After hanging up, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window and watched the scene below.

A black, armored car drifted around the street corner.

The shriek of its tires on the pavement was piercing even through the double-paned glass.

Even I, a professional racer, couldn't match that kind of speed. It was clear how much a single tear from Gianna meant to him.

I let out a bitter laugh, too drained to even cry.

I met up with a few girlfriends for shopping, manicures, and finally, a trip to Manhattan's most exclusive underground jazz club.

Dim lights, a sultry saxophone, and a glass of potent bourbon in my hand.

My friend fidgeted beside me, nervously glancing toward the door.

"Scarlett, are you insane? The Don explicitly forbade you from coming here. If the Thorne family finds out..."

I tilted my head back and downed the amber liquid in one go.

The burn of it seared a path down my throat and into my stomach, but it couldn't warm a heart that was already frozen solid.

"It doesn't matter." I slammed the empty glass down on the marble tabletop. "I'm ending things with him."

The words had barely left my lips when the club's mellow jazz music screeched to a halt.

Black-suited Soldati moved in, quickly and systematically clearing the room. Even my friends were politely but firmly escorted out.

In an instant, the vast space felt unnervingly empty.

Heels clicked on the floor, announcing an arrival. The crowd of men parted, and a woman in a black velvet gown glided toward me.

Madre Elena.

Daemon's mother, the most traditional guardian of the Thorne family.

Her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, pinning me in place.

"Scarlett Thorne." She spoke my full name, her tone dripping with disgust.

"You disgrace the Thorne name!"

"As the Donna, instead of considering how to serve this family, you're here, dragging our name through the mud with these degenerates."

She stopped in front of me, looking down her nose at me.

"And to think you are a princess of the Vaughn family. So spoiled and willful. You're not fit to touch a single strand of Gianna's hair."

A cold laugh echoed in my mind. So this was the real reason Daemon married me.

To make me the perfect prop to highlight Gianna's purity and nobility.

I, Scarlett Vaughn, was the most dazzling star on New York's racetracks, the wild mare countless men wanted to tame.

But in the eyes of Daemon and his mother, I was nothing more than a disposable shield.

The alcohol surged through me, and I was done being patient.

I lifted my head to meet her gaze and said, word by word, "Get Daemon down here."

Elena's face went pale with rage, the crucifix on her chest rising and falling violently.

"Incorrigible! I see you're drunk and need to be taught a lesson!"

She waved a hand at the bodyguards behind her. "Take her to the family chapel."

"Make her kneel before the Virgin Mary and repent until she understands what it means to be a Thorne!"

"And don't forget to sober her up."

The next second, bodyguards seized me without another word.

I struggled, but they dragged me out and threw me into the fountain in the club's back courtyard.

On an early spring night, the water was bone-chillingly cold.

I choked, swallowing mouthfuls of fountain water as I desperately clawed my way out.

But as soon as I gripped the edge of the fountain, I was pushed back under.

The freezing water soaked through my evening gown, completely ruining my makeup.

When they finally dragged me out of the pool, I was a drenched, shivering, and pathetic mess.

Then they roughly shoved me into a black car and drove straight to the family chapel.

I was forced to kneel on the hard stone floor, my wet clothes clinging to my skin, a searing pain shooting through my knees.

I screamed myself hoarse, "You have no right to do this to me! I want to see Daemon!"

Seeing this, Madre Elena laughed with fury and picked up her phone to make a call.

Two seconds later, a familiar voice boomed from the speakerphone, echoing in the empty chapel.

"What trouble are you causing now? Stop upsetting my mother."

"Do what she tells you. Those are the rules of the Thorne family."

This was the man I had loved for two years. And in the depths of despair, a different kind of courage is born: the courage of having nothing left to lose.

I screamed into the phone with all my might, "Daemon! You listen to me..."

"I'm preg—"

My voice trembled.

"It doesn't matter," he cut me off. "Scarlett, you need to remember that you are a Thorne. You must obey the rules here."

"You are my wife, the Donna. For my sake, you need to learn."

My mind went blank.

The phone slipped from my palm and clattered onto the cold marble floor.

So all my pain meant less to him than the Thorne family rules and Gianna.

It meant less than a single complaint from his mother.

The violent struggle had exhausted me. The chapel's damp coldness seeped into my bones.

Worse, the dragging pain in my lower abdomen grew more intense, like a rusty knife was twisting inside me.

Darkness swallowed me.

When I woke up, I was lying in the lavish but cold master bed of the Thorne estate.

