Serena POV

The underground, mob-funded clinic smelled of iodine and stale blood.

I sat on the edge of the examination table, the thin paper crinkling under my weight. The Syndicate doctor flipped through my chart, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere over my left shoulder. His face was set in grim lines.

"You have severe internal damage, Serena," he said, his finger tapping the ultrasound printout. "Advanced endometriosis and massive scar tissue buildup."

"Can it be fixed?" My voice was thin in the stark room.

He shook his head slowly.

"Natural conception is almost impossible. The physical trauma you endured, the unbearable stress, the freezing conditions of the badlands... your body was pushed far beyond its breaking point for too long. The damage is irreversible."

I walked out of the examination room as if moving through deep water. The hallway was brightly lit and seemed to draw the warmth from my skin. Near the exit, a heavily pregnant woman waddled past me. Her husband had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, whispering softly into her ear, protecting her from the cold draft.

The sight made me stumble, my hand flying to the wall to steady myself.

I made it to the secluded stairwell before my knees gave out. I collapsed against the rough concrete wall, burying my face in my trembling hands. I fought back the tears, but my chest heaved with dry, agonizing sobs.

They had not just stolen my time. They had stolen my future.

Three days later, Associate Moretti convinced me to attend the Syndicate's annual Gala. "You need to show your face," he had said. "You need to prove you are not broken."

I stood in the shadowed corner of the lavish ballroom, wearing a simple black dress, clutching a glass of water. The room was dripping in gold and the light of crystal chandeliers.

The heavy mahogany doors swung open.

Silvio entered, with Lilith clinging to his arm. Capos and soldiers immediately flocked to them. They raised their champagne glasses, toasting to the new heir. Silvio gazed down at Lilith with a sickening devotion and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

Lilith spotted me through the crowd. A malicious light danced in her eyes. She patted her swollen stomach and walked straight toward my corner, leaving Silvio talking to a boss.

She stopped in front of me and raised her glass of sparkling cider.

"A toast to you, Serena."

I stared at her, my face a mask of stone.

Lilith leaned in, her cloying floral perfume suffocating me. She whispered so only I could hear, "Silvio confessed something to me last night. He said if he had not exiled you, he would have struggled to make a choice between us. But he also said you scared him. A woman too smart, too capable—you made him feel small. He chose me because I made him feel like a king."

She smiled, her teeth flashing. "So, I want to thank you for your noble sacrifice for the Family. You made it so easy for us."

I gripped my glass until my knuckles turned white.

"While you were getting pregnant with your first child, I was suffering a 104-degree fever in the desert," I hissed softly. "I dragged myself across the scorching sand to find a signal. I called Silvio seventeen times for a medical extraction."

Lilith smiled sweeter, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "I know. That date was our anniversary. Silvio was busy buying me a limited-edition Vera Wang wedding gown. The receipt is still in his desk drawer. He saw your name flashing on the screen and muted it every single time."

My breath hitched. Silvio had promised to buy me that exact dress the day he became Underboss.

"Serena."

Silvio appeared behind Lilith. He placed a protective hand on her waist and glared at me. "Are you causing trouble?"

"Do not speak my name," I said, the words tasting like venom. "Your presence is nauseating."

I turned and stormed out of the ballroom. I pushed through the heavy glass doors and stepped out into the dark street. A heavy, driving rain was washing over the city. The water instantly crushed the shape of my silk dress, the fabric clinging to my legs like a second, colder skin.

"Wait!" Silvio chased after me. He popped open a large black umbrella, trying to hold it over my head.

I spun around and violently shoved the umbrella away. It clattered onto the wet pavement.

"Are you insane?!" he shouted over the roaring rain.

"I do not hate you, Silvio," I said, the rain dripping from my chin, my eyes fixed on him with a pure, unadulterated disgust. "I only feel disgust for wasting five years on a coward. Do you know what the desert tastes like? It tastes like copper and dirt. I dug bullets out of my own leg while you were playing house."

"Serena, please." He reached for me again, desperation flashing in his eyes.

I stepped backward into the cold deluge, out of his reach. I let the rain wash over my face, soaking my hair, chilling my skin.

I stood in the darkness, feeling the old Serena dissolve in the rain. What remained was harder, colder, and ready to go to war.