I was leaving, but I couldn’t just vanish without saying goodbye to Matthew. He had been my only real friend in this world of blood and shadows—the only one who saw me as Victoria, not just "The Don’s Woman."

I met him at a quiet bistro on the edge of the city, far from the neon lights of Jayden’s territory.

"You're really doing it?" Matthew whispered, his eyes scanning my face for any hint of hesitation. "Marrying a Lightwood? You have wasted the prime years of youth on Jayden. You loved him madly."

“It's still better than wasting my entire life on someone who doesn't even know my worth.”

I handed him a small, sealed envelope. "This is for you. In case Jayden tries to freeze your accounts for being loyal to me. It’s enough to get you out of the country."

"I don't want your money, Vic. I want you to be safe."

I gave him a sad, lingering smile. "Then wish me luck."

As we walked out of the bistro, the cool night air hit my face, smelling of rain and asphalt. But the air turned stagnant the moment I saw a familiar black SUV idling at the curb.

The door opened, and Jayden stepped out. But he wasn't alone.

Rosaline was leaning heavily against him. Jayden’s arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, his body shielding hers from the wind. He was focused entirely on her, his head tilted down as he whispered something in her ear, his expression etched with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years.

"Careful, Rose," Jayden murmured, his voice carrying in the quiet street. "Just a few more steps. I've got you."

He was helping her walk, his hand clutching a small medical bag. It looked like she had "sprained" an ankle or suffered some minor "emergency" that required his full, undivided attention.

I stood frozen on the sidewalk. Marcus moved instinctively to step in front of me, but I put a hand on his arm.

Jayden finally looked up. When his eyes met mine, he didn't pull away from Rosaline. Instead, his grip on her seemed to tighten defensively.

"Victoria? What are you doing in this part of town?" he asked, his tone shifting to that familiar, impatient edge.

"I came to meet my friend," I said, my gaze dropping to his hand on Rosaline’s hip. “I suppose you were at a meeting, handling some important work. Now I see what work it was.”

"Don't start with the attitude, Victoria. Not today. Rosaline had a fall at the office—a serious one. I had to leave the meeting to take care of her because she has no one else in this city. Unlike you, she actually appreciates the help.” He spat.

"Jayden, it hurts," Rosaline whined, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She shot me a look over his shoulder—a sharp, victorious glint that vanished the moment he looked down at her.

"I know, I know. We’re almost at the car," Jayden said softly to her. Then, he looked at me, his eyes landing on Matthew. His jaw tightened. "And who is this? Is this why you’ve been so distant lately? Meeting men in the shadows while I’m out working?"

The irony was so thick I could nearly choke on it. He was literally holding another woman in his arms, yet he dared to question my loyalty.

"He’s a friend, Jayden. Something you wouldn't understand," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

"Go home," Jayden commanded. "I’ll be back late. I need to make sure Rosaline is settled in and her injury is tended to. We’ll talk about your 'friend' then."

He turned back to her, hoisting her up more comfortably as he helped her into the passenger seat of his SUV. He didn't wait for my answer. He didn't even notice that I wasn't wearing my engagement ring.

"Let's go, Matthew," I said, turning my back on them.

"You aren't going to tell him?" Marcus asked as we reached my car.

"Tell him what? That I'm leaving?" I looked back one last time. Jayden was leaning into the car, gently adjusting a pillow behind Rosaline’s head. He looked like the perfect, devoted partner.

"No," I whispered. "He made his choice. By the time he realizes I’m gone, I’ll already be a Lightwood. And he’ll be just another ghost from my past."

I got into the driver's seat and started the engine. And as I reached home, my phone buzzed with a notification. Rosaline had posted a picture on social media, showing a man’s hands wrapped around her ankle, giving her a foot massage.

[Just a minor sprain on my ankle. But he insisted on staying to look after me. The greenest flag ever!]

There was something that broke inside. Perhaps the last string of hope. My doctor’s voice echoed in my head when I barely survived the cake the other night.

“You should be careful of your allergies now that you are pregnant, Miss Victoria. Please do not eat casually.”

