Giselle's voice carried in the quiet. "That bracelet you gave Seraphina… worth millions, right? I begged you for one, and you ignored me. She doesn't even ask, and you hand her the best gift in the world."

Dominic's shadow shifted. He pushed her legs from his waist, sat up, and lit a cigarette. His face was calm, almost bored. "I told you already… We were going to divorce soon. I love my wife but for now, we keep it a secret. If she finds out, it's over."

Giselle climbed onto him, naked. "I know, but I love you too. I can't help being jealous."

Dominic sighed, then reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bracelet the same style as mine, just a different color. He dangled it in front of her like a treat.

"Don't pout. I bought one for you too. Wear it in private. If Seraphina sees it, we're done."

Giselle's face lit up. She kissed him, whispering thanks, still marked with his touch. Then she asked, soft and curious, "Why are you so scared of her leaving you, Dominic?"

His reply was quick, steady, without hesitation.

"I'm not really that scared because I have you. But Seraphina was adored by my grandfather. After I inherit my grandfather's billions in assets… I can finally leave her and marry you."

And then he pushed her back down, claiming her again, the bed creaking under their weight. Her moans filled the night air.

I pressed my hand against the wall, choking on my sobs, staring at our wedding photo hanging nearby. His smiling face in that picture looked like a cruel joke.

"Thirteen days, Dominic," I whispered through tears.

"I'll be gone. Let's see how crazy you really get."

I woke up to shouting outside, the kind that shakes you out of sleep before you're ready. When I opened my door, I saw a woman in the garden of the neighboring estate, clutching at a man's shirt.

"Franco, I gave you ten years of my life. I even had your children," she sobbed. "When we got married, you swore you'd love me forever. And now, just a few years later, you're sneaking around with another woman?"

It was barely sunrise, but the grounds along the private lake were already stirring with household staff and early risers from the adjacent Family properties. Now they all stopped, staring, whispers rising as the scene unfolded.

The man, Franco, someone everyone in the gated community of Family estates knew, went pale when he saw the crowd. He yanked the woman inside and snapped at her.

"What's wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you? No man stays loyal."

His words cut like glass. I stood frozen, the echo of them clawing at me. Then a warm hand slid over my ear from behind, shielding me.

"Don't listen to that nonsense, Seraphina," Dominic murmured.

I didn't turn to him. "Tell me, Dominic… do all men cheat in the end?"

He stilled for a moment, then gently turned me around to face him. His dark eyes locked on mine. "I can't speak for the rest of the world. But me? I'll only ever love you."

I searched his face, his perfect, practiced expression. "You'll only love me for a lifetime? But a lifetime is so long."

He pulled me close. "A lifetime is long, yes. That's why I only want you to fill it."

I let out a laugh, but it tasted bitter on my tongue. "What if you betray me, Dominic?"

"If I ever betray you, may God strike me where I stand."

The vow was bold. Cruel, almost. Because I already knew the truth. His skin reeked of another woman's perfume after nights he spent away from me. He could touch them, claim them, and still whisper these words as if he meant them.

"Are you really not afraid that promise might come true?"

"Not at all. No one in this world knows how deep my love runs for you. If you don't believe me, I'll open my chest and show you my heart. If that still doesn't convince you, Seraphina… I'll give you my life."

I thought to myself, If you're so willing to give me your life, why can't you control your desire?

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

"What are the two of you doing here?"

We both turned. Giselle stood there, draped in a red dress that clung to her curves, leaning casually against the frame.

I felt Dominic stiffen beside me. His brows pulled together. "It's not the weekend. Why are you dressed like that? Where are you going?"

It wasn't the voice of a brother-in-law. It was sharper, tinged with something that sounded far too much like jealousy.

Giselle noticed. She smiled, slow and deliberate. "Family gathering tonight at the Castellano club. I'll find myself a boyfriend there, so don't wait up."

Dominic's expression darkened, but Giselle only grinned wider before turning her eyes to me. "What about you, Seraphina? Any plans for today?"

