At the annual Mafia Summit, my childhood sweetheart, Salvatore Russo, falls victim to an aphrodisiac slipped to him by a beautiful spy from a rival family.

And I, the cherished daughter of the most feared Don in the west, willingly become his antidote.

That night, he drives me to the edge of breathless surrender, again and again.

"Principessa, what did I ever do to deserve your favor?" he mutters.

From that moment on, his love consumes me whole, making me forget what loneliness ever felt like.

But in the third year of our marriage, someone sent me a private video of a man and a woman. It's from Rosa Conti, the same woman who once drugged Salvatore.

In the video, Salvatore's voice is thick with desire. "Darling, of course I remember. The one who should've been in my bed that night was you."

Then, Rosa sends me another voice message, taunting, "Arianna Moretti, for three years, he's been dulling your claws, turning you into something soft and spoiled. Everything he did was just to bring me back."

However, she doesn't know that when I love Salvatore, I don't mind surrendering to him. And when I no longer love him, he'll face my fiercest vengeance.

Three years into my marriage to Salvatore Russo, I received a private video. It was sent by Rosa Conti, the same spy who had drugged him three years ago.

At that moment, the video replayed. I stared at the two bodies entwined on screen, biting my lip until I tasted blood.

For the past three years, Salvatore had taken good care of Rosa. The scars she had borne as punishment for betrayal had been smoothed away by surgery, and the deepest lash on her back had been transformed into the stem of a red rose.

On the screen, Salvatore hovered over her, lowering his head to kiss the petals.

"Rosa," he murmured. "I've thought about you every second of every day for the past three years."

Every second of every day, huh? Funny, because just yesterday, he had held me in his arms, our bodies tangled beneath the sheets.

On the nightstand beside the bed sat our wedding photo. Salvatore took it everywhere he went, saying it was his lucky charm.

Now, the same picture was spattered with white stains.

My chest clenched in pain, but I forced myself to keep watching. I wanted to see just how long he could keep up the act.

When it ended, Salvatore rose and headed for the shower.

A beat later, Rosa turned to the camera, a triumphant smile curving her lips.

"So, Arianna, do you remember when you had me whipped 81 times in your family's dungeon? Call this payback. It hurts, doesn't it? Just wait. This is only the beginning."

With that, she winced and gasped in pain. Salvatore immediately rushed out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

Then, I watched as those strong arms wrapped around another woman.

The video cut off abruptly. The last frame showed Salvatore looking in the direction of the camera, his eyes filled with worry for Rosa.

That look hit me like a bullet to the heart.

I remembered the morning three years earlier, the day after I had saved Salvatore from that aphrodisiac.

I was trembling all over, every muscle aching. Still, I insisted on seeing what they had done to the spy who had tried to kill him.

Without a word, he swept me up in his arms and carried me to the family's dungeon.

There, Rosa was shackled in iron chains. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her body was streaked with bloody welts.

When she saw me, her face contorted with rage. She thrashed and screamed, "Arianna Moretti, you bitch! You'll pay for this!"

I flinched, but Salvatore stepped in front of me before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Don't look at her, principessa. You don't need to see something that filthy. Let's go," he had said.

Just before we left, Rosa's hoarse, savage roar pierced my ears again. "Arianna, I'll make you pay with your blood!"

I shuddered, and Salvatore's grip on my hand tightened. "It's okay. I'll protect you with my life."

Salvatore had been one of the many orphans my father took in and trained. He was striking, extremely capable, and quick to earn my father's admiration.

For over a decade, he had risked his life for our family. Step by step, he worked his way up to underboss and was seen as the Don's rightful successor.

However, before my father died, he had warned me, "Never trust anyone, Arianna. Not even Salvatore. Use him if you must, but never let him hold power over you."

I barely had time to process my father's words before a rebellion erupted within the family. Salvatore had put his life on the line that night, executing every man who had dared come after me.

