"I gave you the money," Justine replied in a bare voice.

Touching her face, which still burned from Andrew's slap, she blinked, fighting off the dizziness.

"You idiot!" Andrew yelled. "Get out of here."

"I need a place to stay tonight." Justine's request echoed through the living room.

"No. You're not staying here." The burly man raised his voice.

Andrew was over forty. The alliance with Kevin Harrison was of utmost importance to expand the business, and Justine was a risk he couldn't have around. She just had to convince her husband to make a deal with his rival, but she wasted time, giving in to the sensuality of that Italian and her work as a fashion designer.

"Please, Mom!" Justine's pleading gaze fell on the woman sitting on the sofa.

"You'd better go, Chérie." Sophia repeated Andrew's order, unshaken.

"How could you do this to me?" Tears burned in Justine's eyes. "First, you abandoned me with my grandmother after my father died, and now you're rejecting me again!"

"I never wanted children, Justine!" Sophia's voice changed, cold as ice. "Your father was the one who insisted. It's a good thing he died." Sophia confessed. "I wasted ten years of my life taking care of an unwanted daughter."

"So that's why you abandoned me with my grandmother?"

With a polite smile, Sophia replied, "Of course! That old woman adored you, and I wanted distance from you."

At eighteen, Justine left rural France to find Sophia, seeking help for her grandmother who had cancer. Instead of help, she entered into an agreement with two con swindlers who destroyed her life.

Andrew ran his hand over his beard, flashing a cruel smile as he listened to the argument.

"That's enough; you can leave." Sophia threw the words into the air as she stood up. "I need to give my husband some attention." As she spoke, Sofia walked gracefully until she stopped next to Andrew.

Justine had never felt so much resentment toward her mother. The only person who should have supported her had just turned her back on her in her moment of greatest despair.

In tears, Justine left the luxurious penthouse. She had no idea how she would take care of a baby on her own.

Within a few hours, she took the diamond ring off her finger, along with her earrings and necklace, and sold everything. 

With the money, she rented a hotel room on Via Padova in Milan. The next morning, she tried to open the studio but stopped when she saw two men standing at the entrance.

"Mr. Harrison ordered the studio to be closed," one of her ex-husband's henchmen said, blocking her way.

"But my collection and sketches are in there," Justine argued tearfully.

"All of that belongs to Mr. Harrison," the shorter man warned. "Get out!" he ordered.

No henchman had dared to speak to her in that tone a few months ago. Everyone respected her and did everything she asked. But at that moment, she was being shooed away with contempt.

Returning to her inhospitable hotel room, she tried to advertise her work but found that many customers were badmouthing her clothes on social media. 

Days after the separation, the fashion designer, who barely had any space in her schedule, didn't even have a decent place to sell the clothes she created.

On the day of the divorce, Kevin barely paid any attention to her. He just initiated the document and left in a hurry. She ran to catch up with him but stopped when she saw him hugging another woman.

​"Excuse me, can we talk?" Justine's voice sounded weak.

He didn't even look back; he just kept walking.

"Kevin!" Justine stopped in front of him and Beatrice.

"Get out of my way," the bitter man muttered. "I don't want to see your face in this town again."

Looking up, Justine caught a brief glimpse of Beatrice, who was shaking Kevin's hand. 

Devastated, Justine returned to the room where she had signed the papers and took what Kevin's lawyer handed her.

"You signed a separation of property agreement. What each of you owned before the union remains the exclusive property of the parties."

"I can't keep the car?" Justine asked, looking at the lawyer.

"Mr. Harrison gave his car to his girlfriend. He also claimed that there was a shortage of seventy thousand euros and demanded that this amount be returned as soon as possible."

"How am I going to pay?" Justine asked, exasperated. "I'm out of work and barely have enough to eat..."

Despair consumed her. The pregnant young woman couldn't hold back her tears.

"Mr. Harrison's employee left some bags with your belongings," the lawyer said. "Follow the secretary to the room where the luggage is."

"What about my baby?" she asked. "I'm pregnant!"

"Have you talked to Mr. Harrison about this?" Suspicious, the lawyer adjusted his glasses as he examined her still-flat stomach.

