The day before my wedding, my sister and I were ambushed. My fiancé, Vincenzo, and his men scrambled to react, but they only pulled my sister, Lola, out of the crossfire. She didn't have a scratch on her.

I was left to die on the cold highway, the ensuing car crash costing me my fertility.

Word of what happened to me traveled up and down the East Coast. I became a joke—the barren woman who couldn't give the Costello family an heir.

When my own family cast me aside, Vincenzo defied the elders. He threw me a wedding grander than anyone imagined and shielded me, treating me like his most precious treasure.

But in the third year of our marriage, I stumbled upon a recording on an encrypted hard drive in his study, where Vincenzo coldly ordered his right-hand man, "The goal is a car crash. Make it look like an ambush gone wrong. Lola must be unharmed. I want one outcome: Lexi must be left barren."

Another clip played, Vincenzo's ruthless voice cutting through the static: "An infertile wife is the perfect ornament, isn't she?"

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1

The air conditioning in the study was cranked high, but it couldn't touch the chill that had settled deep in my bones.

The progress bar on the screen had ended, but Vincenzo's voice echoed endlessly in my mind. That audio clip was a rusty saw, methodically grinding away the facade of our three-year marriage.

Every syllable was a bullet lodging itself in my heart. My hand shot to my lower abdomen, to the hideous scar that still ached on rainy days. I had stroked it countless times, telling myself it was a cruel twist of fate and that Vincenzo had been the one to pull me back from the abyss.

How ridiculous. The man who pushed me off the cliff was the same one who pulled me back up.

In that instant, the horrific car crash was no longer a memory of an accident, but a meticulously designed production. The tumbling car, the acrid smell of gasoline, the agony of metal tearing into my flesh—all orchestrated by the man I loved most, my husband, to make me his “perfect ornament.”

If he wanted me destroyed, why marry me at all?

Was it all for show, as everyone whispered? To protect the Costello family's reputation? Or was it just to keep me trapped by his side, watching me worship him like a grateful fool?

In the corner of the computer screen, the encrypted messaging app flashed. A new message from Vincenzo's Consigliere.

As I read the words, tears finally broke free, streaming down my face.

"I never married Lexi out of guilt. I married her to keep my most perfect masterpiece by my side, to be admired."

"As for an heir… Lola will give me one. And my poor, barren wife will be this child's rightful 'mother.' A perfect, closed loop."

I gasped for air, my fingers trembling. This wasn't just betrayal. He was erasing my very existence. He had not only stolen my right to be a mother but planned for me to raise the child of the sister who had helped ruin my life.

Lola. My own sister. The angel everyone adored. She was an accomplice.

"You're obsessed with my 'dear' sister, aren't you, Vincenzo!" The words tore from my throat, raw and hoarse.

The sound of steady footsteps echoed from the entryway. Vincenzo was home.

I scrambled into the washroom, twisting the faucet and splashing cold water on my burning face. The woman in the mirror was ghostly pale, but a cold, deadly flame burned in her eyes. I couldn't fall apart. Not yet.

When I walked out, Vincenzo was in the center of the living room, loosening his tie. His handsome face broke into that adoring smile I'd never once questioned. He strode over, his hands on my shoulders, and eased me down onto the soft leather sofa.

His large hands, which I once adored, now felt like venomous snakes slithering over my flat stomach.

"My girl, have you been crying? Thinking about the accident again?" His voice was a low, magnetic rumble. "Tell me when it hurts. Don't carry it alone. It breaks my heart."

His heart?

If a murderer could feel heartache for his victim, then the world truly was a sick joke.

He snapped his fingers. A line of uniformed servants filed in, carrying trays of exotic broths and expensive tonics. It had been the same every day for three years. Under the guise of “nourishing” my body, he was really just caging me.

Looking at the food that had once moved me to tears, I now felt only a wave of nausea.

"I don't want this anymore." I turned my head away—my first act of defiance. "Vincenzo, it's been years. I've recovered. Can I have a life of my own? I want to work, or maybe just travel."

Vincenzo went still. A sinister glint flashed in his eyes before being swallowed by that sick, obsessive affection. His fingers traced my cheek, his breath dangerously close.

"My girl, your body is too fragile. The world outside is full of germs and danger. You can't leave my protection."

"We are meant to rule this empire together. You have no idea how important you are to me, Lexi. You are my heart, and I will not allow my heart to be exposed to the slightest risk."

Beautiful, honey-coated words, each one laced with arsenic. He wasn't protecting me; he was imprisoning me.

Just as he was about to feed me a spoonful himself, as if I were a pet, his private, encrypted phone rang.

The moment he answered, the oppressive aura around him vanished, replaced by a tenderness I had never, ever heard from him.

