Lila's voice drifted down the hallway.

"That sapphire necklace you gave her must have cost millions. All I asked for was a simple diamond ring, and you said no."

Vincenzo pushed her off his lap and sat up, lighting a cigarette.

"How dare you compare yourself to her? She's the woman I love with all my heart, my Donna. Know your place. I'm only doing this because Elena hasn't been able to get pregnant, and the family needs an heir."

Lila pouted and wrapped her arms around his neck, stamping her foot petulantly.

"I know. And besides, I'm more likely to get pregnant only when I'm in a good mood, you know?"

Vincenzo sighed, then reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a sapphire necklace exactly like the one he'd given me—same cut, same carat, just a slightly different chain.

"I bought you one too. But you can't wear it. If Elena finds out, she'll leave. And if she leaves, I'll go crazy."

Lila's face lit up. She kissed him greedily, her hands tangling in his hair.

"You really love her so much? Vincenzo?"

"Of course I love her." His voice dropped to a low, reverent tone, no trace of mockery.

"She's the most important woman in my life. My Donna will only ever be her. All these silly games I play with you? I'd never dare do them to her. It would be a desecration."

He pushed her back down onto the bed, and her moans echoed through the silent house.

I pressed my hand hard against my mouth, biting down until I tasted blood, to muffle my sobs.

Our wedding photo hung on the wall right beside me.

In it, Vincenzo was smiling, his arms wrapped around me, looking like the happiest man alive. It was a lie. Everything had been a lie.

Three more days, and I'm gone.

I woke up the next morning to find Vincenzo in the living room, hosting a business associate.

We were all sipping coffee when the front door slammed open.

The associate's wife stormed in, her face contorted with rage, and slapped him hard across the face.

"You bastard! You've been cheating on me with your secretary for six months! I quit my job to take care of our family, and this is how you repay me?"

The man turned bright red, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

"Shut the fuck up! All men cheat. It's just how it is. Get over it."

Vincenzo's face turned ice cold.

He stepped forward, yanking the man's hand off his wife and shoving him backward.

"Get out of my house. And don't ever show your face around me again. I don't do business with men who betray their wives."

He watched the man stumble out, then turned to me, his expression softening instantly.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

"Don't listen to that garbage, amore. He's a worthless piece of shit. Not all men are like that. I would never hurt you like that. You're the only one for me, always."

I looked up into his dark eyes.

He stilled for a heartbeat, then cupped my face in his hands.

"I will only ever love you. I would never betray you. Never."

I searched his face, looking for any hint of the truth. But there was nothing.

"You'll love me for a lifetime?"I whispered."But a lifetime is so long."

He pulled me close, pressing his forehead against mine.

"It is. But my life means nothing without you. You're my everything."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"What if you do betray me? What then?"

"If I ever betray you," he swore, "may a bullet find my heart before the sun sets. I swear it on my father's grave."

The vow was almost funny.

His skin still reeked of jasmine. His sheets were stained with Lila's lipstick. And yet he could stand here and swear his loyalty like he meant every single word.

"You really mean that?"

"I swear it. No one in this world knows how deep my love for you runs. If you don't believe me, take my gun right now and put a bullet in my heart."

I stared at him, thinking, If you're so willing to give me your life, why can't you just control yourself?

Before I could say anything, a voice cut in from the doorway.

"Good morning, you two."

Lila was standing there, wearing a tight black silk dress that left nothing to the imagination.

She leaned lazily against the doorframe, a slow smile playing on her lips.

Vincenzo's arms tightened around me, his jaw clenching.

"Why are you dressed like that? Where the hell are you going?"

It wasn't the voice of a man looking out for his dead friend's sister. It was the voice of a man who thought he owned her.

Lila's smile widened.

"There's a charity luncheon at the Ritz today. I thought I'd go find myself a nice boyfriend. That way, you don't have to worry about me anymore."

Vincenzo's eyes darkened with possessive rage, but Lila just turned to me.

"What about you, Elena? Any plans for today?"

Vincenzo didn't let me answer. His fingers laced through mine, squeezing so tight it hurt.

"Elena and I are going to the Il Nonno’s for Sunday lunch. She's been asking for us nonstop. The whole family will be there."

She gave a polite little nod, said goodbye, and walked away, leaving behind that faint, sickening scent of jasmine.

And Vincenzo? He still hadn't let go of my hand.

Thirty minutes later, the armored Mercedes pulled up to the iron gates of Il Nonno’s—the Moretti family’s oldest front.