"I told him, but Kevin thinks the child isn't his," she stammered.

"Ask your lawyer to contact me. See you soon, Miss Delacroix." 

Where would he find a pro bono lawyer who would defend his rights? Besides, no one in that town would dare to sue Kevin Harrison Giordano.

She left, carrying one piece of luggage at a time to the taxi.

Soon, Justine sold some designer clothes, shoes, and accessories on an online store. With the money she made, she rented a small apartment downtown.

In a few days, Justine found work as a seamstress in a clothing studio and excelled at everything she did. But one day, she was fired without explanation.

"It was Mr. Harrison Giordano who had me fired, wasn't it?" Justine wanted to know at all costs.

It was obvious. Her ex-husband was cruel and vengeful. He didn't want to kill her, but he would do anything to make Justine pay for her betrayal.

"Please don't complicate my situation. Go away!" The owner of the studio dismissed her without further explanation.

Every day it became more difficult to find a job.

"How am I going to pay off the seventy thousand euro debt?" she thought desperately as she rode the subway back to her room. "Kevin won't stop until I leave Milan."

Despite her best efforts to find work in the fashion capital, she was unsuccessful.

Her belly was barely visible in her fifth month of pregnancy due to poor nutrition.

The baby was expected to be born soon, and she was grateful for any job opportunity, even if it was in a restaurant.

Occasionally, she would contact her ex to discuss the pregnancy, but Kevin was in Ibiza with his new girlfriend, Beatrice, and had no intention of returning.

The CEO's consigliere had already given the order: Justine was forbidden from entering the company or the mansion. All employees were prohibited from disclosing any information about their boss. To ensure her own livelihood, Justine washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen of a restaurant at night.

In her eighth month, she left work early, feeling strong contractions. In the midst of excruciating pain, she walked the streets asking for a ride, but everyone refused to help the pregnant and ragged woman. When she finally made it to the emergency room, she collapsed and lost consciousness.

Hours later, Justine woke up. Despair took hold as soon as she realized she was lying on a stretcher, IV fluids running through her veins.

"Where's my baby?" Her voice was weak as she asked the nurse.

"Your son is with his grandmother." The nurse pointed to Sophia, standing near the window.

"Is it a boy?" Curious, Justine asked.

"Yes!" The nurse replied, smiling kindly.

On the other side, Sophia rocked the newborn wrapped in a blue blanket.

"I brought diapers, clothes, and some money for you," Sophia said, approaching her.

"What are you doing here?" Justine asked weakly.

In a complacent tone, Sophia replied, "I got a call from the hospital. They said the baby was born."

Avoiding eye contact, Justine whispered, "I forgot to remove you from my emergency contacts."

"Please leave my son and go away, Sophia." Justine said bitterly.

Looking at the newborn yawning in her lap, Sophia asked, "Can I stay a little longer with my grandson?"

"No!"

With a sigh, Sophia took another look at the baby in her arms before turning to Justine and asking, "At least you could tell me the baby's name?"

"My son's name is Bryan Delacroix," Justine replied, remembering her late father.

But Justine just wanted to annoy Sophia because she was still hurt that Sophia chose to side with her mobster lover instead of helping her when she needed it most.

"You named him after your father. How sweet!" There was sarcasm in Sophia's soft voice.

After picking up the baby, Justine saw the boy's small blue eyes. Wherever she went, she would carry with her a vivid memory of her ex-husband.

"When I came to Milan, I lived in a tenement on Via Gola, in Navigli," Sophia confessed, taking the key from her purse. "I have an apartment on the third floor of one of the buildings in that tenement. It's a suburb. There, you can begin anew, free from the tug-of-war between Kevin and Andrew. That area isn't under their control."

"I don't need your help." Although she did, Justine let her pride get the better of her.

"You won't be working for a while, and you'll need to take care of the baby for a few weeks. How will you afford rent in central Milan?"

Sophia was right. There was no way Justine could stay in that city anymore. She had no choice but to accept that woman's help.

Reluctantly, Justine accepted the woman's help. After all, it was the least Sophia could do after getting Justine involved in the war between two powerful mobsters.

After giving the newborn to his mother, Sophia smiled quietly and said, "Take good care of him." She moved away from the bed and waved. "Goodbye!"