When the gunfire finally ceased, he wiped the blood from his face and placed the family's signet ring in my hand. It was the emblem of ultimate authority.

"Arianna, this is yours. And I'll kill anyone who tries to take it from you."

Across the west, the Moretti family's power spanned both the underworld and high society, our influence reaching into every corner.

People fawned over me, but all I had ever wanted was someone to be genuine with me. I had thought Salvatore was the one.

In the years after we got married, he'd always come home by 6:00 pm unless something important kept him.

He bought me a private yacht that only ever sailed for me, docked year-round at the harbor. We kissed on mountaintops blanketed in snow and shared a single umbrella in rain-soaked alleys.

Everyone knew Salvatore was a ruthless devil. Yet, with me, his love burned so fiercely it bordered on madness.

It wasn't until I watched the video Rosa sent me that I finally saw the truth. Salvatore did love me, but he wanted to protect Rosa.

A sharp pain tightened in my chest until I could hardly breathe.

As it turned out, my father had been right all along. The only person I could ever trust was myself.

I brushed away the tears, opened the safe, and pulled out the revolver I hadn't touched in years.

The first shot tore through our wedding photo. The bullet split it clean down the middle, right between our joined hands.

The second shot struck the pregnancy test on the desk, the one showing two lines. I had just found out I was pregnant and hadn't even told Salvatore yet. Yet, this was the surprise he gave me.

The third shot shattered the mirror. My reflection splintered into countless pieces—broken beyond repair.

No matter how sweet our memories had been, I wanted no part of a love built on lies.

Rosa had schemed every detail to perfection, except for one.

Like father, like daughter. In his time, my father had ruled the underworld of the west with an iron fist. They called him the Steel Lion.

As his daughter, I was never meant to be harmless. You were either loyal to me or dead.

That day, while sorting through intelligence reports, a tabloid headline caught my eye and pierced straight through me.

It read, "Don Salvatore Russo and His Wife Rumored to Be Separating."

Beneath it was a photo of him and Rosa walking side by side into a hotel.

The tabloids spun wild stories about why our marriage was falling apart. Everyone believed I was too proud, too cold, and too difficult to love. That was why Salvatore couldn't take it anymore.

They were wrong. In truth, I was the one who couldn't let go.

In a fit of rage, I ripped the newspaper to shreds.

…

That same day, I auctioned off the yacht Salvatore had given me. It was a luxury vessel named The Arianna.

Everyone stared at each other in disbelief. They knew how much I adored that yacht, so how could I possibly sell it?

Just then, someone called out jokingly, "I'll bid a dollar!"

With every eye on me, I brought the gavel down with a soft tap. "Sold. It's yours."

I had barely stepped backstage when my phone rang. It was Salvatore.

"Principessa, I heard you sold the yacht. Who upset you this time? Don't be angry. It's not worth it. Tell me. Do you want a seaside villa, or that showstopper diamond necklace?"

His tone was as gentle as ever. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Even if it were the moon, I'd find a way to reach it."

There was a time when his sweet talk could sweep me off my feet. But now, even his sweetest words tasted like poison.

I let out a chuckle before hanging up. Then, I sent him a message. "I don't want anything. Just come back and play a game with me."

Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, "Alright."

…

A few days later, I stood on the deck of The Arianna, just before it was handed over to its new owner.

The breeze ruffled Salvatore's hair as he stepped aboard. His gaze held the same softness until he saw Rosa tied up beside me.

"Arianna, what the hell is this?" he asked sharply.

Before I could say a word, Rosa screamed, "Salvatore, help me! She's going to toss me into the sea and feed me to the sharks!"

All at once, Salvatore lost his mind.

"Arianna, is that true? Are you really going to throw her overboard?" he demanded.

He didn't bother to hide his concern for another woman, not even when I was standing right there.

I let out a wry chuckle. There weren't any sharks in these waters, but his fear was real.