"Baby, some urgent family business came up. I have to go." He hung up, planting a hurried kiss on my forehead. "Be a good girl and stay home. I'll be back to check on your 'homework'—and you know the punishment for disobedience."

Watching him leave, I felt no lingering affection, only disgust.

I swept every priceless dish from the table into the trash can, watching them blend into a filthy mess, just like my marriage.

Back in the study, I copied the recordings and chat logs. Just then, my phone lit up. A new Instagram post from Lola.

In the photo, Lola was a glowing new mother, cradling a wrinkly newborn. And beside her, my husband, Vincenzo, held the baby with the tender joy of a new father.

Around the infant's neck was the emerald necklace. The one reserved for the matriarch of the Costello family.

The caption was a knife to the heart: 【What's it like having a brother-in-law who spoils you rotten? Thanks to Vince for booking the entire private hospital for me. So glad to have you here for every milestone~】

Numbly, I clicked open another, deeply hidden folder on the computer. A lifetime trust agreement stared back at me: Vincenzo had gifted ninety percent of his liquid assets to Lola Rossi and her descendants.

My tears had run dry. All that was left was a hysterical urge to laugh.

So this was what his love looked like. Unconditional. All-consuming. It seemed he was even willing to raise a child for her, no matter who the father was.

Since you love her so much, since you're both so desperate to be together…

Then I'll grant your wish.

The next day, I didn't wait in the manor for Vincenzo's "visit."

I printed the divorce papers and contacted the mysterious organization known only as "Elysian." The rumor was they could make anyone disappear from the world, without a trace.

After scheduling the "service" for that afternoon, I drove to the private hospital.

The moment I pushed open the door to her room, it felt like I'd stumbled into a victory party.

Lola was lounging against the headboard like a queen, accepting congratulations from family Capos and associates. She held the baby, a triumphant smirk on her face as she opened her mouth for a spoonful of soup from Vincenzo.

What a perfect little family.

The air in the room froze when they saw me. Vincenzo's hand trembled, spilling soup on the pristine sheets. Panic flashed in his eyes as he put the bowl down and strode toward me.

"Lexi, what are you doing here?" he whispered, trying to block my view. "You're not well. You shouldn't be in a place like this, full of germs."

"Lola's husband is stuck in Europe. She grew up with us, she's like a sister to me… you know that. I'm just helping out."

"I know you haven't forgiven your parents, but Lola and the baby are innocent!"

His excuses were pathetic and frantic, each word a desperate lie.

I stared at him, my hand tightening on the divorce papers in my bag, ready to throw them in his face.

But Lola moved first. With a theatrical gasp, as if she'd seen a ghost, she rolled off the bed, clutching the baby, and crawled toward me on her knees.

"Sister! Sister, I'm begging you!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face. "I know Mom and Dad and I wronged you! I know you hate me for stealing their love, but please, I'm begging you, don't hurt my child!"

"Direct your hatred at me! My baby is so small, he can't endure your malice!"

She held up her phone for everyone to see.

On the screen was a chat history between us. It was filled with vicious, threatening messages and even photoshopped images of dead infants. The timestamps spanned her entire pregnancy.

Ice flooded my veins. I’d cut ties with her three years ago. Deleted her number. I hadn't sent a single message.

"You malicious woman!"

Before I could defend myself, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

My father, the man who gave me life but never an ounce of warmth, glared at me, his eyes blazing with fury. My mother stood beside him, her expression one of pure disgust, as if I were something vile she'd stepped in.

"How did we raise a monster like you!" my father roared.

The whispers from the associates and elders grew louder:

"I knew it. A woman that broken is bound to be twisted."

"Poor Vincenzo, stuck with a barren, venomous wife who wants to harm the family's only hope."

"She won't even spare a newborn. A woman like that belongs in hell."

My cheek burned, my ears ringing. I instinctively looked to Vincenzo.

For three years, no matter the gossip, he had always been the one to shield me, to silence the whispers, sometimes permanently.

But not this time.

He gripped my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin so hard I thought the bones would snap.

"Lexi! You've disappointed me more than I can say," he growled, his eyes filled with anguish. "It's one thing to throw tantrums at home, but this? How could you do something so despicable?"

"Will you only be happy once you've destroyed everyone?"

"Apologize to Lola. Now. Stop making innocent people suffer for your jealousy."

I looked at this man and felt as if I were seeing a stranger.

It turned out that when it came to a choice between Lola and me, his so-called "devotion" was paper-thin. He condemned me without a single question, without a shred of proof.

I forced my head high, blinking back the burning tears. My voice trembled but came out unnervingly clear.

"Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?"

"You say she's innocent? Let me ask you, Vincenzo, is she? Are you?"