I was Don Victor’s secret wife for five years, hidden away like a dirty little secret.

He made me a promise. Give him an heir, and he’d show me to the world. I’d be the Donna everyone envied.

But there was a catch. A lie. His doctor told me I was barren.

Victor held me while I sobbed, kissing my face. "Baby, we can still do IVF. I want a child from you. Only you."

So I took the pain. Five years. 999 needles. I was finally pregnant on Christmas Day.

I ran to his office to share the news, only to find him buried deep inside another woman.

Julia. A Mafia princess from another family.

The betrayal hit me. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes, but then I heard a truth I couldn't escape.

"Don't you worry, my princess. The baby in Maria's belly? It's ours. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel."

My hand trembled. I backed away, silent.

Then I made a call. A lawyer. "I don't care what it costs. I want a divorce from Don Victor."

Five years married to Don Victor. 999 needles later, I was finally pregnant. But the baby wasn't mine. It belonged to his mistress, Julia.

An hour ago, I was flying home from the hospital, the positive report clutched in my hand. It was Christmas Day. My husband, Don Victor, was about to get the surprise of his life.

I reached his office. The heavy bass of a song pulsed from under the door. Then I heard his laugh—the sound that used to own my heart.

Victor was inside.

I took a deep breath, ready to give him the one thing he wanted more than anything.

And then I heard another woman's moan.

"Ah... Victor... right there..."

My hand froze on the doorknob.

"You like that, my queen? My Julia?" Victor's voice was rough, full of lust.

My queen.

He never called me that.

In five years, the closest he got was "baby."

Julia.

The daughter of some second-rate family who’d been throwing herself at Victor for years.

I’d heard her name before we were married.

The woman was obsessed with him. She even threw herself onto his lap in a casino once, wearing nothing but leather, begging him for one night.

I was terrified. But a week later, Victor showed up with 999 roses and a ring.

He said he loved me. He said my family were nobodies, that we had no standing.

He promised if I gave him an heir, he’d make our secret marriage public. I'd be the Donna everyone would envy.

But after the wedding, the doctors said I couldn't get pregnant. It had to be IVF.

Last night, after a shower, I touched him in bed, tried to guide his hand to my breast.

He pushed me off. "Maria, I'm exhausted tonight. You know how business is. And your body... let's wait until after the baby, okay?

Now he was in his office, fucking someone else.

"Deeper... ah... you're driving me crazy..." Julia's voice was sweet and filthy.

The wet slap of flesh on flesh.

Their ragged breaths.

"Tell me you love me, Julia."

"I love you... my king... I only love you..."

It was a knife to the chest.

Just yesterday morning, he told me, "Love is a luxury, Maria. We have duty."

"Victor, is that stupid woman still dreaming of being your wife?" Julia asked, still breathless, her voice dripping with scorn.

"Maria?" Victor chuckled. Not a trace of warmth. "She's so naive. Five years, and she still believes she's barren."

Barren. That was Victor's lie?

I looked at the purple pinpricks covering my arms.

I remembered crying silently in the bathroom after every failed attempt.

The doctor saying, "Mrs. Moretti, there is an issue with your ovarian function."

Victor holding me, saying, "It's okay. We'll keep trying. Science will help us."

It was all a lie.

"To think I put birth control in her coffee every morning for five years, and the bitch never suspected a thing." Julia’s laugh was sharp and ugly, like shattering glass.

Birth control.

I thought of the coffee Victor made for me himself every morning.

"A special blend from the nutritionist," he’d said. "It's good for getting pregnant."

I remembered drinking every last drop, so grateful. I thought it was his love.

"The way she cries like a baby with every hormone shot... it makes me want to laugh," Victor said, his voice cold. "I'm the one stopping her from getting pregnant, and she thanks me for going to the hospital with her."

My body began to tremble.

Every shot, every blood draw, every gut-wrenching failure... he was there for all of it, playing the part of a loving husband.

Stroking my hair, saying, "We'll get there, I promise."

"So the baby in her belly..." Julia asked.