It was ironic to see Sophia, the most incompetent mother in the world, wanting to dispense her counsel, but despite everything, Justine was willing to do anything for that little being who moved his little hands and legs while she held him in her arms.

A few days later, Justine was discharged from the hospital and accepted Sophia's ride to the suburb. She settled into a simple apartment with her baby. That was the last time they saw each other.

The following year, Justine tried to contact Sophia for Bryan's birthday but received the news that she had died. Although she was hurt by her mother, Justine cried for a few days but did not want to know the cause of death of the woman who had despised her.

❛ ━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━❜

Seven Years Later...

Justine was used to living illegally in a dilapidated apartment in the slums of Via Gola, an area known as the "Bronx" of Milan. The place was dangerous due to drug trafficking and widespread illegality, but she managed to hide for years without her ex-husband harming her.

On that foggy day, Via Gola seemed quiet. Justine usually left home at seven in the morning to drop her son off at school and go straight to the factory. She worked as a seamstress during the day and waited tables at a restaurant in Navigli at night. Sometimes pimps or drug dealers approached her, but she always refused.

On a mild afternoon, Justine stopped in front of the school entrance. Her golden eyes watched the children as they left. When she saw Bryan, she waved. Her lips formed a smile that tried to hide her exhaustion.

The week before, Bryan had turned six. Justine hadn't given him his present yet, but her keen eyes noticed the sadness and a bruise on the boy's face.

"Who did this to you, my dear?" She ran her hand through her son's light brown hair, concerned.

"No one did anything, Mum!" Bryan replied, lowering his head and looking at his feet.

She touched Bryan's chin, lifted his face, and saw tears in his blue eyes.

"Excuse me, Miss Delacroix!" The teacher approached Justine. "Bryan has been suspended for three days for fighting with a classmate."

"Why did you hit your classmate, Bryan?" Justine retorted vehemently.

"He called me a bastard because I don't have a father," the child explained, despite the teacher shaking her head. "So I hit him."

"The other student was also suspended," said the teacher. "We shouldn't solve everything with violence... Bryan should have told me he was being bullied."

"Sorry, me!" Justine apologized. "I'll talk to my son; the situation won't happen again."

"If it happens again, Bryan will be expelled from school," the teacher said. "We don't tolerate violence in the classroom.

Holding the little boy's hand, Justine walked down the street. When they stopped, she looked into the boy's blue eyes.

"You shouldn't have hit your classmate," Justine scolded her son.

"He keeps saying that I'll go to an orphanage if you die. Why does everyone have a father and I don't?" The childish voice asked. "I didn't want my father to die. I'd rather have my dad here."

Those words hit Justine like a blow to the heart. It was difficult to keep up the lie. Kevin was extremely vindictive, and Justine feared he would harass Bryan because of her mistakes.

Hoping to cheer her son up and make him forget about his father, Justine shared some news, saying "I got the money to buy you a new soccer ball."

"Yay!" Bryan cheered. "Can I see it?"

Seeing her son smile, Justine took the €20 bill from her purse and handed it to him.

Justine had been so distracted that she didn't notice the hooded man who had sneaked up from behind and had grabbed her son's arm.

"Help, Mom!" Bryan shouted as he pulled out the money that he thought the man was trying to steal.

Overcome with desperation, Justine jumped on the man's back and grabbed him by the neck as she tried to save her son.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and the boy's body fell to the ground. The hooded man ran away.

"No! No! No!" Justine screamed desperately. "Bryan, wake up!" She touched his head, and terror froze her body as she felt warm liquid running down her hand.

"A child has been shot!" someone shouted. "Call an ambulance."

The police car stopped next to the distraught mother, who remained kneeling. Justine cried uncontrollably, hugging the lifeless body of little Bryan, who had been shot in the head.

"No! No! Kevin couldn't have done this to my son!" She screamed desperately amid her anguished cries.

At San Raffaele Gruppo San Donato Hospital, Justine's son had been shot at point-blank range and was between life and death due to severe bleeding.

"Miss Delacroix!" Dr. Spina called out.

Justine lifted her downcast face before asking, "How is my son?"

