Carlo La Rosa is the Don of the La Rosa family. As for me, I'm just a plaything who's been delivered to his bed in order to clear off my family's debts.

For the next three years, Carlo vents his carnal urges on me anyhow he wants. He doesn't do any foreplay. In fact, he doesn't even turn off the lights.

Instead, he forces me to look at myself in the mirror. He wants to show me how he eventually devours me.

"Take a good look at who's screwing you right now, Lydia!"

Carlo is very rough with me in bed, as though he wants to merge with me. I beg him to be gentler with me, but all I get in return are harder thrusts. Those thrusts continue until I faint from the intensity.

When I wake up, I see a black card and a morning-after pill on the nightstand. Even though I quickly take the pill, I still end up getting pregnant.

I'm about to tell Carlo the news when I see the news on the TV. Apparently, he gets stabbed three times in a row just to protect his first love, Serena Sergio.

It turns out that I'm just a plaything for him to vent his urges on. I'm not even considered a replacement.

As I caress my belly, I drop my signature on the divorce agreement. Then, I snap the black card in half and leave the pieces on the table.

Carlo La Rosa was the Don of the La Rosa famiglia of Neopolis.

And I, Lydia Luciani, was sent to him as a plaything to settle a debt.

There was a hideous scar on the back of his hand. Whenever he brushed his hand against my skin, it left a sensation that was both itchy and painful.

For three whole years, Carlo treated me as nothing more than an outlet for his needs.

There was no foreplay, and he didn't even bother turning off the lights. He forced me to look at the mirror, to watch how I was slowly and mercilessly consumed by him.

"Look carefully and remember who it is that owns you right now," Carlo had said.

His actions were rough and unrestrained, as though he wanted to crush me under him.

I begged for him to be gentler, only for him to go on treating me even harsher, until I finally passed out.

When I woke up, there was a black bank card and a box of birth control pills by the bedside.

There was no warmth or affection. Everything was only a transaction.

After all, the Lucianis owed Carlo 300 million dollars. It was only natural for a daughter to pay back her father's debt.

I obediently swallowed the pills with cold water, my throat dry and aching.

…

I still ended up pregnant a month later. It turned out the birth control pills had expired.

My hands were sweaty as I clenched the test report, feeling fearful yet tinged with anticipation.

I wondered if this child could ease the tense relationship between us.

I dialled Carlo's number, but no one picked up.

Ten minutes later, a news alert popped up on my phone, accompanied by a blurry video.

The caption read, "Carlo La Rosa, the Don of the La Rosa Famiglia, Stabbed Three Times While Saving Top Actress Serena Sergio. His Condition Remains Critical."

In the video, Carlo, who was usually cold and ruthless, stepped in front of Serena without hesitation. He didn't even flinch when the knife plunged into his abdomen, shielding her with unwavering resolve.

She was crying uncontrollably, tightly clutching at his sleeve.

I stared at the screen, my blood gradually turning cold.

It turned out that I was nothing more than a tool for Carlo's needs, not even worthy of being a substitute.

The one he loved and cherished was Serena, his untouchable first love.

I rested my hand on my stomach, still flat and barely showing. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of irony.

If Carlo's life belonged to Serena, what did my child amount to? A burden standing between the two of them?

I pulled out the divorce agreement I had long since prepared from the drawer and signed my name without hesitation.

The black bank card that symbolized the price of my dignity was snapped in half and tossed onto the table.

The front door was violently pushed open as I was packing my belongings.

Carlo was back.

He was still dressed in a bloodstained shirt. His face was pale, yet the dangerous glint on him was unmistakable.

Two bodyguards trailed behind him, as if afraid I might escape.

"Where are you going?" Carlo's voice was hoarse and threatening.

I handed him the divorce agreement. "Let's get a divorce, Carlo."

Carlo barely glanced at it when he tore it apart and threw the pieces to the floor. He then moved closer to me, forcing me back until I was pressed against the wall.

The heavy scent of blood mixed with disinfectant was sharp and nauseating.

"Divorce? Don't even think about it in this lifetime." Carlo grabbed my chin, pressing hard. "The Lucianis' debt hasn't been paid off yet. Where do you think you're going?"

He scoffed coldly, his gaze filled with contempt. "Serena was badly shaken and needs some rest. Since you seem to have nothing better to do, you can go to the hospital and look after her for the next few days."

I stared at Carlo in disbelief. He actually wanted me to take care of his mistress?

"I'm not going," I said through clenched teeth.

"That's not up to you." Carlo dug out his phone and tossed it in front of me.

