In the seven years of my hidden blood-union, I had conceived five children. Each one was stillborn.

Dominic Falcone seemed heartbroken over my condition and brought in the Family's own physician to watch my diet, sparing no tribute. He reassured me, time and time again, that we would eventually have a healthy child together.

The day I found out I was pregnant again, my heart overflowed with joy. I went to share the good news with Dominic, eager to see his face when he heard it. Instead, I overheard him and his oldest confidant, Marco Rizzo, through the half-open door of a private room at the back of the social club.

"You killed Gemma Vaccaro's five children just to give Adriana Colombo specimens for her experiments? Are you insane? Those were your own blood."

Dominic's voice stayed level, cold as marble, as though the matter had nothing to do with him at all.

"Adriana lives for that research. I know nothing about medicine. The most I can do is stand behind her and give her whatever she needs."

Marco's voice carried disbelief, and under it, a low fury. "But those were your own children. How could you be so cruel?"

Dominic only laughed, quiet and unbothered. "Does it matter? The pact between Gemma and me is a forgery. Nothing in it was ever sanctioned by my line. Any child she bore would be nameless, unacknowledged, unwanted. What does it matter whether they lived or died? My wife can only be Adriana."

In that moment, everything I had believed in shattered. The union I had cherished was nothing but a fraud drawn up on false paper. The man I had loved with my whole heart was nothing more than a monster wearing a man's skin. And since this was the truth, there was no longer any need for illusions.

——

Marco's voice was heavy. "If Adriana is the only one you love, why did you ever bind Gemma to you? Why let her carry your children?"

Dominic's mouth curved. "Because Adriana wanted to study across the sea. And I am a man like any other, with certain needs. Gemma was untouched when I took her, pure, easy to draw into a hidden pact. And keeping her close meant she wouldn't wander off and bring back some filth I didn't want."

He paused, then went on with a chilling ease. "As for the children, I don't like taking precautions, and she was so desperate to be a mother. I thought, why not let her have them, for something to do? I never intended to let a single one draw breath."

Marco's face darkened. "But you let her live in blissful ignorance for seven whole years. You let her carry and lose five children. And now you throw her away as if she never mattered. Gemma loves you to the bone, Dominic. Do you really think she survives this?"

Dominic waved him off, impatient. "Enough. She was a poor country girl who got lucky, living in silk because of me. I gave her more than she could ever have dreamed."

Then, almost pleased with himself, he added, "Three days from now, Adriana and I sail for our wedding across the sea. See that you come. Drink to our happiness."

Marco let out a long breath. "Dominic, don't blame me for saying it. A man who wounds the one who truly loves him, one day you'll regret it."

Dominic scoffed. "As long as I marry Adriana in grand style, I won't regret a damn thing, not if it kills me. Keep your sentiment to yourself."

Marco shook his head, worn out. There was nothing left to say.

The joy that had filled my heart only moments before evaporated, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. I stood frozen where I was, my body cold as ice, my thumb pressing the stump of my missing pinky into my palm until it hurt, the way another woman might grip a rosary. Then Dominic turned and saw me. My tear-streaked face seemed to startle him. Panic flashed through his eyes, and he crossed the room toward me.

"Gemma. When did you come? Why are you crying like this?"

His voice held traces of concern, even heartbreak.

I wiped my tears quickly and forced a smile. "It's nothing. My lashes weren't set right and one got into my eye. I'm hopeless with any of it."

Dominic let out a relieved breath and pulled me into his arms. He stroked my hair, gentle, and murmured, "Seeing you cry breaks my heart. Don't wear those things anymore, all right? My wife is already the most beautiful woman in the world. Come now. Let's go home."

His words were sweet as ever, thick with tenderness. But they no longer held any warmth for me.

Once, I had adored him, trusted him. When I first came under the Falcone name, still green, I had been humiliated and pushed around by men above me in the ranks. It was Dominic who had come like a hero, standing between me and them, making me feel safe. But now I knew the truth. The man I loved was nothing more than a cold-blooded executioner. And I was nothing more than a fool who had loved him blindly.