"You're too precious for that, Julia. A Romano princess shouldn't have to suffer childbirth," Victor said, whispering the sweet words I'd craved for five years. "As for the baby in Maria... of course it's ours, darling. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel."

My hand fell from the doorknob. The pregnancy report slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

Tears streamed down my face.

Even the baby... this baby wasn't mine?

I bent down, picked up the damn report, and crumpled it in my fist.

Inside, Julia screamed his name. Victor let out a satisfied growl.

I turned and walked away from that hell, my footsteps silent.

The moment I started the engine, the dam broke.

The snow in Chicago was coming down hard, piling up on the windshield.

I floored it. I had to know it all. The whole, ugly truth.

The emergency room was nearly empty on Christmas. The nurse on duty, Sarah, jumped when she saw my red, swollen eyes.

"Mrs. Moretti? What happened?"

"I need my medical records," my voice was ice. "All of them. The IVF files."

"Ma'am, it's Christmas..."

I slapped a stack of cash on the counter.

"Fifty thousand dollars. Pull up the records for my eggs. Now."

Sarah's eyes went wide.

She glanced at the money, then back at my face. The look in my eyes told her this wasn't a request. She opened the computer.

"Maria Moretti's file... oh my god..." her voice trembled.

"Spit it out."

"Ma'am, your eggs... they were never used. The records show that every single IVF attempt used eggs from a... Ms. Julia Romano."

The world went silent.

999 needles. 999 hopes. 999 heartbreaks.

And my eggs were never even touched.

Staring at the truth on the screen, I heard a sound. It was me. Laughing.

"Thank you for your honesty, Sarah."

The snow fell in thick sheets, painting all of Chicago pure white.

Ironic.

This city of sin looked so holy tonight.

I drove home. Every Christmas light on every house was mocking me.

Red, green, and gold mocked me from every house. Every sparkling light was a fresh stab of pain.

Families were celebrating. Together.

And me? A surrogate for my own husband, carrying another woman’s child, crying in a snowstorm.

When the estate came into view, I couldn't believe my eyes.

The whole house was lit up, brighter than I'd ever seen it.

In the living room was a massive Christmas tree. At least twelve feet tall, covered in crystal ornaments and gold ribbons.

It was the tree I had begged for for years.

Every year I'd ask Victor, "Can we get a bigger tree? For our future kids?"

And he'd always say, "Maria, you haven't produced an heir yet. The Elders in the family would talk. We need to be discreet."

Now, a tree worth tens of thousands of dollars stood in the living room.

Not for me. Not for our child. For Julia.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw it. The final heartbreak.

Victor and Julia stood before the tree. A huge cake sat on the table.

In pink icing, it said: "To Our New Beginning."

They blew out the candles together. Then they kissed, long and deep.

Julia wore a white evening gown I’d never seen before, a diamond necklace sparkling under the lights.

That necklace. I’d seen it in a magazine. Half a million dollars.

I’d pointed it out once. "That's beautiful," I'd said.

Victor had replied, "Too flashy. Not for you."

Now it was around Julia's neck.

I slipped into the house. No one noticed me.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Julia’s high, tinkling laughter—a sound that grated on my nerves. "Victor, this is the most perfect Christmas I've ever had."

"This is just the start, my queen. Once our child is born, I'll give you the wedding of the century."

I walked into our bedroom and shut the door.

Everything in this room was his choice.

Deep blue walls, because he liked blue.

A leather sofa, because he found it comfortable.

The huge bookshelf, filled with his business books.

I looked around and realized a brutal truth.

Nothing in this room was me.

Not my taste.

Not my desires.

Not a single trace of my existence.

Even the mirror was his pick, because "the angle is perfect for watching the bed."

Five years of marriage. What did I have to show for it?

A cheating husband?

A child that wasn't mine?

A thousand lonely nights?

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand on my flat stomach.

An innocent life was growing here.

No matter where the genes came from, it was part of me now.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered. "Mommy's getting you out of this hell."

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.

The best divorce lawyer in New York. Marcus Kane.

It rang three times.

