Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart.

He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut.

But he’s the one who gave me these three scars.

The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side.

The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed.

When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital.

The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile.

He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.”

But this time, I didn't forgive him.

I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace.

And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

I was Gavin Whitestone’s treasure for ten years. Then he abandoned me for another woman three times, and I finally saw the truth. I didn't love him anymore.

I have three scars. Each one is named Gavin Whitestone.

The first is just below my ribs, from a shootout two years ago. Sofia Bianchi ran out of a corner and took a bullet for Gavin. It hit her arm. Gavin sent every doctor in the city to her side, while I was left in a dark corner, pressing my hand to my stomach to keep myself from bleeding out from a piece of shrapnel.

That night, he held my hand and said, "Viola, put a bullet in me. If it makes you feel better, just do it." I saw the bloodshot veins in his eyes and my heart softened. Like a fool, I forgave him.

The second scar is on my shoulder. Sofia “bravely” went to Gavin’s room to “help” him after he was drugged. When I walked in on them, he pushed her away. But the moment Sofia clutched her stomach and cried out in pain, he rushed to scoop her up, slamming me hard against the metal doorframe as he ran out.

Afterward, the deed to a hundred-million-dollar pier was placed in front of me. And I forgave him again.

But I never expected a third time.

And this time, it wasn't a piece of my body he was taking, but my soul.

The VIP room of the underground casino was thick with the smell of cigars and whiskey.

Sofia was curled in Gavin’s lap, her finger pointing at my hip.

"Gavin, I'm all out of chips, but I want that," she whined, her voice was pure sugar, thick and cloying. "That silver gun is so pretty. So vintage and elegant. Can I play with it?"

My blood ran cold.

It was my revolver. The last thing my father left me, and a symbol of the Rossi family's past glory.

"No," I said, my voice ice.

Gavin hesitated, then melted under Sofia’s teary-eyed gaze.

"Viola, don't be so stingy." Gavin's voice was low, laced with a careless affection—for Sofia, of course. "The doctor said Sofia's emotions are unstable in her first trimester. She needs little things to keep her happy. It's just an old gun. I'll get you a better one."

"It was a gift from my father!" I shot to my feet, the chair screeching against the floor. "Gavin, that's my line in the sand."

"I should be your only line," Gavin frowned, clearly annoyed by my "childishness." He took the gun from my holster, his tone turning cold. "She's our savior, Viola. She took a bullet for me. Without her, I'd be dead. You need to show some gratitude."

Gratitude?

Using my father's legacy as a thank you gift for his woman?

Sofia smugly took the gun, playing with it in her hands, the barrel casually sweeping past my face. "Oh, it's a little heavy. Thank you, Viola. I'll take good care of it."

In that split second, everything changed.

A red laser dot cut through the smoke and settled on Gavin’s forehead.

"Sniper!"

Gavin’s reaction was terrifyingly fast.

But he didn't dive for me.

He spun around, shielding Sofia with his entire body, kicking over the table for cover.

And I, in my white silk dress, was left completely exposed. A beacon in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. A perfect target.

CRACK!

A bullet shattered the glass, whizzing past my ear and embedding itself in the wall behind me. Shards of glass sliced my cheek, and I felt warm blood trickle down.

If I hadn't instinctively bent down to grab my purse, that bullet would've taken my head off.

The room erupted into chaos as bodyguards stormed in.

Gavin finally looked up. After making sure Sofia was unharmed, his eyes frantically found me.

When he saw the blood on my face, his eyes went wide with terror.

"Viola!" He started to rush toward me.

"Stay back."

I stood up straight, not even bothering to wipe away the blood. That bullet didn't kill me, but it killed the last bit of love I had for Gavin.

I turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

I went home and pulled out the divorce papers from the bottom of my drawer.

Maybe I should have done this a long time ago.

I found Sofia.

"You see how dangerous the position of Mrs. Whitestone is," I said, my voice chillingly calm. "Since you want it so badly, we can make a deal."

Sofia looked at me warily. "What do you mean?"

"I want a divorce. You get him to sign these papers, and the title, the power, the man himself—all of it can be yours."

