Five years ago, right after Dante became the Don, he was ambushed.

At the time, I had just turned eighteen and left the orphanage. I stumbled upon him, covered in blood. Recognizing him as a benefactor of the orphanage, I don't know where I found the courage, but I dragged him into an abandoned warehouse to hide.

Before the Conti family arrived, we were caught. I took a bullet for him, nearly shattering my spine.

We were eventually returned to the Conti estate. Dante was gravely injured, but the moment he woke—fever burning through him—he ran to my bedside.

"I owe you your life. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

I looked at his face and, almost on impulse, said, "In return for saving you… you'll give yourself to me."

I meant it as a joke. He nodded and agreed.

Those days while he recovered were the happiest we ever had.

When he healed, he defied everyone and married me, an orphan girl. He said I was the only light in that dark period of his life and that I deserved the highest honor in the Conti family: to be their Madre.

But no one in the Conti family respected me.

His cousin mocked my lowly origins at the wedding. Dante not only crippled him but publicly declared that my status would be equal to his. From that day on, no one dared to look down on me.

Soon, we had Nico. But giving birth was nearly fatal—I risked losing half my life due to old injuries. Dante, with tears in his eyes, said I had terrified him and from then on would rush home daily just to be near me.

Yet when Nico turned one, Dante's clinginess vanished. Instead, he spent nights away, attending to family business. The intimacy we once shared disappeared, leaving me anxious, fearing he was secretly doing something dangerous.

Out of worry, I placed a tracker on him.

That's when I discovered the truth: those nights away weren't for work—they were spent caring for a sick childhood friend, coaxing her to take medicine.

Alessia Bellini was the Principessa of the Bellini family, freshly graduated and returned home. The Conti and Bellini families had always been close—if not for a past mishap, they would have been married already.

I had met Alessia before.

On our anniversary, I had prepared a candlelit dinner, waiting for Dante to come home. Instead, he returned with Alessia and introduced her.

"This is my childhood friend, just back from abroad. Thought she should meet you."

I trusted him completely and cared for her sincerely. I believed in us.

But reality hit me like a slap in the face.

Our first explosive fight erupted on my birthday. For five years, Dante had always returned home to personally prepare my birthday dinner without fail. That year, he didn't come. Phone calls went unanswered; messages ignored. I waited until deep into the night. Even after Nico had fallen sleep, Dante had yet to return.

At dawn, he sent a rushed voice message. "Bianca, I have urgent matters tonight. You and Nico go to sleep. Don't wait for me."

But the faint, intimate moan of Alessia in the background made his lie painfully obvious.

I checked the tracker.

Seeing them entangled, my eyes burned with rage. I was about to storm in and confront them.

Dante blocked me. He gripped my wrist tightly, voice icy, as he said, "Bianca, she's the Bellini family Principessa. You can't touch her. If anything happens to her, forget about curing your orphanage director."

I froze, blood running cold.

The woman who raised me, my most important person, depended on the medicine in Dante's hands for her life.

I could do nothing but leave, humiliated, tears streaming under Alessia's scornful gaze.

From then on, he grew bolder, hardly returning home at all.

I asked for a divorce.

He refused to sign, even threatening me with our son's custody and my orphanage director's life-saving medicine.

I couldn't understand… why.

After that incident, I collapsed completely. My old injuries flared up, and I fainted at home.

When Dante got the call, his face drained of color. He grabbed my hand, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Bianca… it's my fault. Please, don't leave me! As long as you're safe, I don't want anything else!"

For a while, after I recovered, he seemed like his old self. He stopped seeing Alessia. I thought our lives had returned to normal—that our little family of three could be happy again.

Until a few days ago.

I went to the sanatorium to visit Mama, the orphanage director. Passing a small amusement park on the way, I saw them.

Alessia was holding Nico, laughing as they rode the carousel. Dante filmed them, eyes full of tenderness.

Nico planted a chubby kiss on Alessia's cheek and babbled, "Mommy's so nice! I love Mommy the most!"

At that moment, they looked like a happy family.

I stood behind a tree, frozen as if plunged into an ice cave.

The son I had risked everything to bring into the world was calling that interloper "Mommy."

I returned home in a daze, numb, barely able to function. That evening, when the driver brought Nico back, I reached for him. He recoiled in disgust.

"Mommy, you smell like medicine—it's gross! Mama Alessia smells nice. I wish she were my mommy!"

