Someone had replied to her message.

Ready to welcome the new heir already?

She replied with a smug smiley face.

My ears were ringing. My miscarriage wasn't an accident.

Trevor, under the guise of consolidating territory, had orchestrated the attack himself.

The cruelest joke of all was that the reason I hadn't been able to conceive again wasn't, as the family doctor had said, because my body needed time to recover.

It was because the attack was designed to leave me barren from the very beginning.

This was a declaration of war.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face. All the details I had deliberately ignored came rushing back to me.

The occasional scent of a strange perfume on him. The hushed phone calls on the balcony late at night.

The glass of water he so attentively handed me the night before my miscarriage.

How could I have been so foolish? I was so tired that even hating him felt meaningless.

I scrubbed the tears from my face.

I would make them both pay.

As my thoughts churned, an encrypted number called.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Who is this?"

A mocking female voice came through the phone. My arch-nemesis, the head of the Irish mob, Isolde Keane.

"Well, well, look who it is. You're still alive! I thought you were dead. Trevor Thorne is in quite a hurry to introduce his next lady of the house."

After years as rivals, I knew she was only calling to gloat.

I ignored her taunt and asked, "What did you see?"

She scoffed. "So you're not a complete idiot. There's a joint peace summit here. And Trevor Thorne is busy introducing his new partner to everyone."

She added, "I just sent you the security access code."

I glanced at the address. It was only an hour's drive from me. How dare they be so blatant, right under my nose?

I let out a cold laugh. New partner?

The absolute nerve. How could his legal wife possibly miss such a party?

I headed straight for the address. As soon as I got in the car, a message from Trevor arrived.

Darling, are you not home? I happened to check the gallery's surveillance to see the new collection and didn't see you.

All his recent concern for my health and state of mind... it wasn't for my well-being, but to ensure I wouldn't derail his little production.

I replied with a cold smile and a photo.

Dominic is here. We're discussing business in the office.

Less than a second later, Trevor replied.

Remember what the doctor said. Stay hydrated.

He even attached a picture of himself in a conference room. The consummate performer, keeping the charade alive.

For so many years, he had always kept me updated on his whereabouts, and I had never doubted him.

Security at the hotel was airtight, as expected for a summit of this level.

On the surveillance feed, I saw Trevor leading Cassia through the crowd.

His arm was around her waist as he toasted with the leaders of other families.

Cassia was wearing a scarlet evening gown. I was very familiar with the design sketch for that dress.

I'd sent it to him just last month. "This gown would look perfect on me," I'd said.

Yet, it ended up on another woman.

They were talking with several important figures. I recognized one of them. Marco, a Capo that Trevor and I had promoted together.

Cassia nodded and smiled, the picture of demure charm. Trevor gazed at her, his expression soft with affection.

They looked for all the world like a blissfully happy, engaged couple.

Just then, Cassia touched her stomach and said something to Trevor. He immediately bent down, his expression shifting to a radiant grin.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes brimming with adoration. The people around them all laughed and raised their glasses in congratulations.

Marco clapped Trevor on the shoulder, looking overjoyed.

Watching this scene, the memory of my family doctor's words from a month ago cut through me: "Don't worry, you'll have a child eventually."

At that time, Trevor had held my hand and comforted me gently.

"Don't worry, we have a whole lifetime ahead of us."

And now, he was about to have a child, and I was not the mother.

On the live surveillance feed, the crowd gathered in the center of the hall. The host officially began the event, and Trevor was invited on stage to share his vision.

Afterward, he invited Cassia to the stage. He spoke emotionally about their union being for the "future of the family." He described how Cassia had stayed by his side through countless late nights, silently supporting him as he struggled with the family's expansion.

"She is my sun, always bringing me hope for an heir."

The crowd erupted in applause, celebrating this grand romance as if they’d all forgotten one crucial detail: Trevor was a married man.

How ridiculous.

Listening to his speech from the security control room, I might have been moved myself, if the man on stage wasn't my husband.

Cassia took the microphone. Her voice choked with emotion, she began to praise Trevor as the savior of her family.

She said that when her father's Russo family was in crisis, it was Trevor who had pulled out all the stops, leveraging his connections to raise emergency funds overnight.

"Meeting a man like him is the greatest blessing of my life."

Watching their contrived performance made me sick. They were using my Marchesi family connections, had killed my child, and were now playing the star-crossed lovers for an adoring crowd.

The doctor had said my pregnancy was unstable, but Trevor hadn't hesitated for a moment in arranging my "accident."