The doctor on duty, with a heavy look on her face, explained the situation coldly but without hiding her pain. The .38 caliber revolver had caused devastating damage.

The doctor paused before continuing, the weight of her words like a blow.

"We removed the bullet and cleaned the wound, but his chances of survival are practically nil." The neurosurgeon said. "The injury is extremely serious, because when it hit the bone, it fragmented into three pieces. One piece lodged in the left side of the brain. Another pierced the jugular vein, and the third tore the skin on his neck as it exited."

"Please save my son, doctor!" Justine pleaded in desperation.

The neurosurgeon looked at Justine, who was sobbing and crying, but the doctor had to be realistic, even if it dashed her hopes: "Even if he survives, the brain damage may be irreparable. The brain connections are seriously compromised."

Justine, her eyes fixed on the floor, felt a complete emptiness take over her chest. But the doctor's words still echoed in her mind. "Practically nil..." She couldn't understand, and something inside her broke.

"No." Justine's voice came out shaky, as if she were trying to speak, but her throat was too tight. "No... this can't be happening. My son can't die, doctor. Please, no..."

She approached the doctor, as if a gesture of closeness could change the course of events. Despair was etched on her face, but she still tried, somehow, to cling to a thread of hope, however tenuous it might be.

"No... please, doctor, don't let my son die." Justine begged, crying. "He has to stay with me. He has to come home."

The doctor took a deep breath before giving him another piece of fateful news: "Your son needs a transfusion, and we don't have any RH-negative blood bags. I checked to see if I could get some from other hospitals or collection centers, but it's a rare blood type."

"Are you sure, doctor?" Asked Justine, nervous.

"I've already checked, Mrs. Delacroix." Sighing, Dr. Spinha reiterated.

Persistent, Justine asked, "Can't he receive a different blood type?"

"Mrs. Delacroix, golden blood has red blood cells that do not have any type of RhD antigen, which makes it very special and dangerous for your son," the doctor explained. "Bryan can only receive blood transfusions from the same blood type," Dr. Spina patiently explained. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, doctor!" replied Justine, choked with tears.

"Do you know anyone in your family who has that blood type, Mrs. Delacroix?"

Nodding, Justine wiped her tears with her hand. Only fifty people in the world had that blood type, and one of them was the man who had rejected Justine when she was pregnant.

Despite her suffering, Justine was willing to do anything to save her son's life.

❛ ━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━❜

In front of the imposing building in the center of Milan, Justine stared at the huge golden sign and read it again: "Harrison Giordano Group." She had been trying to get in for over two hours, but the security guard had stopped her at the entrance. She had no choice but to wait until she saw her ex-husband.

A light rain began to fall, but a mother's desperation was stronger. Justine tried to find shelter under the roof of the small corridor leading to the revolving door at the entrance to the building. The executives looked at her with contempt, both at the exit and at the entrance.

"That's the ex-wife of the CEO of the Harrison Giordano Group," one woman whispered as she shared the gossip with another. "She's the traitor," the nasal voice said with disdain.

Even in the face of all the condemning looks, Justine remained steadfast in her purpose. She would not leave until she found Kevin. Tired, she looked up at the top of the building; she knew her ex-husband was there, and at some point, someone would report the presence of the CEO's ex.

In the company's boardroom, the tall man adjusted his slim-fit blazer and smoothed the black fabric over his chest and abdominal muscles.

He had an authoritative posture. Despite his handsome jawline and well-defined chin, he maintained a stern expression. Picking up his cell phone, he opened the messaging app and listened to the audio from his fiancée: "Honey, don't be late for our wedding rehearsal dinner."

"I'm on my way, Beatrice," he replied and pressed the button to send the voice message.

Kevin ran his hands through his brown hair with blond highlights, throwing the straight strands back. He adjusted the collar of his white linen shirt and loosened the knot of his tie, which seemed to be suffocating him. Getting married again was the last thing he wanted, but to expand the family business, he would go all the way.

The loud knocks on the door made him frown even more. Turning around, he strode to the door and opened it.

"What is it this time, Alessandro?" His inquisitive gaze glared at his assistant.

"Mr. Harrison, your ex is back."