The door was ajar, and Gianna's tearful voice drifted in from the hallway.

"Daemon, it's all my fault. If I hadn't called you away yesterday, Scarlett wouldn't have been punished by your mother."

Then, Daemon's voice followed.

It was a tone I had never heard from him before, one so gentle it seemed to drip with honey.

"Don't blame yourself, Gianna. This has nothing to do with you."

"Scarlett is untamable. This was just a small lesson for her. She was in the wrong. As the family's Donna, she shouldn't have gone to a place like that."

The dull ache in my abdomen was still there, and a chill ran through me.

I had almost lost our child, and to him, it was just a "small lesson."

Rage burned away my reason. I forced my weak body up and yanked the door open.

"If I'm so untamable, Don Thorne, why don't you just sign the divorce papers now?"

In the hallway, Daemon was gently handing a handkerchief to Gianna.

He froze at my words.

Then, he slowly turned and advanced toward me, step by step.

I instinctively tried to back away, but he seized the nape of my neck.

His palm was still warm and dry, his thumb stroking my cheek in a way that used to feel intimate.

But his eyes were a bottomless, icy chasm.

"Divorce?"

He let out a low laugh. "Principessa, that word doesn't exist in my vocabulary."

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear.

"It seems the cold wind in the chapel didn't clear your head. Are you going to keep making a scene?"

"Do you have any idea the trouble I went through to calm my mother down for you? Instead of being grateful, you test my limits with this foolishness?"

"Be a good girl."

He patted my cheek as if calming a pet.

"Don't waste your defiance testing my patience. The Thorne family name can't withstand you dragging it through the mud again and again."

I couldn't help but sneer. He was talking to me about reputation?

And him? Cozying up to his widowed sister-in-law in the hallway? Was that upholding the Thorne family name?

Seeing the scorn on my face, Daemon's eyes darkened, and he was about to speak.

Gianna quickly stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

"Daemon, don't be hard on Scarlett. She just woke up, she's still weak."

"Besides, she has a fiery temper. We should be more patient with her."

"I'll talk to her."

Daemon let her persuade him and went downstairs, his face grim.

She turned and took a wooden case from a nearby servant. Inside was an exquisitely crafted violin.

"Scarlett, I know you were wronged in the chapel. To cheer you up, I had a special gift prepared for you."

She came to me, her smile deceptively innocent. "I know you play the violin. So I took the liberty of having that old champion horse in your stables... put down."

"Its tail hair is of excellent quality, perfect for this bow."

"It couldn't run anymore anyway. Keeping it at the Thorne estate was just a waste of food, right?"

Meeting Gianna's innocent gaze, my mind went blank with a roar.

That was the first racehorse my late grandfather had ever given me. It was the start of my racing career, my spiritual anchor.

When I married into this family, my only condition was that I could bring him with me.

Daemon had promised he would ensure the horse was well cared for in its old age.

The humiliation I had suppressed for the past two days erupted. I stared at her, my eyes burning. "Who gave you permission to touch him!"

The innocent look on Gianna's face didn't waver, and was even tinged with confusion.

"Scarlett, what are you doing? It was just an old horse."

"The Thorne family has strict rules. We can't keep a retired racehorse at the estate, it's undignified. I was doing it for your own good, to stop Madre Elena from giving you a hard time again."

The Thorne family rules! The rules again!

They nearly killed my child, left me to freeze in a chapel, and now they had butchered the only living link to my past!

I shot to my feet and, with a guttural scream, slammed the violin case at Gianna's feet.

The case and the priceless antique violin shattered, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.

Gianna stumbled back in terror, her high heel twisted, and she lost her balance.

"Ah!"

She took a calculated step back, deliberately losing her footing.

She fell backward, and the back of her head hit the sharp marble corner of the fireplace.

Bright red blood immediately beaded along her hairline before trickling down to stain the white carpet.

Hearing the commotion, Daemon rushed back. When he saw Gianna on the floor, the blood beneath her, and me standing on the stairs, his eyes turned crimson with pure rage.

"Scarlett! Are you insane!"

He shoved me aside. "She's my sister, how dare you lay a hand on her!"

I clutched my stomach, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from my throat. "She killed my horse! She had him butchered for a goddamn violin bow! You think I shouldn't have hit her?"

"So what if she did? I approved it."

"I was the one who told her to get rid of that old horse. The Thorne estate has no need for useless things. Besides, you needed a violin, didn't you? She was doing it for you!"

