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.

Two weeks later, I was discharged from the hospital and came home to find the house completely redone by Rosa.

The soldati shadowed her everywhere, while Carlo had to request permission multiple times just to get past the gates.

The moment I walked through the door, Salvatore came toward me with his arms open. It was as if nothing had changed.

"Arianna, Rosa's injuries were too serious. I can't trust anyone else to take care of her," he began. "But don't worry. You'll take the third floor, and she'll stay on the second. It's quieter up there. I won't let her bother you."

He said it so nicely, yet my clothes had already been packed and dumped at the foot of the stairs.

Clearly, this wasn't a discussion. It was an order.

I stepped out of his reach and took out the finalized divorce agreement from my bag. "Sign them, Salvatore. After that, you can let Rosa live wherever you want."

He didn't even glance at it. Without a word, he tore the papers in half.

Moments later, a few of his men came in and hung a new wedding photo on the wall.

Salvatore stepped forward and wrapped me in a firm embrace, saying, "Arianna, get mad all you want, but didn't we agree? No threats of breaking up or divorce. As long as I'm breathing, that's never happening."

I stared at him in disbelief. From the corner of my eye, I caught Rosa glaring at me with hatred on the second-floor landing.

"You want me to be your wife in name only and turn a blind eye to the mistress you've brought into our home?" I questioned. "You always said no one knew me better than you. So, tell me. Do you really think I'd accept that?"

Still, Salvatore looked at me with the same helpless, doting gaze I knew so well. "Principessa, you don't understand now. When the time comes, I'll explain everything."

Having said that, he led me to the dining table, his arm still around me. All my favorite dishes were laid out, and he had even lit candles.

"You've always complained about restaurant food. So, I cooked these myself. Go on. Try them. I made sure to use the healthiest ingredients since you just got discharged."

The food smelled wonderful, but my stomach churned.

Without warning, I flipped the table over. Plates shattered across the floor, and the candlesticks clattered as they rolled away.

Salvatore's eyes widened with anger before he grabbed my wrist. "Arianna Moretti! Do you have to be this stubborn?"

I yanked my hand free and pointed at Rosa, still standing on the stairs.

"Get the hell out of my house, both of you! The Morettis don't shelter traitors!"

Salvatore looked at me and let out a chuckle. "Calm down, Arianna. I'm the Don now. Anyone who goes against me is a traitor. You don't want to find out what happens to traitors in the dungeon, do you?"

I clenched my teeth as a chill ran through me.

"Behave." He dragged me up to the third floor as he spoke. "Get some rest. If you're not hungry now, you can eat later tonight."

The small room on the top floor had always borne a mocking name—the mistress's room. It was where unfaithful Dons kept their lovers out of sight.

Now, Salvatore had sent me to that room, while the real mistress was given the master bedroom downstairs.

I sat on the narrow bed, staring at the dust-coated pillow. A beat later, I pulled out my phone. It was already on the line.

"You heard everything, didn't you? I wasn't lying. We want the same thing. That's why you're going to help me," I said through gritted teeth.

When I hung up, exhaustion finally caught up with me, and I collapsed onto the bed.

From downstairs came Rosa's sweet voice as she coaxed Salvatore into taking her out for a candlelit dinner at an award-winning restaurant.

After hurting for so long, numbness was all that remained.

Once I saw Salvatore drive away with Rosa, I sent him the report confirming my miscarriage. Then, I locked the door.

After that, I took out a lighter and set the bed on fire. Flames roared to life, crackling through the room.

I lay back and closed my eyes, strangely at peace.

…

Meanwhile, at an award-winning restaurant, Rosa was tugging at Salvatore's arm.

"Why did you order everything I don't like? I don't want that. Let's get something else," she whined.

Salvatore shook his head. "Not today. Arianna has no appetite. So, I need to bring these back for her before she makes herself sick again."

Ignoring Rosa's tearful gaze, he picked up the bag of food and turned to leave.

Just as he reached the door, a soldato rushed up to him, panic written all over his face.

"Don Russo! Something's happened! Donna Russo set fire to the manor!"

Yet, Salvatore let out a dismissive laugh. "It's just a house. Let her burn it if it makes her happy. Is anyone hurt?"

Sweat glistened on the soldato's forehead, and his voice shook as he stammered, "B-But Donna Russo locked herself in the attic. We couldn't… save her."

In an instant, Salvatore froze mid-step.