Greed flashed in Sofia's eyes.

"Are you crazy? Gavin will never agree."

"I know you have your ways, don't you?" I leaned in, whispering seductively. "This is your only chance to take my place. If I ask, he'll say no out of pride. You only get your shot once I'm gone..."

Sofia was a smart, wicked woman. She understood.

That night, she came to me in the guest room.

She handed me a file, her face lit with a joy she couldn't hide. "I did it. Don't you go back on your word."

I took the divorce agreement.

At the bottom, Gavin’s signature was just as familiar as it was on our marriage certificate five years ago.

I felt a sharp, tearing pain in my chest, but also, a sense of release.

I called an encrypted number and arranged for a new identity.

After hanging up, I got ready to go to my lawyer’s office.

Gavin saw me on his way downstairs, his voice laced with a clumsy attempt at appeasement.

"Going out? Viola, did you get that cut on your face looked at? Let me call a doctor… And don't worry, as soon as the baby is born, I'll send Sofia away. We can start over."

He thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd be just like the last two times, that if he just bowed his head a little, I'd come running back.

I looked at the man I had once loved so deeply. He was handsome, powerful, the king of the New York underworld, yet he seemed so blind and pathetic in that moment.

"I'm going to my lawyer's office, to handle some... property matters," I lied, tucking the divorce papers into a stack of unimportant documents.

"I'll take you," Gavin said immediately. "I have to go out anyway, it's on the way."

Before we left, he made a detour to Sofia's room.

"You just rest. I have to step out for a bit, I'll be back soon," his voice was so soft it could have been water, and he gently patted her barely-there baby bump through the blanket.

I stood at the door, watching coldly.

The car moved through the bustling streets of Manhattan.

The silence in the car was deafening. Gavin, seemingly unable to stand it, tried to break it.

"Viola, remember this street?" He pointed to a French restaurant. "Our first date was there. My father was against us, said the Rossi family had fallen and wasn't good enough for the Whitestones. But I pulled my gun at the meeting, pointed it at the table, and told them if you weren't the Godfather's wife, I wouldn't be the Godfather."

He turned to me, his eyes full of emotion, trying to take my hand. "I swore that day I'd make you the happiest woman in the world."

I pulled my hand back.

"Yes," I said, looking at the passing scenery, my voice flat. "That Gavin would have fought the world for me. The Gavin of today nearly got me killed by a sniper."

Gavin's face stiffened.

"That was an accident, Viola. The situation was critical…"

Just then, his phone rang.

A special ringtone. It was Sofia.

Gavin glanced at me, hesitated for a second, but answered.

"Gavin! Help me… sob… I had a nightmare, there was blood everywhere… my stomach hurts so bad…" Sofia's panicked screams tore through the phone, loud enough for the whole car to hear.

Gavin's expression changed in an instant. All the nostalgia, guilt, and pleading vanished.

"Don't be scared, I'm on my way back!"

The screech of tires filled the air.

Gavin yanked the steering wheel, and the car stopped in the middle of the road. Outside, a torrential downpour had begun.

"Viola, get a cab to the lawyer's office," he said breathlessly as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Something's wrong with Sofia, it might be a miscarriage. I have to go back now."

We were on the expressway. There were no cabs here. The rain was so heavy you could barely see.

"Gavin, this is an expressway," I reminded him calmly. "You're just going to leave me here?"

"You're a grown woman, Viola! You can take care of yourself!" he yelled, his eyes filled with nothing but panic. "But Sofia only has me! If something happens to the baby, that's a life!"

That was his logic.

Because I was strong, I deserved to be abandoned. Because she was weak, she deserved everything.

"Fine."

I didn't argue. I opened the door and stepped out into the pouring rain.

I heard the engine roar behind me. Gavin's car made a sharp U-turn in the rain and sped off in Sofia's direction without a second thought, splashing muddy water all over me.

I stood in the rain, watching his red taillights disappear.

In that moment, Gavin Whitestone missed his last chance. If he had driven me just a little further, if he had glanced at the papers in my arms, he would have known I was leaving him for good.