Dominic didn't let me answer. His fingers slid through mine. "Seraphina and I are heading back to the compound."

Giselle's eyes sparkled with something I couldn't name. She gave a polite little nod, said goodbye, and walked out, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume.

And Dominic… Dominic still hadn't let go of my hand.

Half an hour later, Dominic was behind the wheel, driving me back to the Ferrante estate.

I hated going there. His parents had never warmed to me. Only his grandfather, the old Don, ever did. To the rest of them, I was a curse. I had given birth to a daughter when all they wanted was a son to carry the Ferrante name, and when she died, their hatred for me grew sharper, venomous. Every visit, their eyes cut me down like knives, as if I had stolen their heir with my own hands.

Dominic usually avoided bringing me, saying it wasn't worth the stress. But this time his mother, Elisabetta, wasn't feeling well. As much as I dreaded it, we had to come.

When we stepped inside, Salvatore and Elisabetta were smiling, chatting warmly with each other in the parlor. The second they saw me, their faces turned cold.

My chest tightened. I kept my head lowered, pretending I didn't notice, but Dominic did.

His voice turned sharp. "If you two keep treating Seraphina like this, then don't expect us to come back again."

The room went silent until Salvatore slammed his hand against the table, making me flinch. "Watch your mouth. Are you really saying you'd turn your back on your family for this woman?"

Before I could step away, Dominic caught my hand, threading his fingers through mine, holding me still. "Father, I've said this many times. Seraphina is the woman I love. The one person I can't bear to hurt. I won't even raise my voice at her, and yet you give her this coldness every time. Do you know what that does to me?" His grip on my hand tightened. "If this happens again, I won't just walk out of this house. I'll walk away from this family for good."

The Don everyone feared, the man who could order a hit with a flick of his hand, who ran the Ferrante empire like a closed fist around the eastern seaboard. But right then he sounded like a devoted husband willing to burn his whole world for me.

Pathetic. He thought I didn't know about his affair.

The room went quiet after Dominic threw his words out like a knife. He looked like the perfect protective husband, standing there like a shield in front of me. But I didn't feel safe. I just felt… tired.

Elisabetta sighed and finally muttered, "Fine. Let's eat first."

At the table, the only noise was the clink of silver against porcelain. The dining room of the Ferrante compound smelled of slow-cooked ragu and cold money. Elisabetta kept making those little annoyed sounds, and my hand tightened around my fork. I knew it was coming.

Sure enough, she dropped her fork and said, "It's been nine months. Enough grieving. You lost a daughter, fine. But it's time to give us a grandson. You can't just end the Ferrante bloodline."

Her husband nodded, cold eyes fixed on me. Salvatore pointed his index finger at me, jabbing the air between us. "That child died because you didn't care for her properly. A simple stomach ache, and she never came home from the clinic. Stop playing the victim, Seraphina. Conceive again and do it right this time."

The words sliced straight through me, but before I could open my mouth, Dominic set his fork down. His voice was calm, but sharp enough to cut. "I already told you. Seraphina is scared of pain. I won't let her suffer like that. If we never have kids, so be it."

Their faces dropped, heavy with disdain, and the air grew thick. They were about to start another round when I finally spoke. My voice was steady, even.

"You'll have a grandchild in half a month."

The room froze. Three pairs of eyes cut toward me.

Dominic squeezed my hand, his face painted with that sweet, fake concern. "Sweetheart… You don't have to force yourself for me. I'll protect you."

I almost laughed. Protect me? He couldn't even stop himself from running into Giselle's arms every chance he got.

I smiled anyway. "You two want a grandson so badly. Let's make it happen for you."

They softened instantly, pleased with my answer. But Dominic looked uneasy, like he could smell something wrong but didn't know where it was coming from.

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

"Dominic, some guy wants a quickie, would it be okay?"

I counted in my head. One. Two. Three.

He stood right on cue. His jaw clenched and his neck rolled once, a single controlled motion, before he spoke. "Seraphina, I have to handle something at the club. Stay and finish dinner. I'll come back for you later."