I clenched my jaw, fixed my gaze on him, and spat, "I know everything about the two of you. Salvatore Russo, I'm giving you two choices. Either you throw her overboard yourself and maybe I'll forgive you, or I'll do it for you."

There was no room for betrayal in my life, and even less in my bed.

Now, Salvatore owed me an answer.

"Arianna! Why are you doing this?" he roared, fury blazing in his eyes. "This is between us. Leave Rosa out of it!"

In the next instant, I lifted a hand.

A loud thud echoed as one of the soldati slammed Rosa against the railing. She let out a piercing scream.

As Salvatore heard that, his fists clenched tight, and his eyes burned red. "What if I refuse to choose? Arianna, are you really going to make yourself my enemy?"

I stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief. He knew better than anyone that I could never go against him. After all, he was the only one who had ever pulled me back from the edge.

The night my father died, I smashed everything in the house, shards flying everywhere.

When Salvatore heard of it, he dropped a multimillion-dollar deal and rushed home. I was still gripping a shard of glass when he walked in, but he didn't flinch.

He strode toward me, and in the next second, pulled me into his arms. The shard sliced across his face, blood running down from his jaw to his collar.

It wasn't until the metallic tang hit me that I finally snapped out of my haze.

I dropped the shard and broke down crying, telling him I never meant to hurt him.

Yet, Salvatore smiled faintly and whispered, "It's alright, principessa. I'm yours. You can do whatever you want to me."

After that, a faint scar remained on his face. Every time I saw it, I swore I'd never hurt him again.

But now, he was asking if I was going to turn against him.

I stared at Salvatore, and for the first time, he felt like a stranger. My throat tightened as I said, "There's no point anymore. If you won't choose, I will."

One soldato had already pushed Rosa halfway over the rail, her body dangling above the water. Her face went pale before she passed out.

"I'll give you three seconds," I told Salvatore.

I bet he'd give in first, just like he always did.

"Three…"

"Two…"

Before I even reached one, a deafening blast tore through the air. Salvatore had ordered his men to fire a torpedo at The Arianna just to save Rosa.

Flames consumed the deck as thick smoke filled the sky. Within moments, the yacht split in two.

Just like that, the vessel once envied by countless women was destroyed in a blaze.

A violent jolt threw both Rosa and me into the sea. The icy water burned against my skin as I broke the surface, gasping for air.

"Salvatore…" I choked out. "You'd go this far for a spy?"

He sighed, his voice strangely distant amid the chaos. "This is the second time, Arianna. No matter how much I've spoiled you, I won't let Rosa suffer for my sake again."

Then, at his command, every rescue boat headed straight for Rosa. He, too, swam toward her.

"Principessa, I know you can swim," Salvatore called over his shoulder. "You'll hold on a little longer. Just wait for me."

Even then, he still had the nerve to call me principessa. I chuckled bitterly, the taste of blood spreading across my tongue.

Yes, I could swim, but not when I was carrying his child.

Through the blur, I saw Salvatore lift Rosa onto a rescue boat, gently pat her back, and wrap my blanket around her.

With that, he sped away with her, leaving me adrift in the open sea.

At that moment, a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen, and a sudden warmth spread beneath me.

The waves rocked me, as if the sea itself were a cradle. At the same time, the world slowly faded into darkness.

I remembered all those nights when I nestled against Salvatore—how he'd rest his hand on my stomach and pray for a little angel of our own.

But now, he had left his principessa to drown and harmed the angel he once prayed for.

I had known Salvatore for nearly 20 years. It didn't matter anymore whether I loved or hated him. There would be no future for us.

When I finally came to, a group of private doctors was gathered around my bed. I tried to sit up, but one of them pushed me back onto the bed, saying, "You need to rest, Donna Russo."

Then, she moved deftly as she examined me. "If you had stayed in the water for another hour, you would have frozen to death. You're running a high fever. Do you feel any other pain or discomfort?"

"What about my baby?" I rasped.

The doctor's hands froze. "Your baby… didn't make it."

