Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice.

But for me, he broke it.

The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back.

The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me.

The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound.

Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life.

After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back.

I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me.

Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters.

Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race.

One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken.

The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance.

I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car.

I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races.

He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble.

My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share.

His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

Bang! The starting gun fired.

Elio's modified Maserati shot off the line like an uncaged black beast. He barely slowed for the corners, its tires screaming against the pavement in a shrill cry that pierced the entire tunnel.

His driving was just as I remembered from when he'd pursued me: wild and commanding, every overtake a gamble with death itself.

On the final lap, the car nearly went airborne as it tore across the finish line in first place.

The underground racetrack erupted in a deafening roar of shouts and whistles.

Before the dust settled, Elio threw open the car door and strode toward the girl tied up at the finish line.

Watched by hundreds of mobsters, he stripped off his expensive, custom-tailored suit jacket. His silk shirt clung to his chest, outlining the lily tattoo meant for me. He then wrapped the jacket, still warm from his body, tightly around Ava's shivering frame.

"You're safe now," he soothed, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it before.

Then, he drew the Browning from his waistband. He pressed the muzzle to the temple of the boss who had used Ava as a bargaining chip, then lowered the gun and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger, shattering the man's kneecap.

Amid the screams, he holstered his weapon and finally looked up, his gaze finding me on the high platform through the swirling smoke.

"Eleonora." He tilted his head back, his voice cutting through the now silent crowd. "Be good. Don't look at me like that."

He paused. "Her father took a bullet for the Carbone family. We owe her a life debt. She's been through hell."

I was thrown back to a night one year ago, when I found out he had stayed by her side all night instead of coming home.

He had looked at me the same way then, saying, "Eleonora, let me explain. She was unstable, threatening suicide. I was just making sure she didn't hurt herself."

That time, I had smashed our engagement ring and fled the manor in the middle of the night.

But now, I stood in the night wind, my nails digging into my palms so hard they nearly drew blood, yet my expression was as still as a frozen lake.

"We?" I spoke softly, my voice low, but in the silent racetrack, it was impossibly clear. "Elio, be clear. What, exactly, do we owe her?"

He froze, clearly not expecting me to question him on the spot.

"A year ago, you abandoned me to take care of her, saying she was fragile and couldn't be left alone." My voice began to tremble. "Now you break your blood oath for her, gambling with your own life and drawing your weapon, all because you claim she ended up this way because of us."

I stared into his eyes.

"Elio Carbone, how many more excuses are you going to make?"

His expression hardened, his brow knitting into a severe line.

"Eleonora, don't embarrass me in public."

"Embarrass you?"

I laughed. "So, asking you to keep your promise is an embarrassment."

Tears streamed down my face, beyond my control. "I thought I was done crying over you."

Behind him, Ava gently tugged on his sleeve. Her voice was soft and timid, catching in a sob. "Elio, please don't fight with the Donna because of me... It's all my fault..."

Elio didn't look back at her, but he reached behind him to pat her hand reassuringly.

His gaze remained locked on me, his tone leaving no room for debate. "We'll talk about this at home."

Seeing his tall frame shielding another woman from the wind, a chill pierced my heart. "So this is what a Don's promise is worth. Nothing."

His jaw tightened, and he looked ready to explode, but before he could speak, I had already turned away.

"Eleonora!" he called after me.

I didn't look back. Step by step, I walked out of that underground racetrack, away from the stench of gasoline and blood.

The next morning, I returned from chapel with my best friend and pushed open the ornate double doors to the master bedroom.

Ava stood barefoot on the thick Persian rug, wearing one of my silk nightgowns, the fabric slipping off one shoulder. The red marks blooming across her neck stung my eyes.

Elio was sitting on the velvet sofa, smoking a cigar. The moment he saw me, he shot to his feet.

"Eleonora, let me explain." His voice held a rare note of panic. "She tricked the soldato at the door, said she was here to thank me in person for yesterday. Nothing happened between us."

I stared at the curves of Ava's body, barely concealed by the nightgown, and my stomach churned, bile rising in my throat.

"Elio." I clenched the fabric of my dress, my voice dangerously calm. "Send her away."

"Send her to Chicago, Miami, or Europe. Anywhere outside the family's reach. I don't want to see her again."

He didn't answer immediately.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Her father died for the family."

"She's an orphan. Without our protection, she wouldn't survive three days."

"If you can't bear to send her away, then I'll go." I looked at him, my face pale. "Either she leaves, or we get a divorce."

The warmth in Elio's eyes vanished, replaced by ice. He took a step forward.

