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.

The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my nose.

I opened my eyes, not to hell, but to Gavin's exhausted and anxious face.

The moment he saw I was awake, his eyes lit up, only to be replaced by a deeper turmoil.

"Thank God, you're awake," Gavin said, reaching out to touch my forehead.

I turned my head away. His hand froze in mid-air.

"Now that you're awake, Viola, I need you to do something for me," his voice was raspy, laced with a hint of a plea—or maybe it was a command.

I stared at him, the phantom pain of water still in my lungs. I had almost died, and he wasn't even asking if I was okay, just asking for a favor?

"Sofia's not doing well," Gavin said quickly, as if afraid I'd refuse. "The impact from the fall caused internal bleeding in her abdomen. The baby is unstable. We need to operate immediately."

"There are plenty of surgeons in this hospital," I said coldly, my voice like gravel.

"She doesn't trust them! She's been screaming that they'll kill her baby." Gavin grabbed my shoulders, his grip so tight it hurt. "She only trusts you, Viola. You're the best surgeon in New York, and you're my wife. You wouldn't harm the Whitestone heir, would you?"

I looked at him in disbelief.

He left me to die in shark-infested waters to save that woman.

And now he wanted me, who had just been dragged back from death's door, to save the mistress who tried to kill me?

"And if I don't?"

"Viola!" Gavin’s face darkened, his voice taking on the weight of the Godfather. "This is your duty to the Whitestone family. Stop being difficult. Once this child is born, once we have an heir, this will all be over. Sofia will be gone, and we'll go back to how we were, just the two of us. I swear it."

Go back?

Back to the time I foolishly believed he was loyal to me?

I was practically dragged to the operating room by Gavin.

I held the cold scalpel in my hand.

My hand was steady—a professional instinct, even though my body was so weak I could barely stand.

Sofia lay on the table, unconscious from the anesthesia.

As the nurse cut away her gown, revealing her chest, my scalpel stopped dead.

Just below her collarbone, near her heart, was a black tattoo.

It was a blooming black rose entwined with a dagger—the sigil of the Whitestone matriarch.

Only the Godfather's official wife was worthy of that mark.

When Gavin proposed, he had asked me to get it. I was afraid of the pain and refused. He told me it was okay, that he would never do anything to hurt me, and that having my name engraved on his heart was enough.

But now…

"Dr. Rossi?" an assistant asked, looking at me with confusion.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.

"Hemostat."

The surgery lasted two hours. I worked like a precision machine—cutting, suturing, stopping the bleeding. I wasn't saving her. I was honoring my oath as a doctor.

"The surgery was a success. Mother and child are stable."

The moment I said those words, the doors to the OR were thrown open.

Gavin rushed in. He didn't even glance at me. He went straight to Sofia's bedside, gripping her hand, his eyes red with relief, like a man who'd just pulled his entire world back from the brink.

"You did great, Sofia, you're so strong…" he murmured, as if the screaming woman had been the one fighting for her life on the table.

I leaned against the wall, trying to walk out, but my legs gave out and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

The loud thud didn't even make him turn around.

Before I lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was Gavin gently stroking Sofia's stomach.

…

I woke up again in a regular ward.

I was still alone.

A nurse was at the foot of my bed, updating a chart. She glanced at me with a flicker of pity that made my stomach turn. The whole hospital knew the Godfather had nearly killed his wife for his mistress.

"Mrs. Rossi, we need to update your admission form," the nurse said, handing me a pen. "We need to confirm your emergency contact and marital status."

I took the form.

In the "Spouse" field, the name "Gavin Whitestone" was pre-printed.

I picked up the pen and, with all my strength, drew a thick, black line through his name.

Then, beside it, I wrote, letter by letter:

NONE.

Just then, the door opened.

Gavin walked in, carrying a thermos, his face wearing that sickening mask of devotion.

He saw the form in my hand, and his smile froze.

"What are you doing?" Gavin's voice turned cold as a winter sea.

I looked up, handed the form to the nurse, my eyes as still and dead as a frozen lake.

"Just correcting a mistake."