I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning. My last line of defense crumbled.

When I first married him, I was afraid the Thorne family's strict rules would be a problem and hesitated to bring my horse. It was Daemon who promised me he would protect him.

Was it the Thorne family that couldn't tolerate him, or was it me they couldn't tolerate?

I opened my mouth, wanting to say we should get a divorce, wanting to say I hated him.

But on the floor, Gianna spoke weakly.

"Daemon, don't blame Scarlett, it was my fault... but it really hurts..."

Before she could finish, her eyes rolled back and she passed out at the perfect moment.

Daemon's pupils contracted. He immediately knelt, scooped her into his arms, and rushed for the door, not even sparing me a single glance.

At the family's private hospital, the light above the emergency room was on.

Daemon leaned against the pale corridor wall, his usually calm face was a mask of raw panic, his eyes bloodshot.

I stood a short distance away, a heavy weight in my chest making it hard to breathe.

The doctor came out, his expression grave.

"Don, Mrs. Gianna suffered a head injury and has lost a lot of blood. She needs an immediate transfusion."

"But she has a rare Rh-negative blood type. The blood bank is empty, and getting a supply from another hospital will take too long. I'm afraid she won't make it..."

Daemon was silent for a moment. Then he slowly turned his head, and his eyes locked onto me.

"So does Scarlett. Use hers."

"You pushed Gianna. Scarlett, this is a blood debt. You will repay it."

"Don't be afraid, it's just a little blood. As long as you cooperate, I promise nothing will happen to you."

It seemed that even my life was a chip he was willing to sacrifice for that woman at any moment.

I couldn't take this humiliation anymore. I screamed, "I won't do it! Why should my blood be used to save her!"

But Daemon wasn't listening. He dragged me and forced me onto a gurney.

"Let go of me!"

I shrieked, struggling with all my might. My nails dug deep into the back of his hand, leaving several bloody scratches.

But he didn't even flinch, personally strapping my wrists and ankles to the rails with thick leather restraints.

A nurse approached with a thick needle, its tip glinting with a cold light that stole my breath.

Fear consumed me. My body began to shake uncontrollably.

"Daemon! You can't do this to me! Please!"

"I'm... I'm pregnant with your child! Are you trying to kill him?!"

Daemon paused.

For a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of hope.

But then his brow furrowed, and he looked at me as if I were a manipulative liar.

"Scarlett, don't lie."

"A pathetic lie like that only makes you sound more desperate."

My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest and crushed. Hot tears streamed down my face, burning my skin.

He didn't believe me. Even at a moment of life and death, he didn't believe me.

Seeing that I had given up struggling, he leaned down, his thumb gently wiping the tears from the corner of my eye. "Good girl. This won't hurt. I'll have the best supplements flown in from Sicily for you afterward."

His palm still had that familiar warmth, carrying the scent of expensive tobacco I had once adored.

But now, it was the cold hand of a stranger.

My heart was a wasteland of despair. I had no strength left to fight.

I slowly closed my eyes.

The moment the needle pierced my skin, my consciousness began to fade.

In the haze, I saw a small, blurry figure huddled in the mist, waving at me.

He was calling out in a faint, childlike voice, "Mommy, I have to go now. You have to live well."

I tried to force my eyes open, to see his face, to grab his hand.

I wanted to scream, "Don't go! Take Mommy with you!"

But my body felt like it was falling into a bottomless abyss, as endless darkness consumed me...

In another private room, Gianna had finished her transfusion and was sleeping soundly.

Daemon quietly closed the door, his taut nerves finally relaxing.

He saw a nurse hurrying past the ICU and stopped her, his voice edged with anxiety.

"How is Scarlett? Is she awake yet?"

The nurse stopped, looking at him with a strange expression as she answered truthfully, "Don, you don't know?"

"The Donna's emotional state was extremely volatile. That, combined with the stress and the massive, forced blood draw... she miscarried. It triggered a major hemorrhage, and we rushed her into surgery, but the complications were too severe."

"Miscarried?"

Daemon's pupils shrank. He gripped the nurse's arm tightly. "What child? So... she was really pregnant?

Just then, the light in the ICU went dark.

Before the nurse could answer, Daemon spun around and charged toward the ICU doors like a man possessed.

"Doctor! Where's Scarlett! How is she!"

The attending physician emerged, pulling off his blood-stained mask and shaking his head sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry, Don Thorne."

"The Donna had lost the will to live. We couldn't bring her back."