He once told me that he would always be my shelter, my protector against the storms of life. That he would guard me for the rest of my days. I believed him. I gave him my body, my heart, my soul. When he asked for a hidden blood-union, one recorded in a falsified Family pact and never sanctioned by his line, I agreed without hesitation. He feared that binding his name to a woman born of nothing would weaken the Falcone standing among the five families.

Every time I found out I was pregnant, Dominic would light up like a child, shouting with excitement that he was going to be a father. He would hold me in his arms, his joy infectious. Afraid that I would suffer, he personally instructed the Family physician to use deep anesthesia, ensuring I wouldn't feel any pain. And every time, he stayed by my side, watching over me as if I were his most precious treasure.

I thought he cared about me. I thought he cared about our baby. But in reality, he was merely making it easier for himself to strangle our child with his own hands, to provide a specimen for his beloved. And I, foolishly, blamed myself. I thought my body was too weak, too incapable of carrying a child to term. I grieved over every stillborn, burdened with guilt, apologizing to him for my failures. Looking back now, I was nothing but a joke.

That night, after returning to the estate, I waited for Dominic to step into the shower. I made the arrangement to end the pregnancy. And I bought passage across the water. Three days from now, I would be gone. When he emerged, his hair still damp, he spoke casually, as if it were of little importance.

"Honey, I'm going overseas in three days. Family business. I'll be tied up for over a month."

A month. Just enough time for his arranged alliance marriage. And his honeymoon. I looked up at him and asked softly, "Dominic, I haven't been feeling well lately. Can you stay? I'd like you to spend more time with me."

His brows furrowed instantly, his voice turning cold. "Honey, we've been together for years. You know how I am. I don't let a woman put herself between me and the work. Be good and wait for me at home. I'll bring you something back when I return."

My last shred of hope crumbled. I lowered my gaze, swallowing my disappointment. Beneath the sheets I pressed the stump of my missing pinky hard against my palm, the way other women reach for a rosary. "You're right. I was being selfish. Go ahead."

Satisfied, Dominic's expression softened. He pushed me down onto the bed, his breath laced with the scent of aged wine as he murmured into my ear.

"Honey, the physician says your body has recovered well. Why don't we make a baby tonight? I really want to watch our child grow up with you."

A wave of bitter irony washed over me. I gently pushed him away. "Not tonight. You've been drinking. It could harm the baby's health."

Knowing how much I cared about this, Dominic didn't suspect a thing. He kissed my forehead before drifting off to sleep. As his breathing steadied, I quietly reached for his jacket. That was when I discovered it. A second phone. One I had never seen before.

My heart pounded as I pressed the power button. The lock screen made my stomach churn. A picture of Dominic and Adriana. Kissing. I tried a password. Adriana's birthday. The screen unlocked. I tapped on their messages. The first thing I saw sent my blood running cold. A photo of one of my stillborn children.

Dominic's message read:

[Adriana, I got the specimen for you. It'll come by chopper this afternoon. Fresh. It won't touch your research data.]

Another message:

[You ran through the last one already? Don't worry. Gemma is carrying again. I'll find a way to bring the labor on early. You'll have a new one soon. My girl works harder than any man in this Family. She's going to be a great doctor one day.]

And another:

[Adriana, when do you come home to Brooklyn? I've kept my wife's place open for you. Gemma is just something to take the edge off.]

My hands trembled as I touched my stomach, tears spilling down my cheeks. This child... should never have come into this world.

I continued scrolling.

Albums filled with pictures of them, together from childhood to now. Tens of thousands of photos, each one captioned with a different love note. Seven years of my hidden blood-union, and he had spent most of it away on "Family business," all of them just excuses to be at her side.

My breath hitched when I checked his saved files. More than a hundred versions of wedding plans. Every detail, large and small, meticulously arranged. All personally planned by Dominic. For her.

Each version of the wedding plan was incomparably luxurious, laid out like offerings, so that Adriana might choose her favorite.

For every feast day, every saint's day, every small occasion the calendar allowed, Dominic prepared exquisite and expensive tribute for Adriana. No matter how deep the Family's business ran, no matter how many men waited on his word, he crossed an ocean himself to place each gift in her hands.