"Kane Law, Christmas emergency line." A tired voice answered.

"Marcus, it's Maria Moretti."

Silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Maria? What... what's wrong?"

"I want a divorce."

"A divorce? Are you insane? Do you know who your husband is?"

"Of course I do. Don Victor Moretti, the biggest Godfather in Chicago," my voice was pure ice. "So tell me, Marcus. How much will it cost to divorce the biggest monster in Chicago?"

A deep sigh came through the phone.

"Maria... it could cost you your life."

"I don't care about the cost, Marcus," I gripped the phone tighter. "I have to leave him."

I heard the rustle of papers on his end.

"Let's see... your prenup... Jesus, Maria, this isn't a prenup. It's a slave contract."

"What does it say?"

"If you initiate the divorce, you walk away with nothing. Not only that, you owe him fifty million dollars in damages." Marcus's voice was heavy. "Worse, Article Thirteen forbids you from removing any 'asset' belonging to the Moretti family. And Maria, they define an unborn child as an asset."

My blood ran cold.

"But there's one exception," Marcus continued. "If you can prove Victor violated the marital fidelity clause, the contract is void."

"I have proof."

"What kind of proof?"

"I saw him with Julia Romano tonight. And... this baby isn't mine."

"What? You need to explain..."

"Marcus, give me twenty-four hours. I'll get you all the proof you need. For now, just tell me: how do I disappear?"

"Maria, this is dangerous. The Moretti family's tentacles are everywhere in Chicago, even..."

"I know the risks. Tell me how."

Marcus was quiet for a long time.

"You need a new identity. A completely clean background, something that can pass their internal checks. I have a guy..."

"Give me the number."

After hanging up, I went to the closet.

I froze when I opened the doors.

In the massive walk-in, my clothes took up a tiny corner.

A few simple dresses, a couple of basic sweaters, one pair of flats.

The rest of the space belonged to Victor. Rows of custom Armani, bespoke suits from Savile Row—each one worth more than my parents’ house.

My entire wardrobe wouldn't even fill a small suitcase.

Five years of marriage. This was all I had.

I grabbed a small backpack and started packing the basics.

A change of clothes, my passport, and the two hundred thousand dollars in cash I had stashed in a lingerie drawer.

It was money I’d saved, bit by bit, from the allowance Victor gave me.

Looks like that little habit just saved my life.

I took out my phone and dialed the number Marcus gave me.

"Yeah?" a low voice answered.

"I'm a client of Marcus Kane. I need a new ID, something that can..."

The door was suddenly thrown open.

My heart stopped.

Victor stood in the doorway, that familiar, tender smile on his face.

I quickly ended the call, my hand shaking as I hid the phone behind my back.

"Baby, you're back. Why didn't you come find me?" He walked toward me, his eyes searching my face, missing nothing.

"I... I just got in. I was tired, so I came straight upstairs."

"Marco already told me the good news." His smile grew wider. "You're pregnant."

He came closer, his hands framing my face.

"I'm so happy, Maria. Thank you for finally giving me this child."

He leaned down and kissed my lips. It was a kiss of triumph, of satisfaction.

I smiled coldly in my mind.

Of course you're happy, Victor. I'm finally giving you and Julia a baby.

He pulled back and snapped his fingers.

Two maids entered, pushing a small cart.

"A reward for my good girl."

On the cart was a bouquet of roses and a velvet box. Inside was a diamond necklace. It was beautiful, but it was a consolation prize. A cheap copy of the one sparkling on Julia’s throat.

"Like it?" Victor asked, his voice generous, like he was giving charity.

"It's beautiful," I forced a smile.

Even pregnant, even after years of pain for him, what he gave me was still just a fraction of what he gave Julia.

Good thing I was leaving.

"Oh, one more thing," Victor said suddenly. "Julia, come in."

Julia glided into the room. She’d changed into an expensive silk robe.

"There was an... incident at Julia's villa tonight," Victor said, his tone dangerously casual. "She'll be staying here for the foreseeable future. I trust you'll make her feel welcome."