He didn't wait for me to answer. Just grabbed his jacket and left.

The second the door shut, Salvatore and Elisabetta dropped the fake politeness.

Elisabetta straightened the pearls at her throat, drawing the triple strand smooth between her thumb and forefinger. She'd already decided.

"We'll give you less than a month. If you don't conceive again, don't ever dare show your face in this house. You come from nothing! Both your parents gone, no name, no family. Without Dominic, you're no one. The Ferrante name gave you everything, and don't think we'll tolerate you forever."

Their words kept cutting, sharper each time, until it felt like the walls themselves were pressing in. Through the window, I could see the compound guards pacing along the gate, oblivious. No one in this house would come for me.

And Dominic? He never came back.

Dominic finally showed up that evening, calm as ever, like nothing happened. We got into the car, the leather still warm from the sun.

I glanced out the window and asked lightly, "You done with work?"

He hesitated, just for a breath, then said softly, "Yeah." His fingers tapped against the wheel, steady, rhythmic. That was his little tell when he was in a good mood.

The silence stretched, and then he asked, "Did my parents give you trouble after I left?"

I was about to answer when my eyes caught something under the seat. A pair of torn silk stockings. Not mine.

So that's where he'd been. I knew about Giselle, but I hadn't expected he'd use this very car. The car with the Ferrante crest discreetly etched into the dashboard.

Seven years of marriage and I'd always been… careful. I wasn't wild, I wasn't daring. Sometimes I even asked him if he wanted me to change, if I was boring him.

Back then, he just held me close, kissing my hair, whispering, "Sweetheart, I only want you. Even if you wore rags, you'd still be the one I'd choose. Don't force yourself to be anything else. I love you the way you are."

But the man who said those words now reeked of 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 him.

He suddenly hit the brakes, pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry, Seraphina. I shouldn't have left you alone. I promise, it won't happen again."

His embrace felt like a cage.

I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him off gently. "Just drive, Dominic. I'm tired."

Because I knew deep down. There was no future left for us.

The moment I stepped into the house, I froze.

Giselle was lounging on the sofa in a silky nightgown, eating chips like she owned the place. Like this was her compound, her territory, her home.

"Didn't you say you had a party tonight? Said you weren't coming home?"

She gave me this shy little smile. "Oh, Seraphina, I forgot to mention. I had a fight with my boyfriend, so I went to the party to piss him off. Told him about it, but he didn't care. Then, the second I got there, he showed up, dragged me out."

Her fingers flicked at her collar, and the fabric slipped just enough to show the marks on her skin. Hickeys. Fresh. She gave me a sly look like it was some sort of prize.

"I didn't expect him to be so jealous," she said sweetly. Her thumb traced along the inside of her wrist as the words left her mouth. "We ended up making out in the car. Three times."

My nails bit into my palms so hard it hurt. But I kept my voice even. "When did you get a boyfriend? You never said a word."

She just laughed lightly, tossing her hair. "Oh, about nine months ago after I came back from abroad and Julian introduced him to me."

Nine months. The exact time she moved into this house. The exact time Dominic's so-called friend asked him to "look after his sister." What a joke. She'd latched onto him the first day. The Don's wife and the Don's mistress, living under the same roof. And the whole household knew the arrangement, the way a crime family always knows. They knew and they said nothing, because that is how omertà works even inside a marriage.

I couldn't stop my breathing from turning heavy. The rage sat right under my skin. And that's when I felt it. Dominic's hands, heavy on my shoulders.

"Sweetheart, you've had a rough day. Let me run you a bath. You need to rest."

He guided me toward the bathroom like nothing was wrong.

I slipped inside, closed the door, and started undressing, the thought of soaking in the tub the only thing keeping me steady. Then I realized I'd forgotten clean clothes.

When I opened the door, the world stopped.

Not far away, Dominic was on top of Giselle. His hand ripped at her nightgown like it was paper, his mouth pressed against her skin while his grip locked on her waist. The hallway light caught the signet ring on his finger, the Ferrante crest, as it pressed into the curve of her hip.

