Without warning, he threw the box at me.

It struck my forehead hard, sending a sharp pain through my head. I groaned softly, instinctively raising my hand to cover the spot as tears welled up in my eyes.

Dante seemed startled for a moment. "I didn't mean to do that," he said quickly. "Let me see."

I pulled away from him, avoiding his touch. "I'm fine," I muttered.

Ignoring my words, he reached out again, prying my hand away to inspect the injury. When he saw the swelling forming, his face darkened.

"This doesn't look fine," he said. "Stay here. I'll get some ice."

Before he could move, his phone rang.

The screen lit up with a contact name that felt like a slap in itself: "Little Trouble." The name was filled with affection, intimate and unmistakable. The kind of name a man only gives a woman he lets close enough to be careless with him. In this world, that kind of closeness was its own currency.

"Dante!" Viviana's voice came through immediately.

The moment he heard her voice, especially the faint sound of her whimpering, his entire demeanor changed. He tensed, concern evident in his expression. The Don of the Moretti Family, a man who made rooms go quiet when he entered them, shifted his weight toward a phone like a soldier answering a summons.

"Viv, don't cry," he said quickly. "What's wrong?"

"I have a stomachache," she sniffled softly. "I want to go to the clinic, but I got turned around near the waterfront. I don't even know where I am…"

Dante frowned deeply. "Why didn't you call me when you decided to go? We agreed I'd have a car sent for you."

Her voice became even softer, more fragile. "I messed up again today and made Serena upset. I didn't want to bother you both…"

His tone immediately turned serious. "Viv, you're carrying a child. Nothing is more important than that."

"Send me your location. I'm coming to get you."

"No, Dante," she protested weakly. "I can get there on my own. And tonight is Serena's… you should stay with her…"

Dante chuckled lightly, almost amused. "Silly girl. One more night with her won't magically produce an heir."

"You're what matters right now. Send me your location."

He hung up and looked at me with visible impatience. "Did you hear that? Viv is worried about you, and all you do is act paranoid."

"I'm going to take her to the clinic," he added. "I'll grab some ice packs for you on the way back."

He picked up the keys to the Maserati, ready to leave without another thought. The soldier posted outside the hallway shifted at the sound of movement, waiting for a signal.

"Dante, wait," I called out.

He turned around sharply, irritation clear on his face. "Serena, can you stop this?"

"This is about two lives, hers and the baby's," he said. "Don't turn it into another jealous tantrum."

I didn't bother arguing anymore. Instead, I walked quietly to the coat closet and took out the jacket he had worn a few days ago.

From the inside pocket, I pulled out a card and held it out to him. "Viviana's clinic card. You'll need it."

Viviana never handled her own visits to the discreet family clinic. Dante always kept her card with him, right beside the estate receipts and the fold of emergency cash he carried for the Family's private physician.

For a moment, he looked surprised. Then he reached out and took it from me. "Thanks."

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more.

But I didn't give him the chance. "Drive safe," I said calmly.

I reached up and adjusted his collar, just like I always did whenever he left the house. The gesture was familiar, almost instinctive. My fingers brushed the lapel of his overcoat the way they had a thousand times before, straightening what didn't need straightening.

But deep down, I knew this would be the last time.

For a brief moment, his expression softened, as if something inside him had shifted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer into his arms.

"I'll be back soon," he said quietly. "Wait for me."

I didn't wait.

After sending a brief message to Lydia Carbone to begin the separation process, I put my phone aside and went to bed earlier than usual. My fingers drifted once to the fine chain at my throat, then fell away. I didn't feel like thinking anymore, didn't want to dwell on anything that had already been decided.

In the middle of the night, the vibration of my phone pulled me out of sleep. The room was dark and quiet, and when I glanced at the time, it was already 1 a.m. As expected, the other side of the bed was still empty, cold and untouched.

I reached for my phone and unlocked it. Several new messages had come in. They were all from Viviana.

[Dante is just so hot!]

[I wanna eat him up while he's sleeping!]

There was also a photo attached.

In the picture, Dante was asleep, his head resting on a soft pink cartoon pillow. His hair was slightly messy, his expression relaxed, his lips parted just enough in a way that used to make my heart skip a beat without me even realizing it.

For a moment, I simply stared at the image, my emotions strangely distant.

When the "typing…" indicator appeared at the top of the chat, Viviana reacted quickly. She deleted the messages almost immediately, as if trying to erase the evidence.

Then she sent a playful emoji of a cat begging for forgiveness.

[Oops! I meant to send those to my bestie, but accidentally sent them to you.]

[I was just joking around, don't be mad! Dante's already asleep anyway.]

I knew exactly what she expected. She probably thought I would lose control, that I would call her in anger like I used to, demanding explanations, making a scene.

But this time, I didn't feel the urge to react at all.