On the screen was Mamma, still lying in the intensive care unit.

Carlo said, "Your mamma hasn't been doing very well lately. How many days do you think she'd last if her medication were stopped?"

My blood ran cold instantly. He was truly despicable and shameless.

I stared at Carlo, my eyes burning with unshed tears, yet I stubbornly refused to let them fall. "You're heartless, Carlo."

He grinned, utterly unconcerned. He brushed his fingers past my cheek, as if teasing a pet. "I'll let her live a little longer as long as you behave, play your role as the Madre of the La Rosa famiglia, and keep Nonna happy. And if you don't…"

Carlo didn't finish his sentence, but I understood perfectly.

Carlo's only weakness was his nonna, who had raised him, and was now gravely ill.

She was also the leverage he used to control me.

Nonna's only wish was for us to live a blissful married life and to bear a child soon.

Because of her comment, Carlo brought me to his private island and had cameras recording round the clock, all just to reassure her.

Carlo called it a retreat, but in truth, it was a confinement.

He promised that as long as I played my role well for a week, long enough for Nonna to pass on peacefully, he'd let the Lucianis go.

I believed him. Or rather, I had no choice but to do so.

The island was beautiful. The villa stood by the sea, with waves surging endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I would have loved this place if this had been the past. After all, designing a romantic home had once been my dream.

But now, it was nothing more than a lifeless cage, and I was a bird trapped within.

Carlo seemed like a different man in front of the cameras. Gone was his usual harshness, and he was even cooking for me himself.

He was patiently serving me during meals.

"Eat more. It's uncomfortable to hold you when you're so thin." There was an unfamiliar hint of tenderness in Carlo's voice.

I felt momentarily dazed.

Back then, the young man I had saved from the cathedral fire used to tell me that he'd treat me well in the future.

Unfortunately, he ultimately mistook Serena for me.

"What are you thinking about?" Carlo suddenly leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my ear.

I drew back instinctively and avoided his touch. "Nothing. I'm just a little tired."

Carlo didn't get angry. Instead, he lifted me up in his arms and carried me toward the bedroom. "Then get some rest."

…

The sound of the waves was especially loud that night. I ended up having a nightmare.

I dreamed of that fire, where the cathedral's statue came crashing down. I pushed Carlo away with all my strength, my back crushed beneath the debris.

"It hurts… Help me…" I woke up crying, drenched in cold sweat.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me, gently patting my back.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here." Carlo's voice was low and gentle, as if it could smooth away all my fear.

In the darkness, I leaned against his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

At once, I felt momentarily blinded by an illusion. Perhaps Carlo did have feelings for me after all.

I wondered if we could go on living like this if I told him about the baby.

I parted my lips, about to tell him about the pregnancy, when a sudden ringing shattered the fragile warmth of the moment.

It was Serena's custom ringtone.

Carlo instantly stiffened, pushing me away almost instinctively. The force was so strong that I nearly rolled off the bed.

He grabbed his phone, an unheard-of panic seeping into his voice as he asked, "What's wrong, Serena?"

Serena's sobbing came through the line, painfully clear in the quiet night. "I'm scared, Carlo… The thunder is loud. I got frightened while filming, and my chest hurts so much…"

"Where are you? I'm coming over now." Carlo was already getting dressed as he spoke, his movements rushed to the point of fastening the buttons wrongly.

I glanced out the window.

The storm was raging, with thunder and lightning splitting the sky. Now was the most dangerous time with the typhoon passing through.

"You're still going in this heavy rain?" I couldn't help asking.

Carlo didn't turn around. His fingers paused briefly while he fastened his belt. "Serena has a weak heart. She can't take the fright."

"What about me then?" I stared at his back, my voice trembling. "I'm your legally wedded wife, and I'm still carrying—"

"Shut up!" Carlo spun around abruptly, his gaze icy. "Don't try to pressure me with that empty title, Lydia. If anything happens to Serena, I'll make the entire Luciani family pay."

With that, he slammed the door and left.

Outside, the storm raged. The roar of the helicopter's blades thundered through the night.

I chased after him, barefoot. "Don't go, Carlo! Taking off in weather like this will get you killed!"

I wasn't sure if I was worried about Carlo's safety, or desperately clinging to the last shred of my own dignity.

The wind was blowing fiercely on the helipad, as though it could sweep me off my feet.

I had just started running when the powerful gusts stirred up by the rotors knocked me down. Pain flared up when my knee struck the rough concrete.

I looked up, ignoring the pain. The helicopter rose slowly into the air, disappearing without hesitation into the dark, rainy night.

