I came from an ordinary background, but the Bertelli family never held that against me, at least not openly.

The family, which controlled a vast underground empire, had its own rules and its own way of surviving.

I worked part-time to put myself through college, and one of those jobs was with the Bertelli family. I was mainly looking after Roberto's ailing grandfather, Enzo Bertelli, the former Don.

On the surface, Enzo was a respected antiques collector and archaeologist. However, beneath that, he had used the antique trade to build the family's first intelligence network, which included smuggling, underground auctions, and all manner of operations running beneath it.

Since he had studied antiquities and my major was in the same field, we always had endless conversations. He appreciated my sharp eye and patience when it came to historical relics.

Back then, Roberto had just taken over part of the family's operations and was under enormous pressure. He had a habit of letting off steam in dangerous ways, and he reported to Enzo at a set time each week.

One night, after handling a particularly brutal internal dispute, he came home drunk in the early hours. That night, something happened that neither of us planned, and I ended up pregnant with Nico.

No matter how hard Rosa pushed back, because she had wanted Roberto to marry someone more 'useful' to the family through an alliance, we ended up together anyway.

There was no grand confession between us, no conventional courtship, but Roberto showed me that he valued me through his actions.

He would quietly have someone bring me hot tea when I stayed up late studying artifacts. At family gatherings, he always made sure I stood by his side.

Whenever anyone questioned my background, he would reply coldly, "She is my wife."

He grew more composed over time, putting Nico and I under his tight protection. Being shielded by that kind of power once made me feel safe.

With my dual role as both a legitimate art restorer and a skilled forger, the Bertelli family's operation expanded significantly.

Nonetheless, the use of artifacts as an intelligence network was a closely guarded family secret, so very few people outside the inner circle understood how much I actually contributed.

Life moved forward in a certain balance, until Martina returned.

Martina was the daughter of another mob family, and she and Roberto had grown up together. The day she came home after her divorce overseas, Roberto went to the airport to pick her up.

From that day on, everything changed.

Martina began showing up at the Villa Bertelli regularly under the title of 'business partner'. She knew every family code, recognized every key player, and understood every unspoken rule.

She even taught Nico how to recognize the family crest and told him, "The weak don't deserve to stand beside your father."

Slowly, a crack began to form between my son and I.

I waited at the airport for three hours, but Roberto's people never showed up. According to family rules, if I wanted to leave the city, I needed his "permission."

So, I stopped caring about the rules. I boarded the plane, pulled on my eye mask, and fell into a deep sleep.

Suddenly, violent turbulence jolted me awake, and the passengers around me were in a panic. Before I could react, the plane dropped sharply, and my head slammed hard into the overhead compartment.

After that, everything went black.

...

Back at the Villa Bertelli, in the underground meeting room, Roberto had just wrapped up negotiations with representatives from the Pelosi family.

Martina sat beside him, her smile perfectly composed.

At that moment, his right-hand man stepped forward quietly and handed him his phone.

The screen showed over a dozen missed calls, every single one from me.

Martina glanced at the screen and whispered, "Amelia still can't go five minutes without you. We have serious business to deal with right now, so she'll have to wait."

Roberto frowned, switched the phone back to silent, and said flatly, "She's been out of line lately. Let her wait. She needs to learn what actually matters."

With that, the meeting continued.

Two hours later, the meeting finally ended. Roberto pressed his fingers to his temple and was about to have someone reach out to me when an unknown number came through.

"Is this Mr. Roberto Bertelli? At eleven a.m. today,, a commercial flight departing from the city crashed due to a mechanical failure. According to the passenger list, your wife, Ms. Amelia Fiore, was on board. We regret to inform you that..."