His shadow fell over me. He towered over me, his gaze scrutinizing. "Eleonora, the same trick won't work twice."

"Last time, I was willing to indulge you, to let you throw your fit, to stand outside your family's crumbling estate for a day and a night."

He reached out, as if to touch my face. I flinched away, avoiding his hand.

His hand froze in midair, then slowly retracted. A cold smirk touched his lips.

"You think you can just leave?" he laughed softly. "Eleonora, what do you take me for?"

"Besides," he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, "without my protection, you're just the fallen princess of the disgraced Bianchi family. The moment you walk out that door, the vultures will tear you apart."

That cruel truth was sharper than a bullet, piercing the last of my hope.

He knew exactly how to break my pride.

"Ava will be my personal assistant from now on. She'll stay at the manor," he announced, straightening, his tone an unchallengeable command.

"I'll be responsible for her safety."

"This is not a discussion."

Silence stretched between us for three heartbeats.

Then I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Elio, you disgust me."

He turned his head from the force of the blow, ran his tongue over his split lip, then slowly turned back, his gaze like ice.

"You need to cool down." He buttoned his suit jacket. "I won't be back at the manor for a few days. Think about what you've done."

His taillights disappeared beyond the iron gates at the end of the driveway. I stood there, staring at the empty drive, and closed my eyes in despair.

My phone lit up. I glanced down at the message I had been waiting for.

[Donna, as per your request, the private dive team and deep-sea submersible have been arranged. Ready to depart for the Mariana Trench on your command.]

It was the anniversary surprise I had prepared for Elio. I was going to take him to the deepest place on earth, and in the silence of the abyss, tell him we were having an heir.

Now, it was all meaningless.

I typed a simple reply: Change the plan. We leave through the underwater tunnel.

Then I deleted the message and dialed another number. "Prepare the divorce papers."

After hanging up, I clutched the phone, my other hand resting gently on my stomach.

A small life was growing there.

An heir to his bloodline that Elio Carbone knew nothing about.

"Baby," I whispered, lowering my head. "Mama's going to take you to see an ocean without the smoke of gunpowder."

"Donna, this is the family's morning briefing." The maid, her eyes downcast, placed several confidential files and newspapers on the mahogany table, her hands trembling slightly.

I waved a hand, dismissing her.

An entire week. Elio hadn't set foot in the manor.

In his absence, rumors swirled through the family's inner circle.

He took Ava to the underground cigar clubs reserved for high-ranking bosses. He accompanied her to the Metropolitan Opera, brazenly sitting in the velvet box that had once been exclusively mine.

These unspoken whispers were a precise dagger to my pride.

The vast manor felt suffocatingly empty. Every night, the cold Atlantic wind whistled through the withered branches of the rose garden.

I looked at the photos from the private investigator. Elio's eyes, which once burned only for me, were now filled with tenderness for another woman.

My heart froze over, inch by inch, turning colder than the November wind.

It was a bitter irony that I had once thrown myself into his arms without a second thought. How foolish I'd been to be moved by his blood oath.

I dialed Elio's private line. It rang for a long time before he finally answered. The background was a cacophony of noise.

"What is it?" His voice was sharp, annoyed at the interruption.

"Come home."

"I'm busy."

I took a slow, deep breath of the cold air, willing my voice not to tremble. "Elio, do you remember what tonight is?"

Silence stretched on the other end of the line. After a long moment, his tone softened slightly. "...I'll be back later."

After hanging up, I sat on the sofa in the dim light, waiting from dusk until late at night, and from late at night until three in the morning.

Finally, a sound echoed from the entrance hall. I walked over to see Ava struggling to support a dead-drunk Elio.

His tall frame was slumped against her, the strong scent of bourbon mingling with her cheap perfume.

When Ava saw me, she flinched, her face immediately a mask of timid innocence. "Donna, please don't misunderstand. Today is the anniversary of my father's death. The Don only had a little too much to drink while comforting me. Please don't be angry with him..."

I looked at her, a suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. I didn't even have the strength to feel angry, only a weary sorrow that left me utterly silenced.

Ava's eyes instantly reddened. Tears welled as she choked out, "I'm sorry..."

Hearing the commotion, the stumbling Elio seemed to sense a threat, instinctively pulling Ava behind him. "Eleonora," he slurred. "Don't... don't be so hard on her. She's been through enough."

The last ember of warmth in my heart died.

I emotionlessly beckoned for the night guards to carry their venerable Don back to the master bedroom.

Only Ava and I remained in the grand hall.

