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."

Gavin Whitestone lost his mind.

He tracked me down to a small, hidden apartment that had belonged to my father.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three deafening gunshots.

Gavin stood in the doorway, his Beretta 92F smoking, pointed at the ceiling. His once-loving eyes were shot with red, like a gambler who had lost everything.

"Divorce? Don't even think about it!" he roared, stalking towards me until I was backed into a corner of the sofa. "Viola, you are a Whitestone. You're mine in life and in death. The only way you leave me is in a coffin!"

I looked at his madness, my expression unchanged.

"Then kill me," I said, looking up at him. "My heart already drowned in the sea."

Those words seemed to stab him. Gavin’s face twisted, then hardened into a darker threat.

"You want to die? Not that easy." He leaned in, one hand slamming against the wall by my head, the other gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You don't care about your own life, but what about the peace of your parents? Their graves are in the Westside cemetery. If you take one step away from me, I'll have them dug up and their ashes poured down the sewer."

The old me would have collapsed, crying and begging for mercy.

But I just stared at him, a flicker of pity in my eyes.

He didn't even know. A month ago, when I first planned to leave, I had my loyal old butler secretly move my parents' urns. The graves he was threatening were empty.

He mistook my silence for submission.

The violence in Gavin's eyes faded, replaced by a sick, twisted tenderness.

He dropped the gun and pulled me into a brutal hug, so tight it felt like he was trying to crush me into his bones.

"Don't make me do this, Viola… Don't push me," he buried his face in my neck, his voice trembling. "I can't live without you. You know I did all this for the family, for the baby. Just a few more months. Once Sofia has the child, I'll give her a pile of money and ship her off to Australia. You'll never see her again. Then we can start over, okay?"

I let him hold me, my body as stiff and cold as a stone.

Start over? You can glue a broken mirror back together, but it will only ever show you the cracks.

For the next few days, Gavin acted like we were back in the beginning. He played the part of the perfect husband, trying to pretend everything was fine.

He stopped visiting Sofia at the hospital and focused all his energy on "guarding" me.

He cooked me breakfast, burning the eggs but insisting on trying again the next day. He had truckloads of the latest couture delivered, stuffing my walk-in closet. He even pulled me close during a press interview, smiling for the cameras.

"Mr. Whitestone, we heard about a fire at your villa, and there are rumors of a rift in your marriage?" a reporter asked.

Gavin's arm tightened around my waist until I could barely breathe. He smiled charmingly for the camera and kissed the top of my head. "That's nonsense. My wife was just a little shaken up. I love her more than my own life. She is my one and only."

The flashes were blinding.

I forced a stiff smile.

In Gavin’s eyes, it was a sign I was softening.

Back at his office, he insisted on holding me in his lap while he went over the family's core finances.

"Look, Viola, these are the shipping routes for next quarter," he said, his chin resting on my shoulder. "I want you to manage them from now on. You always wanted to be more involved in the business, right?"

I said nothing, just mechanically flipped through the documents.

He was building a golden cage, trying to lock up a bird that was already dead.