Aurelia POV

Two days later, the courier found me at my new apartment.

It was a cramped, dingy box in a part of the city where the streetlights flickered and died, and the neighbors knew better than to ask questions. I had paid six months' rent in cash upfront.

The courier handed me a large envelope and left without a word.

Inside lay the divorce papers I had served Jacob. Or what was left of them. They had been fed through a shredder. The strips of paper were tangled together like macabre confetti at a funeral.

My phone buzzed.

It was a text from an unknown number. But I knew who it was.

Nice apartment, sis. Does it have hot water, or do you have to boil it on the stove?

Kaleigh.

I didn't reply.

Another buzz. A voice note.

I shouldn't have played it. I knew it would be poison. But my thumb hovered over the screen, driven by a sick compulsion, and I pressed play.

"He's in the shower right now," Kaleigh's voice purred, sickly sweet. "He says you were always so boring in bed. A convenient substitute until the real queen could take her throne. Don't worry about the baby. I've already picked out a nursery theme. Royal blue. Suitable for a Prince."

I felt the bile rise in my throat.

Then came the photo.

It was taken in the master bedroom of the estate. My bedroom. Kaleigh was sprawled in my bed, wearing one of Jacob's dress shirts. She was smiling, holding a pregnancy test that was clearly negative, but the caption read: Practice makes perfect.

In the background, blurred but unmistakable, was Jacob. He was asleep.

He looked peaceful.

He never looked peaceful with me. Never. With me, he was always watching, calculating, assessing his investment.

I dropped the phone on the peeling laminate counter. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely breathe.

They weren't just hurting me. They were erasing me. They were planning to take the baby the moment he was born, hand him to Kaleigh, and pretend I never existed. I was just the vessel. The incubator.

The fear evaporated, incinerated by a sudden, blinding rage.

I picked up the phone. I didn't block them yet. I needed to send one message.

To Jacob.

Keep the mistress. Keep the estate. Keep the money. But you will never have my son. He is not an asset. He is a boy. And he is mine.

I hit send.

Then I blocked the number. I blocked Kaleigh. I pulled the SIM card out of the phone and snapped it in half.

I went to the window and looked out at the gray street, praying the distance was enough.

Five minutes later, the cheap burner phone I had bought with cash at a roadside gas station lit up against the gloom.

I stared at it. Only one person had this number. My lawyer, Ms. Davis.

A cold dread settled in my stomach. The text wasn't from her.

The child is Family Property. You are Family Property. There is nowhere you can go that my shadows cannot find you. Come home, Aurelia. Or I will drag you back.

Jacob.

He had already found the new number. Ms. Davis had sold me out.

He wasn't asking anymore. He was hunting.

Aurelia POV

Dr. Lee looked at the ultrasound monitor and smiled, the soft whoosh-whoosh of the Doppler filling the small room.

"He's perfect," she said. "Strong heartbeat. Good measurements."

I looked at the grainy black and white image. My son. He was curled up tight, his hands tucked near his face. He looked peaceful. He was floating in a dark, quiet universe, having no idea he was the center of a war.

"Is it safe to travel?" I asked, my voice tight.

Dr. Lee frowned, wiping the transducer wand. "You're thirty-two weeks, Aurelia. It's risky. Where are you going?"

"Away," I said.

I didn't wait for her advice. I wiped the gel off my stomach with a rough paper towel, pulled my oversized sweater down, and hurried out of the exam room.

I walked out of the clinic into the bright, blinding afternoon sun.

A black armored SUV was idling at the curb.

My heart stopped.

Two men in dark suits were standing by the doors. Soldiers. Jacob's men.

And then, the back window rolled down.

Jacob was sitting there. He was wearing sunglasses, his face an impassive mask of stone.

"Get in," he said.

It wasn't a shout. It was a command, low and vibrating with absolute authority.

People were walking by on the sidewalk. A mother with a stroller. A businessman on his phone. They glanced at the SUV, sensed the radiating danger, and looked away, instinctively walking faster.

"No," I said.

Jacob took off his sunglasses. His eyes were cold, hard ice. "Do not make a scene, Aurelia. You look ridiculous in that sweater. You look poor."

"I am poor," I said, my chin trembling. "You stole everything."

"I am protecting what is mine. Get in the car. We are going home."

"Home to what?" I raised my voice, letting it crack. I wanted people to look. I wanted witnesses. "Home to your mistress? Home to the woman who wants to steal my baby?"

Jacob's jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath the skin. "Lower your voice."

"Why? Are you afraid the world will know the great Don Moretti is conspiring with his sterile whore to kidnap his own child?"

The soldiers shifted uncomfortably, hands hovering near their jackets. Jacob's hand clenched on the doorframe, knuckles turning white.

"She is not sterile," he said, the lie slipping out smooth as silk.

"She is," I said, stepping closer to the car, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline. "I saw her medical records in the safe, Jacob. Along with the prenup. She can't carry a child. That's why you married me. That's why you needed the 'Virgin Heroine.' I was just parts."

Jacob opened the door. He stepped out. He was huge, imposing, radiating a dark, suffocating violence.

"You are hysterical," he said, reaching for my arm.

I stepped back, right into the path of a passing pedestrian. The man stumbled, apologizing profusely.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, grabbing the stranger's sleeve. "Help! He's trying to take me!"