I had blamed myself before, thinking I was a bad mother for not taking him out like other moms. But now I understood—it wasn't my fault. He was comparing me to Alessia. In his heart, I didn't measure up.

Realizing this, my chest felt as if it had been ripped apart. I crouched down, staring at him.

"Nico… I'm your real mother! I carried you for nine months and gave birth to you!"

He looked at me with disgust.

"I don't like you! Daddy said you only boss me around. Mama Alessia is the one who really loves me! I want Mama Alessia to be my new mommy!"

Even seeing Dante's affair with my own eyes had never crushed me like this.

This was the child I had given my life for.

I studied his small face, so much like Dante's, and forced a bitter smile.

"Fine. If you don't want me as your mommy, then I won't be your mommy anymore."

I turned and walked into the bathroom, letting cold water wash my tears away.

That night, I ran a high fever. In a haze, I heard Enzo's frantic voice calling Dante, "Don Conti, Madre's fever is severe! Please come back quickly!"

But on the other end was Alessia's coquettish voice, "Dante, hurry! I can't wait any longer…"

Then came Dante's impatient roar, "Bianca is acting again? She got a taste last time and got addicted? Fine, let her act! When she actually dies, then you can call me!"

He hung up and shut off his phone.

That night, the family doctor rushed me to the emergency room—I almost didn't make it.

At dawn, Dante returned to change clothes, fresh lipstick marks still on his neck. Noticing my gaze, he pressed his lips tight, fuming as he scolded me, "Bianca, do you think I'm a fool for repeatedly faking illness to make me come back? Playing these games only makes me despise you more! As punishment, your orphanage director's medicine… stops, for now."

Then he picked up his phone and called the sanatorium.

"No! Dante, you can't do this! Mama, the orphanage director, is relying on that targeted medicine to survive! If you stop it, she'll die!"

I ignored the searing pain in my hand and lunged, clutching his arm. Mama was the only person in this world who had ever truly loved me—I couldn't lose her.

Dante yanked his hand free. After instructing the sanatorium to halt the medication, he turned and walked away, leaving only my despair behind.

I forced my weak body to the family council hall, determined to plead with him again to resume Mama's treatment. But as soon as I entered, I froze.

Alessia was there, once more at the Conti estate, sitting audaciously in the seat to Dante's right—my seat.

That seat had not existed before. Dante had created it especially for me, a recognition of all I had done for the family.

"Bianca, I designed this seat so you could participate in family affairs. I wanted everyone to see how outstanding you are."

Now, another woman occupied it.

Dante noticed me faltering, and his eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and—briefly—concern.

Alessia shot him an annoyed glance, then leaned against his arm, pouting like a child. "Dante, don't be soft. Bianca scared me that day—I was terrified!"

Dante looked at me with a teasing glint. "Hear that? Beg me? Better beg her. If you can make Alessia forgive you, I'll restart the medication."

He leaned back in his chair, waiting.

I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles ached. Hesitating only a moment, I removed the ring that signified my role as the Madre and bowed to hand it to Alessia.

"I'm sorry… I was wrong. I don't want the Madre seat. I only ask that you forgive me."

Alessia looked at the ring, giggled, and wrapped her arms around Dante's neck, planting a kiss on his lips. Then, she spoke, "Are you apologizing, or blaming me? I wouldn't dare take your ring. How about this—crawl on the floor and bark like a dog a few times, then crawl to my feet and kowtow. Then I might forgive you. Deal?"

Dante touched her forehead affectionately and murmured, "You're naughty," implicitly approving.

In that moment, my heart died.

Tears streaming, I humbled myself, crawling on the floor, barking like a dog, then lowering my head at her feet, begging for forgiveness.

Dante finally frowned. "Enough. That's enough."

Alessia's smile faltered, as if she weren't entirely satisfied.

I muttered, "Thank you," and rose to leave.

Dante looked at me, a flicker of confusion in his gaze. Something about me had changed.

But I only thought about Mama, hoping she would be okay. That was all that mattered.

I was wrong.

On the way, the doctor called. Mama's condition had deteriorated rapidly after the medication was stopped. She had just passed away despite the rescue attempts.

I moved through the motions like a ghost, arranging Mama's funeral alone. I carried her ashes to the orphanage.

But what met my eyes was worse than death itself—a raging inferno.