Vincenzo’s parents had never accepted me.

To them, I was nothing but a street rat with a paintbrush who’d tricked their golden boy into a morganatic marriage.

Only Don Salvatore, his grandfather, had ever looked at me as anything more than a liability.

They’d never forgiven me for failing to give them a male heir to run the rackets, and after three years of marriage with no pregnancy, their contempt curdled into something venomous.

Every Sunday lunch felt like walking into a room full of loaded guns, all pointed at me.

This time, his mother had called at dawn. She said it was family business. I had no choice but to show up.

We stepped into the dimly lit dining room.

His parents were sitting at the head table, sipping espresso. The second their eyes landed on me, their forced smiles dropped.

I kept my gaze fixed on the tablecloth, but Vincenzo noticed. His hand tightened around mine.

“If you two keep treating my wife like garbage, we won’t be coming back. Ever.”

The room went dead silent.

His father slammed his espresso cup so hard against the marble tabletop it shattered.The waiters scrambled to clean up the mess without making a sound.

“Watch your mouth, boy!” he snarled. “Are you really going to turn your back on your own blood for this whore?”

Vincenzo pulled me closer, his jaw clenched.

“Elena is the only woman I’ll ever love. The only person in this world who matters to me. If you can’t respect that, you can keep your damn empire. I don’t want it.”

The mafia boss who could order a hit with a flick of his wrist sounded like a devoted husband willing to burn everything down for me.

It was almost convincing.

After a long, tense silence, his mother sighed,

“Fine.”

Lunch passed in a suffocating quiet.

His mother kept shooting me disgusted glances, and I gripped my fork so tight my knuckles turned white.

I knew what was coming.

She dropped her fork with a clatter.

“Enough waiting. It’s been three years. The Moretti bloodline can’t die with you.”

“Get pregnant.Give us a son.”

The words sliced through me like a switchblade, but before I could speak, Vincenzo set his fork down.

“I told you both.I won’t force her to have a child right now. If we never have a kid, so be it.”

Their faces twisted with rage. Just as they were about to explode, I spoke, my voice steady and calm.

“You’ll have your grandson.”

The room froze. Three pairs of eyes snapped to me.

Vincenzo squeezed my hand, his face painted with that fake, sickening concern.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this. I don’t care about an heir. I only care about you.”

I almost laughed. Care about me? He couldn't even stay faithful long enough to finish a family dinner.

I smiled anyway.

“You want a grandson so badly. Let’s make it happen.”

Their faces softened instantly, greedy and pleased. But Vincenzo looked uneasy, like he could sense the trap but couldn’t see the wire.

Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and I caught the name: Lila.

Vincenzo, the charity luncheon is a mess. I need you here now to go over it.

He stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“Elena, I have to run back to the house to handle some business. Stay and finish lunch. I’ll send a car for you later.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer. He just walked out the door.

The second the door shut, all pretense vanished.

“You have two months,” his mother hissed. “If you’re not pregnant by then, don’t ever show your face here again. We’ll throw you out on the street.”

And Vincenzo? He never came back.

He finally showed up at seven that evening, calm and relaxed.

We got into the car, and I stared out the window.

“Everything okay?” I asked lightly.

He hesitated for a split second, then nodded.

“Yeah. It was nothing major.”

The silence stretched for minutes.

Then he said, “Did my parents give you a hard time after I left?”

I was about to answer when my eyes fell on the floor between the seats. A single pearl earring. Not mine. I’d seen it before—on Lila’s ear.

So that's where he'd been. Not going over contracts. Sleeping with her in the backseat of our car.

Three years of marriage. I’d always been quiet, reserved.

Once, I’d asked him if he found me boring. If he wanted me to be more like the other mob wives.

He’d held me close, kissing the top of my head.

“Baby, I don’t want other women. I want you. Don’t ever change for anyone.”

But the man who’d said those words now reeked of jasmine and lies.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What do you think?”

He thought I was talking about his parents. He had no idea I’d already seen through every single one of his lies.

He slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the road. He pulled me into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Elena. I shouldn’t have left you alone with them. I promise it’ll never happen again.”

His embrace felt like a cage. I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him away gently.

“Just drive, Vincenzo. I’m tired.”

I stared out the window at the passing streetlights, the pearl earring burning a hole in my pocket.

One more day, and I'd be gone.

And this time, I'd leave forever.

The armored gates clanged shut behind me, and I froze in the marble foyer. Lila was draped over the baby grand piano in the drawing room, wearing nothing but a sheer white silk slip.