On the most dangerous night of the typhoon, Carlo left his pregnant wife behind on a deserted island, all to comfort another woman who had been frightened.

Rain pounded against my face, and I couldn't distinguish it from my own tears.

I placed a hand over my belly and smiled.

I was trapped on the island for three full days, with no water and electricity. If not for the emergency rations left behind by the housekeeper, my child and I might not have survived.

Three days later, the typhoon finally passed. The one who came to pick me up wasn't Carlo, but his Underboss.

When I returned to the city, I wasn't comforted or given an explanation.

What awaited me was a viral trending headline. "Carlo La Rosa From the La Rosa Famiglia Visits Serena Sergio During the Typhoon. True Love Prevails!"

In the photos, Serena was dressed in a hospital gown, weakly leaning against Carlo's chest. They were looking at each other with unmistakable affection.

And I, his lawfully wedded wife and the Madre of the La Rosa famiglia, played the most ridiculous role in their game.

Someone found out I had been abandoned on the island. The comments section was filled with mockery.

"I can't believe a bankrupt nobody is trying to compete with Serena. What a joke!"

"Having a Madre like her is an embarrassment to the La Rosa famiglia."

Ever since I showed up by Carlo's side, I had been doused with mockery. I had long since gotten used to it.

But the tender way he looked at Serena made my stomach churn.

Later that evening, Carlo sent someone over with an evening gown.

I was ordered to attend that night's charity gala. It was merely a facade meant to stabilize family businesses and their stock prices.

I didn't refuse, nor do I have the right to.

I sat in front of the vanity, letting the stylists work on me.

When I was about to change into the evening gown, I realized the zipper wouldn't close.

It wasn't my size at all.

The fabric pressed tightly against my abdomen, causing a dull ache and making it hard even to breathe.

"This… seems to be in Ms. Sergio's size, Madre La Rosa," the stylist softly said.

I let out a bitter chuckle.

Even the evening gown I was given was something Serena had worn before, or tailored to her measurements.

But I had no choice. I had to swallow the humiliation for Mamma. I would endure it for her.

I took a deep breath and forced the zipper up. Even if it felt like my bones were crushed, I would make it through that night.

…

The gala venue glimmered under the lights. I entered arm in arm with Carlo, a practiced smile plastered on my face.

He looked impeccable in his black suit, proper and polished. However, I was the only one who knew how rotten his core was beneath that exterior of his.

The crowd started to stir the moment we stepped inside.

Serena had arrived.

She was dressed in a custom white gown, looking as if she'd just stepped out of a fairytale.

But I instantly recognized the gown's design as the award-winning piece I had made in college.

What hurt even more was that the necklace around her neck was an unreleased design I had in my sketchbook.

It was meant to be a gift for my future child. So, how was Serena wearing it?

It must have been from Carlo. No one else could have accessed my drafts.

Serena headed straight toward us, ignoring me entirely as she slipped her arm through Carlo's other arm.

"This gown is a little long, Carlo. I'm afraid I might trip," she said, her voice sickly sweet.

Carlo didn't pull away. Instead, he naturally placed a hand at her waist. "Be careful."

With the three of us standing together, I, the lawfully wedded wife, became unnecessary and painfully out of place.

The surrounding guests started whispering among themselves, their eyes gleaming with distasteful anticipation.

"See? Don La Rosa still dotes on Serena."

"Madre La Rosa is so pitiful. She looks like a handbag-carrying assistant."

I straightened up and tried to pull my arm free from Carlo's grasp.

But instead, he tightened his grip and warned under his breath, "Don't move. Don't embarrass me."

I wondered who exactly was embarrassing whom now.

I endured it silently until a server passed by with a tray of red wine.

Serena deliberately twisted her ankle, tilting her body just enough to spill an entire glass of red wine on me. My light-colored gown was instantly stained, looking like a complete mess.

"Oh my, I'm sorry, Lydia. I didn't mean to," Serena said while covering her mouth, yet her eyes held no trace of regret.

Carlo frowned. His first reaction was to check whether she had been splashed. Only when he made sure that she was alright did he turn to me.

His eyes were filled with disdain. "Why are you so careless? Go stand in a corner. Don't make yourself an eyesore."

I clenched my clutch tightly, my nails digging into my palm.

This was the man I had loved for ten years.

I went to clean myself up in the restroom. When I walked out, I ran into Serena. She was leaning against the wall, swirling her wine glass.

The earlier fragility was completely gone by now.

"Lydia, you'll give up your position if you're smart enough," Serena said, her voice low. She smiled cruelly. "That thing in your belly? You won't be able to keep it."