I picked up the manila envelope I had prepared and held it out to her.

"I know what you want."

"Get him to sign this without his knowledge, and the position of the Carbone family's matriarch is yours."

She stared at the divorce papers, her eyes flickering with conflict before she finally took the folder.

When Elio woke up the next day, he pressed his temples, the first thing he said to me was, "Last night... you didn't give Ava a hard time, did you?"

I looked at his shameless face and said calmly, "Elio, you swore on the cross. You swore you would never let me spend our anniversary alone."

He froze, guiltily averting his gaze. "Last night was different. Ava was a mess. She's alone. What do you want for compensation? A yacht? South African diamonds? Name it, and it's yours."

"And what if I want a divorce?"

His face instantly darkened. "Eleonora, stop this nonsense. I'm pretending I didn't hear that."

He roughly grabbed his coat and practically fled. Before he left, he had his finance department wire a fortune to my offshore account.

He still thought money could buy my obedience.

Less than an hour later, a black armored car pulled up to the manor's gate.

One of his men handed me a package. It was from Ava.

I tore open the seal and flipped to the last page. In the signature line, "Elio Carbone" was scrawled in his bold, familiar script.

I was packing the last of my silk nightgowns into a leather trunk when the bedroom door was kicked open, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang that made my heart leap into my throat.

Elio strode toward me, carrying the scent of the night wind and acrid gunpowder.

He lunged, his hand clamping around my wrist like an iron vise, the force so great I thought my bones would crush.

"Eleonora! I've explained it a thousand times. There is nothing between me and Ava!"

"Her father died for the family. I feel sorry for her. She can't sleep, she lives in constant fear. Why are you trying to destroy her?! Today she was even pushed to the point where I had to sign her critical condition notice!"

My heart clenched violently.

So that was Ava’s trick to make him sign the divorce papers.

A viper, through and through. Even in a situation that should have benefited both of us, she still made sure to bite me on the way out.

But the most important thing was—

Elio believed her performance without a second thought.

And came straight to interrogate me.

He jerked me so hard I stumbled, a sharp pain shooting up my arm. I winced, my face paling. "Elio! Let go! You're hurting me!" I struggled, but my strength was nothing against the tyrant born to control everything.

My cry of pain seemed to infuriate him. He swept an arm out and slammed me against the walnut wardrobe. My back hit the wood hard, and I let out a muffled grunt.

"How did you become so heartless?"

"Have I given you too much freedom? Spoiled you so much you've forgotten the most basic rules of this family? Have you become this cruel?!"

"Do you have any idea Ava almost died last night? Someone planted a bomb under her car!"

"She screams at the sound of a car engine now! She's on the verge of a breakdown!"

I leaned against the wardrobe, gasping for breath, rubbing my aching wrist. As I listened to his accusations, my heart sank.

"I didn't do it," I said, looking up at him, my voice tired but clear.

"Who else in New York would dare touch my people besides you?!" he sneered, closing in, his rough thumb digging into my cheek.

"Eleonora, I missed our anniversary. I didn't have dinner with you. And for that, you resort to this? How did you become so vicious?!"

"I said, I didn't do it!" I took a deep breath, my eyes stinging as I fought back the tears.

"Enough!" Elio shouted, his patience gone. "Since you can't stand to see her happy, since you're so jealous, then you can experience the life she's been living!"

My heart clenched. "What do you mean?"

"The abandoned church in the north suburbs, where the family deals with its traitors. You'll stay there," he sentenced me. "It's the same place Ava hid when she was at her lowest. You can repent before the cross. When you've learned some mercy, you can come home."

"Are you insane? I'm not going." I couldn't believe his cruelty.

"It's not up to you." Elio gave a cruel smile. "Eleonora, on my turf, you don't have the right to say no."

He strode forward and threw me over his shoulder.

He carried me from the master bedroom and threw me into the back of an armored SUV. The doors locked, sealing my struggles within the bulletproof glass.

The car stopped before a gloomy, desolate church. He dragged me out and shoved me into a cold, damp stone prayer room with no heating.

A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. I looked around at the drafty stone walls, cold sweat soaking my back. "Elio, it's too cold in here. My stomach... I think I might be..."

"What? The precious Donna can't take it already?" He cut me off, reaching out to smooth my messy hair, but his touch made my skin crawl.

"Ava had it a hundred times worse. This is for your own good. Reflect on what you've done. Starting tomorrow, you will kneel and pray under the watch of the guards."

He turned and left without a second glance. The roar of the engine tore through the night, leaving me to be dragged into that cold, shadow-filled building.