"I thought you were at the Ritz charity luncheon," I said, my voice flat. "Said you were going to find yourself a proper boyfriend."

She twirled a grape between her manicured fingers, a lazy smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, I did go. Met the most charming man there. So powerful, so possessive... we left before the first course was even served."

Her eyes locked onto mine, triumphant, like this was some twisted game she'd already won.

"He got so jealous when another man looked at me," she purred.

"We spent three hours in his car in the parking garage. He couldn't keep his hands off me."

My nails dug into my palms until I tasted blood.

"When did this start? You never mentioned him before."

She laughed, a sharp, bitter sound.

"Ten months ago. The day my brother's body was brought home. Vincenzo introduced us. Said he was the only man who could protect me."

Ten months. Exactly when the late nights at the"warehouse"began.

A cold rage settled in my bones. Then I felt Vincenzo's hands on my shoulders, heavy and warm.

"You've had a brutal day, amore," he said, like he hadn't just spent the afternoon sleeping with another woman in our car.

"Let me draw you a bath. You need to rest."

I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning against it until my knees stopped shaking. I'd just stripped off my clothes when I realized I'd left my robe on the bed.

I cracked the door open. And the world stopped.

Ten feet away, Vincenzo had Lila bent over the piano keys.

His fist was tangled in her hair, yanking her head back, while his other hand dug into her hip hard enough to bruise.

"Slow down," she gasped.

"Elena's still in the shower. Didn't you get enough earlier?"

He growled, low and dangerous.

"Shut your mouth. If I ever see another man look at you, I'll feed them to the dogs. Do you understand?"

She giggled, and her eyes slid directly to me, standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Anything you say, baby,"she purred, loud enough for me to hear every word."I'm all yours. Your jealousy drives me crazy."

I slammed the door shut and turned the lock. The scalding water poured over me, but it didn't burn half as bad as the memory of our honeymoon in St. Barts.

I'd smiled at a bartender who'd handed me a cocktail. Vincenzo had dragged me back to the villa and locked me inside for three days. I later found out the bartender had been found floating in the harbor with a bullet in his head.

"Elena, you're mine,"he'd whispered, holding me so tight I couldn't breathe."No one else gets to look at you. No one else gets to touch you. Promise me you'll never leave."

I'd promised. I'd been faithful to a fault. But now his obsession had shifted. It was no longer me he wanted to possess. It was her.

When I finally emerged, Lila was gone.

Vincenzo was sitting on the bed, a plate of sliced strawberries and a glass of warm milk on the nightstand. The sight made my stomach turn.

"I know your stomach's been upset,"he said, handing me the glass."This will help you sleep."

The warmth seeped into my hands, but I felt ice cold inside. How could he act so normal?

Minutes ago, he'd been bedding another woman on the piano where I'd played my favorite Chopin nocturnes for him.

I didn't sleep a wink that night. Sometime before dawn, I must have drifted off, because a scream jolted me awake.

"ELENA!"

Vincenzo was sitting bolt upright, his hands scrambling in the dark until they found me. He pulled me against his chest, his heart hammering against my back.

"Don't leave me,"he gasped, his voice raw."Please. I dreamed you walked away, and I couldn't find you. It was hell."

I stared at the wall, silent.

His nightmare was going to come true. I'd be on a plane to New Zealand, and he'd never see me again.

Whatever had spooked him, it made him cling tighter.

The next morning, he refused to let me out of his sight. He drove me to the gallery, then dragged me to his shipping port headquarters, where crates of smuggled cigarettes and weapons sat stacked to the ceiling.

His office took my breath away.

Every wall was covered in my paintings. Every sketch, every watercolor, every half-finished canvas I'd ever thrown away. He'd tracked them all down, framed them in gold, and hung them like trophies.

A chill ran down my spine.

"Women throw themselves at me every day," he murmured, pressing his lips to my neck. "But when I look at these, I remember who I belong to. You have nothing to worry about. I'm all yours."

I said nothing. A knock came at the door. Enzo's voice:"Boss, the Irish mob's here. They're ready to talk."

Vincenzo sighed, holding me a moment longer."Stay here. I'll be back in an hour."

I wandered the warehouse floors, counting the minutes until I could escape. At noon, my phone buzzed.

"Mrs. Moretti,"the consulate officer said."Your residency visa is ready. You can pick it up any time this afternoon."

I opened my mouth to answer.

Then a cold, sharp voice cut in from behind me.

"Visa?"

My blood turned to ice.