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."

Gavin didn't explode over the form.

He tried to stroke my hair. "Are you still angry about what happened? I already explained, it was because of the baby…"

I dodged his touch, cutting him off.

Gavin sighed and pulled out a velvet box.

Inside lay a dazzling diamond necklace, the star piece from last month's Sotheby's auction.

"Stop it, Viola." Gavin fastened the necklace around my neck. The cold gems felt like a snake against my skin. "This is your reward. Thank you for saving Sofia. You're the most understanding wife."

I didn't refuse, nor did I show any of the joy his gifts used to bring me. I just nodded silently.

I had less than a month left.

I didn't want any more trouble before I could leave.

"I'm tired. I want to go home."

Gavin, thinking I had given in, let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, the driver is downstairs. I have to stay here tonight to watch over Sofia, she hasn't woken up yet."

I returned to our marital home alone.

The moment I walked in, I took off the necklace and threw it into a packing box, along with all the other jewelry, designer bags, and custom gowns Gavin had ever given me.

I didn't want this trash.

I started erasing every trace of myself from the house. Photos, my toothbrush, the book I was halfway through… I was going to make it so Gavin Whitestone could never find a single trace of Viola Rossi in his life again.

The next morning, just as I threw out the last box, the front door was kicked open with a violent crash.

Gavin stormed in.

He was no longer the tender husband from yesterday. He was an erupting volcano.

"What have you done, Viola?!" Gavin growled, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt like it would crush my bones.

I grunted in pain.

"If you're here to have a meltdown, please leave," I said, looking at him coldly.

"A meltdown?" Gavin sneered, pulling a blood-stained plastic bag from his pocket and throwing it on the floor. "Look at this!"

Inside was a delicate emerald brooch.

I had lost it last week. It was Gavin's gift for our third anniversary.

"Last night, there was an attempt on Sofia's life," Gavin's voice was a terrifying whisper, each word ground out from between his teeth. "The assassin was from the Ricci family. He almost killed her! And this brooch was found in his pocket!"

"Why was your property on him? I need an explanation."

I looked at his contorted face and found it laughable.

Framed. Such a clumsy setup. Sofia couldn't even be bothered to come up with a clever plot because she knew that when it came to her and the baby, Gavin would turn into an idiot.

"If I wanted her dead, I would have done it on the operating table. I wouldn't have waited until now," I explained calmly, even though I knew it was useless.

"You're just pissed that I forced you into surgery! So you want revenge!" Gavin refused to listen, his reason consumed by rage. "Viola, when did you become so vicious? Colluding with a rival family just to get my attention?"

"I didn't."

"Enough!" Gavin let go, and I slumped to the floor. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Viola, as the Godfather, I have to answer to the family. Betrayal must be punished."

I was locked in the Whitestone family's solitary confinement cell.

No windows, no light, just endless, cold darkness.

"Just for two days, Viola. I want you to think about what you've done," Gavin said coldly before leaving without a backward glance.

I curled up in a corner, my consciousness drifting in the dark.

On the third night, I smelled something burning.

Then, thick smoke began to pour in from under the door.

Fire.

Someone was trying to burn me alive.

"Gavin… help me…" Survival instinct made me fumble for the tiny backup phone hidden in the sole of my shoe. It was my last resort.

My trembling fingers dialed the number I knew by heart.

Ring… ring…

It connected.

"Gavin, help me… there's a fire…" I rasped into the phone, using my last bit of strength.

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Then, a sweet, malicious female voice answered.

"Oh, is that you, Viola?"

It was Sofia.

My heart seized.

"Where's Gavin? Put him on the phone! I'm in the cell, it's on fire!"

"Gavin?" Sofia giggled, and I could hear the faint clink of a spoon against a ceramic bowl in the background. "He's in the kitchen. He said he doesn't trust the store-bought prenatal supplements, so he's brewing some for me himself. It's so sweet of him, isn't it?"

"Tell him… I'm going to die…"

Sofia's voice turned venomous. "You shouldn't have gotten in my way. Rest in peace. I'll be sure to love him for the both of us."

The line went dead.

In that moment, a despair hotter than the flames consumed me.

Thick smoke filled my lungs. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face.

Gavin, you are so… so cruel.

I didn’t die.

My father’s old, loyal bodyguard broke through the fire and carried me out.

As I lay on the lawn, gasping for air, I saw Gavin sprinting towards me like a madman.

"Viola!"

Seeing my soot-covered face and singed clothes, the color drained from his face.

