch.

No one knew the truth.

Jack lacked sharp business instincts and decisive judgment. Every critical partnership, every major contract, every decision that truly expanded the company had been reviewed, corrected, or quietly arranged by me and the Bellandi team behind the scenes.

Jack thought he had built an empire.

In reality, he had been standing on one the Bellandi family had lent him.

All core collaborators were well aware of this unseen truth.

Six months ago, Jack returned from a business trip with a quiet, timid young woman in tow.

“This is Lily,” he had explained to me with a sympathetic tone.

“She just graduated from university, and her mother is critically ill in the hospital. She’s drowning in medical debt and struggling to make ends meet. I hate to see her suffer, so I want to give her a hand.”

I arranged a comfortable apartment for her and privately covered all her mother’s exorbitant medical expenses.

In the beginning, Lily treated me with excessive deference, waiting on me hand and foot.

Yet she was clumsy and inexperienced at work, making frequent costly mistakes.

Jack would fly into fits of rage, repeatedly threatening to terminate her contract.

Every time, I softened his anger, persuading him to give the newly graduated girl more time to adapt.

I had genuinely thought I was helping a vulnerable, hardworking young woman.

Now, it was painfully clear.

From the very start, Jack and Lily had been acting out an elaborate lie, tailored just to deceive me.

The hospital room door swung open, pulling me back from my memories.

Tom stepped inside. Two equally composed men in matching formal attire followed closely behind him.

“Miss Ella, everything has been fully arranged.”

He placed a sleek black premium bank card on the bedside table.

“All medical fees have been settled. I’ve booked a private luxury suite on the top floor, and you may move there at your convenience.”

I nodded faintly in acknowledgment.

Tom then handed me a thick sealed folder.

“I’ve compiled all the latest investigation records. Jack and Lily have been in a romantic relationship for half a year. Over these months, they have misused corporate funds to travel to Paris, Rome, and the Maldives, splurging on countless luxury goods. This folder contains their flight records, hotel check-in documents, and explicit photos of the pair.”

I flipped open the folder, and the candid snapshots burned sharply into my vision.

“Additionally,” Tom continued in a solemn tone, “I anticipated potential trouble. Yesterday, our team retrieved all valuable belongings from your residence and relocated them to a secure location.”

“We have also increased security around the private senior residence to protect the Don and Donna,” Tom continued. “Lily claimed your parents’ expenses were too high and moved them to the cheapest room. We reversed the change immediately using our own funds.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.

My father had told me more than once that after my child was born, he and my mother planned to retire completely. They were tired of carrying the weight of the Bellandi name. They wanted to hand the family over to me.

And to Jack.

My throat tightened at the thought.

Before all of this, my parents had truly intended to accept him. My father had already begun preparing the transfer of several family businesses under my name, with Jack positioned beside me as my husband and future partner. My mother had even said that if Jack proved loyal, the Bellandi family would treat him as their own son.

That was why they moved into the senior residence ahead of time.

They wanted to adjust to a quieter life before the baby arrived.

Tom’s phone vibrated abruptly.

He answered the call, and his expression darkened noticeably after listening to the report.

“Miss Ella, Lily led a group of staff to the senior care facility moments ago. She demanded their immediate eviction. She claimed you could never afford such expensive fees and even... slandered you by saying you stole the money from the company.”

I jolted upright in the hospital bed, my muscles tensing with suppressed fury.

“There is no need to worry,” Tom quickly reassured me. “We acted in advance. Our security team transferred your parents to the private family estate before Lily arrived. They are safe and completely undisturbed.”

I exhaled a long breath and leaned back against the pillow.

“Ella,” his deep voice was steady and unflappable, “I am aware of everything that has happened.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry, Father.” My tone remained gentle. “I will resolve all of this properly.”

“Very well.” He paused briefly, his tone firm yet measured. “Bear in mind, we no longer engage in brutal or underhanded tactics. Handle this matter through legitimate, legal channels. Make them pay for every reckless choice they have made.”

“I understand.” I ended the call, my gaze turning cold and unyielding.

I had originally planned to swallow this bitter betrayal and let them make a clean, dignified exit without dragging things through the mud.

But they crossed the unforgivable line by targeting my parents and my unborn child. From that moment forward, I would show them absolutely no mercy.