That was when I realised I had missed my period. And that was also why I decided to leave Jayden as soon as possible.

He deserved none of this. Neither I, nor the baby, his entire family was seeking to.

The glow of the phone screen was a neon brand against my skin. I sat in the shadows of my car, staring at the photo Rosaline had just flaunted to the world.

The caption—“The greenest flag ever!”—was a jagged insult. Those hands, scarred from brass knuckles and stained with the grease of semi-automatics, were now kneading her skin with a reverence they once reserved only for me.

I scrolled through the comments, each one a nail in the coffin of my past life.

“OMG! The hand that sends people to hell is giving someone a foot massage.”

“Is this our mafia lord’s new Queen? Finally, a woman with some fire!”

“Match made in heaven. The previous one was too soft for the underworld. Out with the old.”

A cold, hollow laugh escaped me. They called me "soft" because I was the one who stitched Jayden’s wounds in the dark so his men wouldn’t see him bleed. I was the one who balanced the ledgers that kept the Commission off his back.

I remembered three years ago, when a rival family sent a hit squad to our dinner. Jayden hadn't ducked for cover; he had flipped the table, shielding me with his own body while emptying a clip into the rafters. Afterward, he had wiped the blood off my cheek with a trembling hand, whispering that I was the only thing in this world worth keeping pure.

Then came Rosaline.

Slowly, the "purity" he wanted for me turned into an exile. She started handling the sensitive documents. She started riding shotgun in the armored SUV. She became the face at his side during the sit-downs, while I became a ghost haunting the halls of his estate. He didn't want to keep me safe; he wanted to keep me sidelined.

Gradually, I became the name no one remembered.

I walked into the house, the heavy marble silence feeling like a tomb. My hand instinctively pressed against my stomach. Pregnant.

I was carrying the heir to the most powerful weapon-running company in the Tri-State area—a company that, as of ten minutes ago, no longer had any weapons to sell.

There wasn't much time when Jayden would realize his golden days were over, along with me. But by then, I would have my baby protected. He won't be part of the bloody war that was coming next.

I marched into the nursery—we prepared this together a long time ago.

It was a hidden room, reinforced with steel and lined with the finest silks. We had built it in secret, a sanctuary for the "Little Prince or Princess" of the Outfit. On the wall hung a shadowbox containing the first pair of tiny leather boots Jayden had bought, alongside a hundred more, each one the first piece auctioned from the most luxurious brands.

He wanted to surprise our baby with a wardrobe in which each dress and piece of footwear we had collected together from the famous designers of the whole world.

But, all a waste! My baby was not going to wear them or even look at them.

With a low snarl, I grabbed a kerosene oil container and sprinkled it everywhere. I grabbed the custom-made silk blanket embroidered with the family crest and put it into the fire first, watching the symbol of Jayden’s lineage curl and blacken in the heat.

"What the hell is this sacrilege?!"

The door hit the wall with the force of a gunshot. Jayden stood there, his eyes bloodshot, his silk tie loosened like a noose. He looked at the wreckage of the room—the room he had called his "only legacy."

He lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders with hands that smelled of Rosaline’s perfume and expensive gin.

"Victoria, stop! This is the sanctum!" he roared, his voice vibrating with the raw authority of a Don. "Why are you destroying our child's room?”

“There is no child, Jayden!” I said, looking firmly into his eyes.

Ever since Rosaline arrived, Jayden was too busy to share a bed with me. He would often come late at night and leave early in the morning.

If not for that one day when he was drunk and actually slept with me, I wouldn't have been pregnant.

“Do you remember the last time you came on time, Jayden?” I asked, “How is our child supposed to come into this world when you haven't even touched me for a year?”

But he shoved me aside. His focus was only on the silks that were slowly turning into ashes.

“How could you do this, Victoria!” He cried, grabbing the fire extinguisher to put out the fire, “We built this together! These were the rare collections we have collected, every single piece.”

“I just realized they have all become old-fashioned in the wait for our child,” I said, “And taking too much space for the new ones.”

“You should have discussed this with me before… putting them on fire!” he spat, his voice still hoarse with the loss of the treasure, if he still considered it as one.