And me? I only deserved the leftovers. I still remembered the night we sealed our blood-union. Dominic didn't give me a single flower. That evening, as the car slowed past a florist near the old quarter, I gazed at the colorful bouquets behind the glass, my heart filled with silent longing. Noticing my expectant eyes, he merely said in an indifferent tone, "Flowers are for little girls. You're not that childish, are you, Honey?"

Yet, for Adriana, he bought an entire estate across the sea and planted a vast garden filled with rare and exotic blooms, only because she loved them.

Looking at the photos of them kissing amid that sea of flowers, I suddenly laughed. Then I burst into tears. I pressed the stump of my missing pinky hard against my palm until the shaking stopped, took a deep breath, and photographed everything. The wedding plans. The tribute. The messages. The garden. And then I found it. The falsified Family pact. At the time, Dominic told me he didn't want me troubled with the formalities, so he arranged for the man who kept such records to come to our home and put his seal to the union.

Turns out, they were just actors. Hired mouths reading from a page. I tore the pact in half and let the pieces fall into the trash. I returned to the bed and stared at Dominic's sleeping face, so calm, so handsome. Once, this sight had filled my heart with warmth. Now it only made me sick. A night of silent sorrow left me sleepless.

The next morning, as always, Dominic had the Family's kitchen prepare an elaborate breakfast for me, plated the way one plates something precious. In the past I was always moved by such care, believing he truly cherished me. But after those messages, I understood it was all just an act, staged by a man who never wasted a gesture.

Every carefully planned, nourishing meal I ate, Adriana had already tasted first. The only difference? Hers came from Dominic's own hands. Thinking of it, a wave of nausea crashed over me. I barely made it to the sink before dry-heaving. Dominic crossed the room and reached me in an instant, his hands gently supporting me.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

A glimmer of something eager flashed in his eyes.

"Are you… carrying again?"

I caught the look on his face and inwardly sneered. Why are you so pleased? Are you only waiting to use this child to please your sweetheart once more?

I wiped my mouth and forced a weak smile. "No. You know my body's weak. After losing those babies, I can barely conceive anymore."

Dominic cupped my face, his voice laced with gentle reassurance. "Gemma, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. I don't hold it against you. Just focus on getting well, and I promise, one day we'll have a healthy child."

He smoothed my hair, his tone turning lighter. "Don't be sad, alright? Today is my mother's Feast Day. Sixty years, and half the Family is coming to honor her. We're expected, my love."

Then his voice shifted, just slightly. "But… since our union is still hidden, even my mother knows nothing of it. So if anyone asks who you are…"

I already knew what he meant to say. I cut him off with a faint smile. "I understand. I'll say I'm your courier."

His face settled into satisfaction. "I knew you'd understand, Honey."

When we arrived at the hotel, the first thing I saw was Adriana clinging to my mother-in-law's arm like a doted-on child. She wore a gown that cost more than most soldiers saw in a year, and she pressed two fingers to the old woman's wrist as if reading her pulse, saying playfully, "Zia, you have the strongest heart in this whole room. You'll live to be two hundred."

My mother-in-law beamed, delighted by the flattery. Smiling, she slid the jade bracelet from her own wrist and placed it into Adriana's hand.

"This came down through the Falcone line. It passes to the wife of the next Don."

Adriana turned to me, her smile layered with something buried underneath. Yet her words came out sweet and innocent. "Zia, this is far too precious. I couldn't possibly take it." Her smile held a half-second too long, and her fingers drifted to the pendant at her throat.

My mother-in-law laughed. "Oh, Dominic's brought his girl today. That's his future wife, isn't it? Perhaps she'll give the Family five grandsons one day. You should give it to her instead."

Her eyes finally found me. She looked me over, her gaze thick with open contempt as she took in my plain, understated dress.

"What girl? That's only Dominic's little courier. Family errands, nothing more."

Then her expression darkened into disgust. "Running loose, breeding without a sanctioned union, and not one but five stillborn? Hah. Truly, God has eyes."