In a flash, my mind went blank. Her lips moved, but I couldn't hear a single thing. The words "didn't make it" echoed in my mind, each time hitting harder than before.

I threw the blanket aside and stumbled toward the door. The IV tore from my arm, blood streaming down the back of my hand.

"Donna Russo, you can't leave yet!"

Almost immediately, the soldati blocked the door and refused to budge. One of them said, "Don Russo ordered that you can't leave the estate until Ms. Conti's surgery is over."

I stared at the same soldati who once took orders only from me. Yet, now, they were standing in my way.

I let out a bitter chuckle. To protect Rosa, Salvatore didn't even know he had a child.

I dug my nails into my palms. A beat later, I dialed his number in front of everyone.

"Salvatore, I'm going to buy a burial plot for our child."

There was a brief silence on the line before he finally spoke, his voice soft. "Don't do this, principessa. We don't have a child. If you want me to believe you, at least come up with a more convincing lie.

"I can't let you go. We both know that the moment you walk out that door, Rosa won't live to see another day."

Everyone in the underworld knew I always settled the score.

At the door, the soldati's expressions hardened. They even leveled their guns at me. "Donna Russo, don't make this harder than it has to be."

I trembled as I yanked the heavy family signet ring from around my neck. I held it high and barked, "You all recognize this, don't you? Stand down!"

Small as it was, the signet ring carried the authority of generations of Dons. To see it was to face the Don himself. Hence, no one dared disobey.

Clutching the ring tightly, I walked toward the door, step by step.

Uncertainty flickered across the soldati's faces before they finally lowered their weapons and stepped aside.

…

At the gates of the estate, a black SUV stopped in front of me. The window rolled down, and the moment I saw it was one of my men, every ounce of strength drained from me. I collapsed onto the seat.

My assistant, Carlo Rossi, helped me into the backseat. Then, he tucked a blanket over me and asked, "Are we going to San Lorenzo Cemetery?"

That was where my father was buried. Over the years, I'd go there to talk to him whenever I was upset. And Salvatore always came to be with me.

But I never imagined that same cemetery would soon hold a headstone for my unborn child.

Before I could answer, a black armored vehicle swerved out from the side, cutting us off and forcing our car to stop. In an instant, black smoke billowed from under the hood.

Just then, Salvatore opened his car door and strode toward us.

"Principessa, get out of the car."

His voice came muffled through the glass, faint and distant. "You're still burning up. You need treatment. I've arranged for the best hospital. Come with me now. But your man stays here."

My head pounded. He was the one who had chosen to save Rosa and leave me in that freezing sea. He was the one who refused to believe I had carried his child. And now, he wanted to put on this show of affection in front of me?

Did he think I'd forgive him no matter what just because I loved him too openly?

"He's wrecked the car," Carlo said with a frown. "But Donna Russo, if you want to leave, I'll protect you with my life."

"Don't." I shook my head and opened the door.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. "I'll go. I want to see just how far he's willing to go for Rosa."

…

Even after we arrived at the new hospital, it still felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

Several attendants stood watch by my bed. The equipment was all state-of-the-art, and the blanket was impossibly soft.

But through the thin wall, Salvatore's gentle voice drifted in.

"Rosa, the doctor said your old wounds were properly treated. There's no risk of infection. You're going to be fine."

Rosa's voice choked with sobs as she replied, "Salvatore, Arianna only has a fever. But I was whipped until my body was covered in scars, and I nearly died. All because of you."

Salvatore was silent for a moment, then sighed. "You've suffered enough. Once you've recovered, I'll take you home.

"The Moretti family is under my control now. If Arianna behaves and doesn't come after you, she can still keep her title."

His voice dropped lower. "But if she doesn't…"

I couldn't hear the rest, but I didn't have to. I knew exactly what he meant.

I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling, tears soaking my pillow. It was almost laughable. Bullets had never made me cry, but Salvatore did.

As the tears dried on my skin, I swore it would be the last time I ever cried for him.