“I thought you no longer cared about it,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “You haven't opened this room for about six months.”

In the past six months, every cent that was spent from his account was to either buy Rosaline a brand new accessory or take her out on a ‘business trip’. He claimed, as his assistant, that it was important for her to look elegant and classy.

He couldn't care less about the sanctuary we built together.

Jayden knelt on the soot-stained floor, his fingers trembling as he brushed the ash off a pair of tiny, charred leather boots. The "Mafia Godfather" who terrified the Tri-State area looked like a man who had just seen his soul turn to dust.

Slowly, he stood up. The fury that had colored his face a moment ago had drained away, replaced by a haunting, fragile tenderness. He stepped toward me, ignoring the kerosene-slicked floor.

"Victoria," he whispered, his voice cracking. He reached out, his hands—the ones the internet was currently praising for their 'reverence' toward Rosaline—cupping my face. They were cold. "I’m sorry. I’ve been... too busy with these days, the expansion... I lost sight of the walls of my own home."

He pulled me into his chest, burying his face in my hair. For a heartbeat, the familiar scent of his expensive cologne almost made me forget the scent of her perfume that had been clinging to him moments before.

"I’ll make it right," he murmured against my temple. "The nursery can be rebuilt. I'll get the collections back. I’ll be here, Victoria. No more late nights. No more 'business' taking me away from you. I promise—tonight is the turning point.”

He kissed my forehead, his eyes shining with a promise that felt, for the first time in a year, like solid ground. "Be ready at seven. I’ll be home to pick you up myself. Just us."

I spent hours getting ready. I wore the midnight blue silk gown he loved, the one that draped perfectly over the slight, hidden curve of my stomach. I waited in the marble foyer, the silence no longer feeling like a tomb, but like a hushed breath before a song.

One last dinner. Together. Perhaps, it would be a less painful memory to remember in the future. He at least deserved a goodbye from me.

That was what I thought before I made up my mind to stay one more night. With Jayden.

I shot a glance at my wrist watch. 7:00 PM.

The car wasn't in the driveway.

7:30 PM. No call. No text.

8:00 PM. My reflection in the mirror began to look like a joke.

I turned on the television, flicking to the local news coverage of the Gala. The red carpet was a sea of flashbulbs. And there he was.

Jayden looked impeccable in his tuxedo. But he wasn't alone. Rosaline was draped on his arm, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination, her hand resting firmly on his bicep.

The reporter thrust a microphone toward them. "Mr. Jayden, word is you have a massive announcement tonight regarding the future of your legacy?"

Jayden smiled—that shark-like, charming smile. "The future has never looked brighter," he said, looking down at Rosaline. "The strength of my empire depends on the strength of the woman beside me. Tonight, we celebrate a new era."

“From today on, Rosaline is no longer my assistant, but a partner. I’m transferring half of our company’s shares in her name. She is no longer an employee, but the boss lady.”

I stared at the screen with bloodshot eyes. He was transferring half of the empire to his mistress without thinking of the need to discuss it with me. The very same empire I had worked my ass off to help him build?

I didn't cry. The fire I had started in the nursery had simply migrated to my chest, burning away the last of the "softness" they all despised.

I walked to the safe in the study. I didn't take the jewels or the cash. I took the thumb drive containing the offshore accounts I had managed—the ones he forgot I had the codes to.

As I walked out the front door, I left the diamond ring on the cold marble floor of the foyer. The same ring he had proposed to me with, the ring I had taken off a day before, and he hadn't even noticed. It rolled a few inches before stopping in a crack.

I started the engine and drove into the night. By the time I reached the airport, my phone had beeped several times. When I checked, it had ten missed calls and twenty messages from Jayden.

[Sorry, I got occupied. I’m coming to pick you up, sweetheart.]

[Victoria, why are you not at home?]

[I found our engagement ring lying on the floor. What's that mean?]

[You are scaring me now! Why the hell are you not picking up my calls?]

And so on.

I simply blocked his number and shut the phone off.

Goodbye Jayden. I’m leaving… with the child you don't know exists.