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."

"Back in my day, a filthy little whore like her would have been weighted and dropped in the river," Dominic's mother spat, her eyes brimming with contempt. "She's nothing compared to a girl of clean blood like you, Adriana."

She took Adriana's hands in hers, a sickeningly fond smile stretching across her face. The old widow of the Falcone line turned the dead Don's wedding band slowly around her own finger, and the whole room seemed to lean toward her. "It's decided then. Dominic isn't getting any younger, and today, I will make the decision. He will marry you into the famiglia."

This wasn't the first time I had stood in the great hall of the Falcone estate as nothing more than Dominic's 'courier.'

Back then, he had told me he was afraid his mother would disapprove of where I came from and refuse to accept me into the blood. But he swore he had chosen me, that he would seal our union first, quietly, and slowly work on winning the matriarch over. I had believed him. I had waited. Seven years had passed and I was still waiting.

Now, his mother, having somehow learned that I had given birth to five stillborn babies, regarded me with nothing but scorn. In her eyes, I was a promiscuous woman, a stain on the Family name that no amount of tribute could wash clean.

"A whore like her doesn't deserve to breathe another second under this roof. Dominic, get rid of her."

There was a time when Dominic would have defended me, even if only half-heartedly. But now, with Adriana gleaming under the great chandeliers, there was no space left for me in his gaze. The soldiers along the walls kept their eyes forward, their faces carved from stone. No one in that hall would meet my eyes.

Feigning reluctance, he sighed. "Alright. Since I'm crossing the sea on Family business the day after tomorrow, I'll take Adriana with me. We can hold the wedding there."

Not a moment's hesitation.

Adriana feigned shyness. Her fingers rose to touch the pendant at her throat. "But I haven't even tried on my wedding dress or picked out my ring yet."

As if on cue, the tall doors opened, and an array of twenty-three custom wedding gowns was wheeled into the hall, each cut by the great masters of the fashion houses, booked years in advance.

Each dress had a matching diamond ring, glistening like caged stars. One in particular, a pink diamond, I recognized from an auction I'd read of last month. It had gone for two hundred million.

These weren't last-minute arrangements. These had been prepared for a long time. Adriana gasped in delight, throwing her arms around Dominic. "Oh my God, they're all in my size! And twenty-three... the year we met! Dominic, you were thinking of me even back then, weren't you?"

She pouted playfully, and he only smiled, eyes brimming with indulgence.

I looked down at my own plain silver ring, the one he had given me the day he made his promise. It was too small, cutting into my skin every time I moved my finger. I had tried to take it off before, but I never could. And yet, those diamond rings, each an exact fit for Adriana, meant that he had never forgotten her size. It wasn't carelessness. It wasn't forgetfulness. He had never truly seen me at all.

Standing beside them, I felt like the punchline to a cruel joke. I turned on my heel and hurried toward the washroom. Splashing ice-cold water onto my face, I tried to wash away the tears that wouldn't stop falling. But no amount of water could cleanse the ache searing my chest. My thumb found the stump where my smallest finger should have been, and I pressed it hard against my palm until the room stopped swimming.

As I stepped out, I collided into a warm embrace. Dominic.

He pressed a delicate bottle of perfume into my hands, his voice soft with feigned tenderness. "Are you jealous? Today is my mother's feast day. I couldn't refuse her, not in front of the whole Family. Agreeing to marry Adriana is just for show. Those dresses and rings? They're only to please her."

His fingers brushed against my cheek. "Once I'm across the sea, I'll explain everything to her. You and I... we're the real ones. We have the pact. Our blood is sworn."

His voice dipped lower, coaxing, cajoling. "Gemma, I promise you, after this month, I'll tell my mother the truth. I'll bring our union into the open, before every made man in this house. I'll give you the wedding you deserve."

He lifted the perfume bottle with a smirk. "I know how much you love these. This one was difficult to get, a brand-new creation from the top perfumer abroad. See how much I love you?"

I gripped the bottle, my fingers tightening around the glass. How laughable.

This perfume was one of the wedding favors prepared for his ceremony with Adriana. He had summoned thousands to celebrate their union, each guest to leave with this very same bottle as a token of their love. And now he had the audacity to press it into my hands, spinning another lie, thinking I would believe it. My fingers curled around the cold glass, my knuckles white.

I smiled. "Thank you, Dominic."

And in my heart, I vowed. This would be the last time he would ever deceive me.