The next morning, Lorenzo held my hand tightly as we went for my check-up.

“The baby is perfectly healthy,” the doctor said, handing over the sonogram. “The due date is still the same.”

Lorenzo took the picture.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he said, his voice soft, almost paternal. “Arabella’s been so worried. I’m glad she’s okay.”

“You’re a lucky woman, Mrs. Falcone,” Dr. Reeves smiled. “The Boss is a perfect husband, here for every appointment.”

The perfect husband. I almost laughed out loud.

Lorenzo helped me with my coat, his eyes smiling. “This is the heir the Falcone family has been waiting for. Of course I’m going to take care of you.”

He took my hand as we left the exam room.

Down the hall, a familiar figure stopped me cold.

Isabella.

Her belly was high and round under a loose maternity dress. She was talking to a nurse.

She saw us and her face lit up with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Arabella! What a coincidence!”

She hurried toward us. I felt Lorenzo tense for a split second before his mask slid back into place.

“Isabella. You’re here for a check-up, too?” My voice was even.

“I am,” she said, her hand resting on her fake bump. “My due date is right around yours.”

It took everything I had not to lose my temper.

Of course it is. Because you’re not pregnant. You’re just waiting for me to give birth to your child.

She reached for me. “Let me touch your belly. They say it’s good luck—”

Her hand, nails painted blood-red, came right for my stomach.

My eyes went cold. I shot my hand out and clamped down on her wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Isabella’s face hardened, her eyes flashing with anger.

Just as she was about to snap, I winced, pressing my other hand to my stomach. “My belly… it hurts…” I said weakly.

The angry words died in her throat, her look of triumph freezing on her face.

Lorenzo immediately pulled me into his arms. “Are you alright? Let’s get you home.”

His voice was drenched in concern, but I saw it clearly. His eyes went right over my shoulder to Isabella. A silent reassurance.

“I think I just stood up too long,” I said, looking down. “I just want to sit in the waiting room for a minute.”

“I’ll go with you—”

“No,” I cut him off. “You and Isabella should talk. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Lorenzo hesitated, then nodded.

“Alright. Be careful.”

I turned and walked into the waiting room. The second the door closed, I looked through the crack. He was already rushing to Isabella’s side.

Just as I expected. Off to comfort his one true love.

I followed them quietly, hiding around a corner.

They slipped into an empty ward.

“Lorenzo, are you actually falling for her?” Isabella’s voice was sharp, dripping with jealousy.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lorenzo said softly. “Everything is going according to plan.”

“Then why didn’t you back me up out there? She said her stomach hurt, and you looked genuinely worried.”

Lorenzo sighed. “I’m doing all of this for our child. She’s carrying him, after all…” His voice trailed off. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet jewelry box. Inside was an antique sapphire brooch. He pinned it gently to her dress. “You wanted this at the auction. I bought it for you.”

Isabella softened, a smug little smile playing on her lips.

"By the way," she purred, her tone spoiled, "that tip about the O’Connell shipment was very helpful. Matteo and Moretti were very pleased with me. What about the upcoming deal in Venice?”

“It's all set. Two hundred million in art is coming in next week. Arabella's going to check the final manifests for me. It will all be authentic."

A sharp pain twisted in my gut.

My expertise. My judgment. I was just a tool for their profit. A way to build their power, to strengthen their alliance.

And my body? Just a vessel. A surrogate.

I fought back the tears, turned away, and pulled out my phone.

“Dr. Martinez? It’s Arabella.”

“Mrs. Falcone. What can I do for you?”

“The procedure for tomorrow afternoon. Can we confirm the time?”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“Are you certain you want to go through with this?”

“I’m certain. Three p.m. tomorrow. I’ll be there.”

I had just hung up when a familiar footstep sounded behind me.

“Tomorrow?” Lorenzo’s voice was sharp with suspicion. “Where are you going?”

I turned to face him, a faint smile on my lips. “I have an appointment with a painter. I want a portrait of the three of us before the baby comes. A keepsake.”

The tension in Lorenzo’s eyes eased.

“When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. You have that family meeting, right? It’s perfect.”

“I can postpone it—”

“Don’t,” I said, playing the part of the considerate wife. “You hate sitting still for portraits. I’ll just bring a photo of you.”

Lorenzo stared at me for a few long seconds, trying to read me.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around him, playing the part of the loving, adoring wife.

He finally relaxed, a smile touching his lips. He stroked my cheek, his voice dripping with condescending affection. “You’re always so understanding. What would I do without you?”

The morning of the surgery, Lorenzo pulled out a small jewelry box before he left.

“For you, my love,” he said softly, his eyes holding their usual warmth.

I opened it. A diamond bracelet.

The free gift to the sapphire brooch he bought Isabella.

My fingers tightened. I looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you. I love it.”

His lips curved up. He leaned in and gave me a deep, possessive kiss. “Bella,” he murmured against my mouth, “always my good girl.”

The second he was gone, the fake smile fell from my face.

Yeah. So good I let you play me for a fool.

Before the clinic, I made one last stop. The Rossi manor, my family’s estate.

I wasn’t even through the door when I heard their voices.

Isabella, whining. “What’s Arabella so proud of? She actually dared to grab my wrist yesterday!”

My mother, soothing her. “Just be patient a little longer. You wanted her fiancé, and we made that happen for you, didn’t we? This is the same. Just wait.”

My father sighed. “You need to stop making trouble. We finally have a Moretti heir on the way. If they find out how this baby was really conceived, it’ll cause another scandal. It would be bad for Lorenzo.”

Lorenzo. He was there. His voice was calm and firm.

“Isabella, don’t worry. I brought the report from yesterday. Everything is normal. We just have to wait for the birth.” He paused. “Father, Mother, you don’t have to worry either. I’m fine. I’d do anything for Isabella.”

My fingertips went numb. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

They all knew.

They planned this. All of them.

From the very beginning, I was just a pawn.

Enough.

I looked down at the diamond bracelet on my wrist.

The free gift.

Just like my place in this marriage. In this family.

I ripped the bracelet from my wrist. Diamonds scattered across the floor like cruel, glittering tears. The skin on my wrist was red and raw, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

I turned and walked away.

A short while later, a maid knocked on the door with coffee.

Lorenzo opened it. As he reached for the tray, his eyes froze.

On the floor by the door, the broken bracelet lay among a spray of glittering diamonds.

The one he had put on my wrist himself.

His face changed. His breath hitched. He lunged into the hall, looking around wildly, raw panic in his eyes.

He called, frantic.

I let it connect.

His voice was tight with anxiety. “Bella, where are you? Listen to me, I can explain—”

I said nothing.

His voice grew more desperate. “Bella! What the hell is going on? Where are you?!”

Then, a nurse’s cool voice cut through the line, clear as day.

“Mrs. Falcone, the operating room is ready. We just need your signature.”

The other end of the line went dead silent. It sounded like he was choking.

Then, he exploded.

“Surgery? Where are you?! What surgery?!”

It was almost a roar, his voice filled with a terror I’d never heard before.

I stared at my phone. My thumb swiped across the screen.

End Call.

Power Off.