Without replying, I simply blocked her. Then I put my phone down and went back to sleep as if nothing had happened.

Whether she was pretending or being serious didn't matter anymore. It had nothing to do with me now.

The next morning, they arrived at the counting house together.

Viviana, still playing her usual role of being fragile and delicate, suddenly stumbled as she walked, her steps unsteady as if she might fall at any moment. Her face turned pale, her expression filled with exaggerated fear.

Without hesitation, Dante rushed forward, scooping her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. He carried her straight into his office, his concern obvious and unhidden.

Viviana blushed slightly, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned into him. But as she passed by me, she turned her head just enough to shoot me a smug, triumphant smile.

One of the other associates leaned closer to me, lowering her voice as she whispered, "Can you believe her?"

"She doesn't even know how to run a basic ledger, let alone handle real Family business. How has she been the Don's personal courier for half a year?"

She paused before adding carefully, "Do you think… he's actually into her?"

I was busy replying to messages from Lydia Carbone, my attention mostly elsewhere. Without thinking too much, I simply nodded and said, "Maybe."

The word had barely left my lips when I heard Dante's voice behind me.

"Serena, come with me."

I turned around and found him standing right there, his expression cold and distant, his gaze unreadable.

No one in the counting house knew that we were married. Dante had always insisted on keeping the union invisible inside the operation, separating blood from business in the eyes of anyone beneath capo rank.

So to everyone else, I was just another trusted keeper of the books, nothing more.

At work, he always kept his distance from me, as if we were complete strangers.

I remembered once having a high fever, so bad that I could barely stand. I had gone to him, hoping he would at least take me to the clinic.

But he had brushed me off coldly, worried about how it would look to the others. He told me to go home and rest instead.

Yet when Viviana merely complained about a slight stomachache, he would cancel sit-downs without hesitation and personally drive her to the discreet clinic on Mulberry.

I followed him into his office at the back of the social club, watching silently as he gently told Viviana to go rest in the private room behind the bar. His voice softened in a way I had rarely heard directed at me.

Once the door closed and we were alone, he walked over and grabbed my hand. His voice dropped, quieter now. "Still mad?"

I pulled my hand away, my tone calm but distant. "I told you, I'm not mad."

He frowned slightly, placing both hands on my shoulders. His gaze locked onto mine, searching for something. "Don't lie to me."

"I didn't come home last night, and you didn't even call or text," he said. "And you expect me to believe you're not upset?"

I looked at him, confused for a moment. "Viviana was with you, wasn't she?" I replied evenly. "She's your courier. She'd take care of you."

His expression darkened immediately, his grip tightening on my shoulders.

The pressure made me wince, and I instinctively tried to pull away. In the struggle, he pushed me onto the leather couch against the wall.

As I steadied myself, my hand brushed against something soft. I frowned slightly, reaching down to grab it.

When I pulled it out, I saw a pink lace bra tangled between the cushions.

The moment Dante saw it, the anger on his face vanished, replaced by something else. "That's…" he started, clearly trying to explain.

But I didn't care enough to listen.

I tossed the bra back onto the couch casually, my voice flat. "If there's nothing else, I'll be going, Mr. Moretti."

After hours, I had a sit-down scheduled with an outside associate. As I stepped out of the club onto the narrow sidewalk, a familiar black sedan pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing Dante behind the wheel. "Get in," he said. "We'll drop Viv off first, then head to that seafood place by the waterfront."

Viviana leaned out slightly from the passenger seat, smiling brightly. "Sorry, Serena! I'm hitching a ride again!"

I was busy trying to flag down a cab, my attention elsewhere. Without even looking at her, I replied calmly, "You two go ahead. I'm allergic to seafood."

Dante's face darkened instantly. He knew that wasn't true. In fact, that place had always been one of my favorites.

He opened his mouth, clearly about to argue or question me.

But I didn't give him the chance.

I walked past his car without hesitation and got into a cab waiting across the street, leaving them behind without a second glance.

What I didn't expect was for Dante and Viviana to follow me all the way to the restaurant.

I had only come here for business, planning to meet my associate and keep everything strictly professional. But before Matteo Ricci even arrived, the two of them walked in together and casually sat down across from me, as if this were their table too.

For a moment, I just stared at them, unable to hide my disbelief. Then I took a slow breath and cut straight to the point. "I'm meeting Mr. Ricci from the gem trade," I said calmly, making it clear that they didn't belong here.

Dante simply raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair as if amused. "Did Mr. Ricci say he didn't want to see me?" he asked lightly, his tone carrying a hint of challenge.

I fell silent. There was no point arguing. No matter what, he was still the Don, and in front of an outside associate, I couldn't afford to create a scene.

When Matteo Ricci finally arrived, the atmosphere shifted slightly. During the meal, he casually instructed his man to open a bottle of expensive wine, the rich aroma filling the air as it was poured into glasses.