"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.

The days that followed were a living hell.

The abandoned church was in disrepair. The New York winter wind cut through the cracks in the stained-glass windows like razors against my skin.

I was forced to kneel for hours every day on the cold stone floor. The only food was stale bread. The water tasted of rust.

At night, I curled up on a straw mat under the altar, the stone floor leaching the warmth from my body.

On the third night, a high fever took hold. A dull ache pulsed deep in my lower abdomen, forcing me to curl into a ball.

"Baby..." I caressed my stomach, tears falling onto the dusty stone tiles. "Just hold on a little longer."

My vision blurred from the fever. Waves of cramping pain tore at my sanity. Cold sweat soaked my silk nightgown, clinging to my burning skin.

"Please..." I crawled toward the heavy oak door, my nails scraping desperately against the wood. "Let me see a doctor..."

The old capo assigned to guard me answered from outside the door, his voice flat. "Donna, the Don gave orders. He said you would use any excuse to try and escape. I can't defy a direct order."

"I'm not lying!" My voice was so hoarse I could taste blood. "I'm sick... Please..."

The heavy iron lock turned, and the door opened. The old capo stood silhouetted against the light, flanked by two expressionless soldati.

"Take the Donna back," he said flatly.

Two soldati grabbed me and roughly dragged me back toward the altar. I struggled, but they held me fast.

"You can't do this!" I cried out. "I'm carrying the Carbone heir! The baby!"

The old capo didn't even blink. "Donna, do not speak such nonsense. The Don instructed us that you are skilled at using lies to gain sympathy."

I was thrown back onto the cold straw mat. My shoulder slammed against the stone, and my vision went black.

"Watch her," the old capo ordered coldly. "Tomorrow, she kneels again."

The door closed, the sound of the heavy lock clicking into place sharp and final.

I hugged my arms, my body temperature dropping in the darkness.

"Baby..." I weakly caressed my stomach, my tears soaking the straw mat. "I'm sorry... Mama can't protect you..."

My consciousness began to slip. The last thing I saw was the broken face of the Holy Mother on the domed ceiling.

I don't know how much time passed. When I thought I would die there, the door finally opened.

Elio walked in, a silhouette against the light. He looked at me, emaciated and curled in the corner, and his brow furrowed. A flicker of compassion crossed his face before it was masked by indifference.

He looked at me, his hand starting to reach out before it stopped abruptly midair.

"Eleonora, had enough already?"

He knelt on one knee, his long fingers, usually so aggressive, now surprisingly gentle as he cupped my cold face.

His rough thumb brushed against my colorless lips, his eyes filled with chilling self-righteousness. "I locked you up to teach you a lesson. A little hardship will remind you of the rules of this family."

He lowered his head, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

His familiar, warm breath fanned my skin. "If you can't stand it anymore, it's simple. Apologize to Ava in front of all the capos. Admit you were wrong. Bow your head, and we go home."

"Stop throwing a tantrum." He kissed my earlobe. "It's not easy for me to see you suffer."

In just three days, I could feel myself withering. The silk nightgown that once fit perfectly now hung loosely from my bony shoulders.

My skin was a sickly sallow from malnutrition, the dark circles under my eyes too deep to hide. The exhaustion and mental pressure were two mountains crushing me.

But I tightened my hand over my stomach, feeling the faint but firm presence there. I had to hold on.

The fever and the dull ache in my abdomen were cold vines, tightening their grip. I knew if I stayed here, I would lose this child.

I looked up at the man who had once carved my name over his heart, and slowly lowered my lashes.

"Fine." I forced myself to sit up. "I'll apologize."