But he didn't get that chance.

I walked three kilometers in the storm, arriving at the lawyer's office soaked to the bone.

"Mrs. Rossi, the proceedings have begun. Because of the assets involved, it will take about a month to finalize," the lawyer said, looking at me with pity. "You can still withdraw during this time."

"I won't need to," I said, signing my name. My fingers were cold, but my hand was steady. "The sooner, the better."

It was late when I returned to the villa.

I was burning up, my vision blurring. It was the start of a high fever. The long-term stress, combined with the storm, had finally broken me.

The villa was brightly lit.

As I passed the master bedroom, I heard Gavin’s gentle voice. He was reading a parenting book to the "traumatized" Sofia, his tone soft and full of wonder.

No one asked how long I had walked in the rain. No one asked why I was dripping wet.

I went back to my room and collapsed on the bed, too weak to even change.

Darkness washed over me. The fever made me delirious. In a daze, I thought I saw Death in a black robe, standing by my bed, beckoning to me.

Take me away, I thought. Get me out of this sickening place.

I didn't die.

When I woke up, the fever had broken, but my body felt heavy as lead.

Gavin was sitting by my bed, holding a wet towel. When he saw my eyes open, a look of panicked relief washed over his face.

"Thank God, Viola, you're finally awake," he said, his voice hoarse as he took my hand. "Last night I… I didn't know you were so sick. I saw you came back and went to sleep, I thought you were just tired."

Of course he didn't know. He was too busy playing the doting father.

I pulled my hand away, staring blankly at the ceiling. "What is it, Gavin?"

My distance seemed to unsettle him.

"I've prepared the private yacht," he said eagerly. "Let's go out on the water, just the two of us. Okay?"

"Gavin… can I come too?"

Sofia was standing timidly at the door, her eyes wide with longing. "I've never been on a yacht before… The doctor said getting some fresh air is good for the baby."

She knew Gavin couldn't refuse her.

As expected, Gavin hesitated, then looked at me, torn. "Can we take Sofia? I promise, she won't get in our way."

I turned my head away, saying nothing.

I knew he was lying.

Sure enough, once we were on the yacht, Sofia whined that she wanted to try driving the speedboat. Gavin immediately gave her his full attention, teaching her step-by-step.

I sat alone at the stern.

"Slower, be careful," his voice drifted to me on the wind. "See? It's easy. You're a fast learner."

Sofia giggled, deliberately pressing herself into his arms. "Oh, it's so hard, my hands are too weak."

I couldn't watch them flirt anymore. I stood up and walked to the side of the boat.

I didn't see the malicious glint in Sofia's eyes behind me.

"Oops!" Sofia's hand "slipped," and the steering wheel jerked violently.

CRASH!

The side of the yacht slammed into the metal base of a buoy. The massive impact sent the boat lurching sideways.

It didn't capsize, but the jolt was enough to throw anyone off balance.

Sofia and I both lost our footing and fell from the open side into the sea.

The icy water swallowed me whole.

As I struggled to surface, my leg cramped from the lingering effects of my illness. The sharp pain made it impossible to swim.

"Help! Gavin!" Sofia screamed and thrashed in the water not far from me, even though she was wearing a life jacket and couldn't possibly sink.

I, on the other hand, had no life jacket. I was sinking.

Gavin jumped in without hesitation.

"My stomach! Gavin, the baby!" Sofia cried out.

Gavin paused in the water for a second.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with apology and anguish.

Then, he turned and swam furiously towards Sofia.

I'm sorry, Viola. You know how to swim, you can hold on. She's pregnant.

I could almost hear his thoughts.

Seawater filled my nose and burned my lungs.

I stopped struggling.

Through the shimmering surface of the water, I took one last look at the man I married. He was lifting Sofia, holding her like a priceless treasure as he passed her to the bodyguards on the rescue boat. He didn't even turn back to see if I had surfaced.

This was my husband.

The man I had loved for ten years.

I closed my eyes and let my body sink into the dark, cold depths.

So be it.

Let the Viola who loved Gavin drown.

If I survived this, the woman who climbed out of this sea would be the monster he’d created.