The pedestrian looked terrified. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. "I'm calling the police."

Jacob froze.

\The police were on his payroll, mostly. But a public scene in broad daylight with civilians recording? That brought the FBI. That brought heat he didn't need right now, not with the internal war just settling down.

He looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You are making a mistake," he said softly.

"The mistake was saying 'I do'," I spat back.

He signaled to his men with a sharp jerk of his head. They got back in the car.

"This isn't over," Jacob said. "I will take him, Aurelia. The courts, the streets, it doesn't matter. He is a Moretti. He belongs to the throne."

He got in the car. The SUV peeled away, merging aggressively into traffic.

I stood there shaking, the adrenaline crash leaving me weak.

My phone rang. It was Ms. Davis.

"Aurelia," she sounded breathless. "I just got served. He's suing for full custody. He's alleging mental instability. He has affidavits from three doctors saying you're a danger to yourself and the child."

I watched the black SUV disappear around the corner.

"He bought them," I said dully.

"He has the best lawyers in the state, Aurelia. He has judges in his pocket. If this goes to court... you will lose. You will lose Leo."

Leo. I had named him in my head days ago.

"I know," I whispered.

"What do we do?" Ms. Davis asked, panic edging her voice.

"Legal means won't work," I said, staring at the empty street where he had been. "The law doesn't apply to men like Jacob."

I hung up.

I needed the nuclear option.

Aurelia POV

The knock on the door was soft, almost deceptive.

I peered through the peephole to find Kaleigh standing in the hallway.

She was alone, clutching a Tupperware container like a shield. She was draped in a white cashmere coat that likely cost more than this entire tenement building.

I cracked the door open, leaving the security chain taut between us.

"What do you want?"

"I brought soup," Kaleigh said, presenting the container with a tight, practiced smile. "Minestrone. Jacob's favorite. I thought the baby might need some nutrients. You look... gaunt."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes were a flat, predatory void-like a shark sensing blood in the water.

"Go to hell."

"Oh, come on, Aurelia. Let's talk. Sister to sister."

I undid the chain and swung the door wide. Not to let her in, but because I was finished hiding behind cheap locks that wouldn't stop them anyway.

Kaleigh stepped into the cramped hallway, wrinkling her nose as the scent of stale cooking oil and damp carpet hit her.

"God, how can you live here?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain. "It smells like poverty."

"It smells like freedom," I countered.

She laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "It smells like a rat's nest. Look, Jacob is worried. He wants the boy to have a real family. A mother who knows how to navigate our world. You... you were always too soft. Too civilian."

"And you're hard enough?" I asked.

"I was born in this life. I am a Capo's daughter." She placed a hand on her stomach, a mocking, possessive gesture. "I know what it takes to raise a King."

"But you can't make one," I said quietly.

Kaleigh's smile vanished instantly. Her face twisted, the mask slipping to reveal something ugly and raw beneath.

"My body is broken," she hissed, stepping closer. "But yours works fine. That's all you are, Aurelia. You're a surrogate. A rental."

She pried the lid off the soup. Steam curled into the cold air between us.

"Jacob and I... we are soulmates," she said, her voice trembling with a manic intensity. "We belong together. This baby... he's the final piece. Once you pop him out, you can go. We'll pay you. We'll give you your little architecture firm back. Just give us the boy."

"He's not a piece of furniture you can buy," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of rage and terror.

"He is whatever the Don says he is!" Kaleigh screamed. She stepped forward, the hot soup sloshing dangerously against the rim. "You are nothing! You are a nobody! You should be grateful we let you carry him!"

Something inside me snapped. It was the cable holding back a lifetime of bullying, of silence, of being the "good girl" who always followed the rules.

I didn't think. I reacted.

I slapped the container out of her hand.

But I didn't slap it down. I struck up.

The scalding red liquid exploded upward, coating Kaleigh's pristine white cashmere. It splashed onto her neck. It seared her chin.

She shrieked-a high, piercing sound of shock and agony.

She stumbled back, clawing frantically at her neck, her expensive coat ruined, her skin turning an angry, blistered red.

"You crazy bitch!" she screamed. "You burned me!"

"Get out!" I roared. I grabbed a vase from the entry table-cheap glass-and smashed it on the floor between us, sending shards skittering across the linoleum. "Get out before I kill you!"

Kaleigh looked at me. For the first time, she looked genuinely afraid. She saw the iron in my eyes. She saw that the canary was dead, and something with claws had taken its place.

She turned and fled, her heels beating a staccato rhythm of panic down the hallway.

I slammed the door and threw the bolt. I leaned against the wood, sliding down until I hit the floor.

My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline.

They would come for me now. Not with lawyers. Not with text messages. They would come with guns. Kaleigh would demand blood for the burn. Jacob would demand the heir.

I looked down at my stomach.

"They won't take you," I whispered to Leo.

I couldn't win in court. I couldn't win in a street fight.

There was only one way to escape a Don.

You have to die.

I stood up, my resolve hardening into ice. I walked to the kitchen and turned the dial on the gas stove.

Hissing filled the silence.

I didn't light it. Not yet.

I stared at the lighter in my hand, my thumb hovering over the wheel.

I needed a body. I needed a fire.

I needed Aurelia Moretti to cease to exist so that Leo's mother could be born.