"How did a fire start? Who did this?! Find them! Find them now!" he roared, then fell to his knees beside me like a helpless child, wanting to hold me but afraid to touch the burnt edges of my dress.

"I'm sorry… Viola, I didn't know… I didn't hear the phone…" his voice trembled.

I closed my eyes, exhausted. Even looking at him felt filthy.

Just then, Sofia came stumbling over, innocent tears on her face. "Oh my god, is Viola okay? It's all my fault. I was having terrible morning sickness, and Gavin was busy taking care of me, his phone was on silent… sob… I almost got you killed…"

Gavin immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into his arms. "It's not your fault, Sofia. Don't cry, you'll stress the baby."

I pushed myself up from the grass, shakily getting to my feet.

Seeing me stand, Gavin pulled a gun from his waistband and forced it into my hand.

"Viola, it was my fault. I shouldn't have locked you up. If you're angry, shoot me." He grabbed my hand, pressing the muzzle against his own chest. "Just like before. Anything to make you feel better."

He was using that trick again.

Before, I would have cried, thrown the gun down, and hugged him.

But now, I just looked at the gun in my hand, feeling its absurd weight.

I let go.

Thud.

The gun fell to the grass.

"Get out," I said, my voice quiet but filled with all the strength I had left. "Take your woman and get out of my sight."

Gavin froze. He had never seen me look at him with such coldness, like he was a complete stranger.

"Viola…"

I turned and walked away, ignoring his calls.

I spent a week recovering.

Gavin called countless times, but I refused to see him.

But as the Godfather’s wife, I had to attend the Whitestone family dinner.

When I arrived, Sofia was already there, sitting next to Gavin’s mother, Nonna.

Nonna was lovingly stroking Sofia’s stomach, looking pleased.

The moment she saw me, her smile vanished.

"As the wife of the Godfather, you arrive late. What kind of example is that?" she said, not hiding her disdain. "Sofia is the sensible one, knowing what's important—giving the Whitestone family an heir."

Gavin stood beside me, cutting her off. "Mother, Viola hasn't been well. I told her she could come late."

I didn't appreciate his defense.

I let out a cold laugh.

"It was Gavin who begged me to marry into this family," I said, looking Nonna straight in the eye. "And it was your son who swore to me that even without a child, I would be his only wife. He said he didn't want a child to take away his love for me."

I turned to Gavin. "Isn't that right, Gavin?"

Gavin looked down, unable to meet my eyes or his mother's.

"That was before he was bewitched by a little fox like you!" Nonna swung her cane, about to hit me. "Since you won't have a child, then get out! Let Sofia be the matriarch!"

The scene devolved into chaos.

Just then, Sofia, who had somehow ended up beside me, let out a gasp.

She was standing on the edge of a short flight of stairs. In front of everyone, she threw herself backward dramatically.

I was the closest person to her, but I hadn't touched her.

"Ah! Viola, don't—"

Sofia screamed as she tumbled down the three steps, clutching her stomach as she hit the floor. "My stomach… it hurts…"

"Sofia!" Gavin rushed to her side.

Nonna, trembling with rage, stormed up to me and slapped me hard across the face.

SMACK!

The sound echoed through the hall. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood.

"You venomous bitch! How dare you harm my grandchild!"

A dead silence fell over the room. All the bodyguards, all the servants, were staring at me. Gavin, holding Sofia, looked up at me with utter disappointment. "Viola, you've disappointed me more than I can say."

Disappointed?

I wiped the blood from my lip. My cheek was on fire, but my heart felt clearer than ever.

I walked step by step towards Sofia, who was still playing the victim in Gavin’s arms.

She looked up as I approached, a flash of triumph in her eyes.

"Since you're all so sure I pushed her."

I suddenly bent down, grabbed a fistful of Sofia's hair, and as she shrieked in terror, I yanked her out of Gavin’s arms and shoved her hard into a nearby stone pillar.

THUD!

This time, the impact was real. Blood bloomed on her forehead.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Gavin roared, trying to get up.

I had already stepped back, looking coldly at his entire family.

"This time, I did it."

I reached up and tore the heirloom necklace, the symbol of the Whitestone matriarch, from my neck.

I held it up high.

And then I smashed it onto the marble floor.

CRASH!

The priceless gems shattered into a thousand pieces, just like my ten years with Gavin. Broken beyond repair.

All the noise stopped.

Gavin stared blankly at the glittering dust on the floor.

I turned my back on the wreckage, my spine straight.

I didn't look back. I just left them with my final words.

"Gavin, I want a divorce."