She tilted her head back, letting out these soft little moans. "Easy… Seraphina's still in the shower. Didn't you get enough in the car earlier?"

He growled low, voice sharp, possessive. "Shut up! If you even think about letting another man touch you, you'll regret it."

She giggled, wicked and pleased, and then her eyes slid to me. Standing there, frozen.

"Alright," she purred, "I won't. I'm all yours. You're so jealous, babe, hmm?"

That was enough. I grabbed my clothes, shut the bathroom door, and locked it.

The water was hot when I slid into the tub, but it didn't burn as much as the memory replaying in my head.

Seven years ago. Our honeymoon on that island. I'd looked just once at a man with abs. Dominic lost his mind so he kept me locked inside the suite for a week. The enforcers stationed outside the door never questioned it. The Don's wife stays where the Don puts her.

When the bed broke and the supplies ran out, he pulled me close. "Seraphina, I've got everything you need. Don't look at anyone else. Just promise me."

I had promised him. Over and over.

And since then, I never dared to even glance at another man. But now, he was just as obsessed. Just not with me. With her.

I sank deeper into the water and let out a shaky breath.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Giselle was gone. Only Dominic was sitting there, calm as if nothing had happened.

On the table, there was a plate of neatly sliced fruit and a steaming cup of ginger tea. The sight made my chest tighten.

He stood and handed me the cup. "I know your period's close. This will help with the cramps."

The heat from the cup seeped into my hands, but inside, I felt ice cold. How could he act so normal? Just minutes ago, he was tearing at Giselle's clothes. Now here he was, pretending to be the perfect husband. The Don who runs his empire with absolute control, playing house with the wife he's already betrayed.

I didn't sleep much that night. My mind kept circling back to the same question: how many faces does he have?

Sometime before dawn, I must've drifted off. A sudden shout yanked me awake.

"Seraphina!"

He jolted up, hands searching wildly in the dark until he found me. His chest heaved, his grip crushing me against him. "Don't go. Please… don't leave me."

I froze in his arms. "What's wrong with you?"

His eyes were red, his breath still uneven. "I dreamt you walked away from me. It was hell, Seraphina. I woke up and you were here. Thank God you're here."

I looked down, words heavy on my tongue. I wanted to tell him the dream would come true soon. But I stayed quiet. My thumb drifted across the bare skin of my left ring finger. The wedding band was still there, but it already felt like something that belonged to someone else.

Maybe that nightmare shook him, because the next morning, he didn't let me out of his sight. He insisted on driving me to the social club himself, like he was afraid I'd disappear the moment he blinked.

The moment we stepped into Dominic's office, I froze. His entire desk was covered in pictures of me. Different angles, different days, some I didn't even know he'd taken.

I felt a chill run through me. In any other life, it might have been romantic. In this one, it looked like surveillance. Before I could say anything, I felt him behind me. His arms slid around my waist, his lips brushing my neck.

"Seraphina," he whispered, voice low and smooth, "a lot of women throw themselves at me. But when I look at these, I remember who I belong to. You don't have to worry. I'm all yours."

I kept my eyes on the pictures, my lips pressed tight. I couldn't bring myself to answer. All yours. The same mouth that said those words had been on Giselle's skin three hours ago.

A knock came at the door. Luca's voice followed. "Boss, the sit-down's about to start."

Dominic sighed, reluctant, and held me a moment longer before letting go. "Stay here, baby. Walk around, make yourself comfortable. I'll be back soon."

I nodded, though my chest was heavy. The last thing I wanted was to sit in his office surrounded by my own face. So I wandered. Floor after floor of the Ferrante family's front business, pretending to look, pretending to care.

By noon, my phone buzzed. I picked it up quickly, my heart racing when I saw the caller ID.

"Ms. Seraphina Cooper," the woman said politely, "your application for immigration has been approved. Please come to the consulate to collect your visa."

I opened my mouth to answer, but a voice I knew too well cut in from behind me.

"Visa?"

My blood ran cold.