"How dare she?" His forehead wrinkled even more.

"The security guard told Justine to leave, but she's still standing in front of the building. I'm going to call the police."

"No!" Kevin raised his right hand, interrupting him. "I'm going to resolve this situation once and for all."

Closing his fists at his sides, Kevin left his spacious office decorated with classic furniture.

In the private elevator, he stared at the frown of the red-faced man reflected in the mirror. The veins in his forehead and neck were bulging. Mentally, he cursed the day he fell in love and did everything for the woman who betrayed him. When he stepped out into the lobby, the employees moved aside, making room for their boss to pass.

Some of the executives greeted him, but in that moment of rage, Kevin didn't want to talk to any of his company's employees; the heavy footsteps of his loafers on the vinyl floor echoed until he crossed the main entrance of the building.

Outside, Justine looked up. Her heart beat fiercely when their golden and blue eyes met. Justine gripped the strap of her purse tightly the second she faced her ex-husband's grim expression.

"What are you doing here?" He shouted the question. "I hope you came to pay me the money you owe me.

Bryan... you had Bryan shot to get revenge on me."

"Who is that?" Kevin interrupted her. "And why would I kill your new lover?"

Justine's face burned with embarrassment. Some of the passersby watched the scene curiously. Quickly, the assistant approached Kevin, who towered over the woman of average height.

"Sir, your driver is waiting for you. "you." Alessandro pointed to the Lamborghini parked on the sidewalk.

Running his hands over his face, Kevin tried to regain his composure.

"Bryan is my son, and he's dying because you sent one of your henchmen to shoot him."

"Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once." Kevin hissed the words through clenched teeth. "I didn't send anyone to shoot your son, and I would never be capable of such a thing." He turned on his heel, turning his back on her before shouting, "Please pay me the money you owe me."

The driver opened the back door of the luxury car for his boss. Kevin sat down in the seat, adjusting his posture on the soft upholstery.

"Wait, please!" She ran and stopped beside the car, kneeling before he closed the door. "Help my son!"

"You owe me seventy thousand euros, and you still want more money?" A spark of hatred flashed across the man's face as he glared at her. "How dare you?"

"Please donate some of your blood to my son," Justine replied, her voice trembling.

"Get out of here, you crazy woman," the assistant ordered, then touched her shoulder to push her away. "The boy isn't my boss's son."

"Wait." Kevin's hoarse voice commanded, while his blue eyes disapproved of the assistant's attitude. "Why are you asking me this?" Kevin's inquisitive gaze rested on Justine.

"I, I..." The terrible lump in her throat almost prevented her from continuing. After a short pause, Justine continued: "I don't know what to do; my son is dying." She burst into tears as she tried to explain. "He has your blood type."

Kevin's expression softened. The boy had rare blood like his.

"How can you insist on this lie? Everyone knows you had a child with your lover." Alessandro replied incredulously. "Stop bothering Mr. Harrison."

"I'm telling the truth!" She stood up from the floor and justified herself.

Passing by her ex's assistant, Justine got into the car without being invited.

"Kevin, I'll do anything... I'll even work for you for the rest of my life if you save my son's life." She made the promise as she struggled with the assistant, who pulled her out.

"Get out; you're getting the boss's car seat wet." Alessandro intervened, pulling her out of the car and leaving her in the rain.

Justine didn't know what to do anymore. Kevin could use this to get revenge. For a moment, she feared that her ex would take his anger out on his own son.

Alessandro got into the Lamborghini, closing the passenger door behind him. The driver started the car. Outside, Justine followed the car, banging on the window.

"Please help my son," Justine begged as the luxury car sped away. In tears, she watched the car drive away.

"What if the boy really is my son?" The question hammered at Kevin's subconscious.

"Mr. Harrison, this woman is trying to deceive you again," Alessandro replied as if he had heard his boss's thoughts. "Justine is a liar!"

"Shut up!" Annoyed, Kevin broke the silence.

Running his hand over his clenched jaw, he looked back the same way he had years ago, after discovering the betrayal. The memories slowly came back. He had been betrayed and robbed by the woman he loved so much. He felt nothing for his ex-wife, but he was shaken to learn that the boy was dying.