I could see Wisley looking at me with a small grin, holding out a piece of chocolate he had stolen from the convenience store.

"Don't tell me you still have doubts about us," he said, his eyes full of his signature confidence.

I accepted the chocolate, even though I knew we shouldn't be here. We had a darker world to live in-a world that demanded we trust no one.

But back then, I wanted to think that Wisley was an exception. That maybe, just maybe, with him I could find something more than just survival.

"If I leave," I whispered, "will you come with me?"

He didn't answer. Just smiled faintly before pulling me into his warm embrace.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that all of this was real.

However, the memories suddenly fell apart. His warm gaze turned cold. His smile faded away. In an instant, the sweet chocolate in my hand turned into a gun pressed against my forehead.

"Why, Wisley?"

I jerked awake.

Sunlight streamed through the small window of this cheap room, piercing my eyes.

Breathing heavily, cold sweat beaded down my neck. My chest rose and fell rapidly, as if my lungs refused to accept that I was still alive.

The pain in my arm was still there—sharp and piercing. My lips were dry, my body limp.

But that's not what's bothering my mind right now.

The damn dream!

I take a deep breath.

Hormones. It must just be the pregnancy hormones.

I'm not an emotional person. I've survived this far with a cool head, running away from their pursuit, suppressing all the fear and pain as if it wasn't mine.

But now?

I suddenly feel... homesick.

Stupid.

My hand touches my still-flat stomach. I couldn't feel him yet, but I knew he was there. The little heart that beats at the same time as mine.

Wisley's child.

Was I supposed to tell him?

I bite my lip. I knew this was a bad idea. Wisley wasn't someone I could trust. Not after everything that happened. Not after I saw him with Rachel.

But still...

I reach into the bag on the side of the bed, pulling out the disposable cell phone I keep for emergencies.

This wasn't an emergency. I knew that.

But why did I still turn it on?

My hands tremble as I type in a number I don't even need to see anymore. I could just throw this phone away right now, go back to my plan, disappear without a trace like I should. But my fingers are already moving faster than my brain.

The first ring.

I can turn it off now. I can still-

Second ring.

Shit.

Third ring.

I hold my breath.

Click.

Someone picked it up.

My words tumbled out without me being able to stop them. "Wisley, I'm carrying your child-"

The female laughter on the other side sounded light, almost playful, but enough to make my entire body tense up.

It wasn't Wisley who picked up the call.

"Cassie, dear... do you really want to tell him?"

Rachel.

My blood froze.

My hand gripped the phone tighter.

"Where's Wisley?" my voice was hoarse.

"Taking a shower," she replied casually. "Should I tell him to come out?"

I held my breath.

Rachel giggled. "I want to confess something to you. I actually never carried Wisley's child. I only said that so he wouldn't kill me. I loved him. I didn't want him to leave. And you know what's even funnier? We met a month ago... alcohol makes things easier, you know?"

I felt something hit my chest.

"You're lying."

Rachel giggled again. "The funny thing is, Wisley believed me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"He said you're not like me," Rachel sighed contentedly. "Not as pretty as me. Not as graceful as me. He could never even imagine you wearing a dress like me. Oh, and one more thing..."

I heard her sly laughter before she lowered her voice.

"I still remember the look on his face when he saw the photos of you and Max Nolan."

I gripped the phone tighter. "What...?"

Rachel laughed. "That photo was very real, Cassie. Do you know how easy it is to make a man like him believe?"

I hung up instantly, throwing the phone across the room as if it could erase the fact that I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

I shouldn't have called.

***

Three days and three nights I've been hiding in this hotel while waiting for my body condition to improve, but I need to see the situation outside.

Finally, tonight I forced myself out. I wore a black hoodie, hiding my face as far as possible.

As I walked through the city, slipping into dark alleys, something made me stop.

It was a flyer taped to the corner of a wall.

My blood froze.

My face.

Big and clear.

And next to it, Wisley's face.

"Fugitive," it said in large letters. "Dangerous. Report if you see them."

I bit my lip. No wonder the streets felt more dangerous tonight. Not just the police, but the underworld was after me.

Max Nolan has connections with the higher-ups. As long as I was a member of the group, the police would turn a blind eye to the crimes Nolan ordered.

But now? Nolan considers me a traitor. That means I'm not only being hunted by the law, but also by bounty hunters who want to extract a huge reward from Nolan.

They want my head. They want Wisley's too.

But I knew the difference.

They wanted Wisley alive.

They wanted me dead.

I took a deep breath, stroking my still flat stomach.

No one can catch me.

I must continue to survive.

But just as I turned into a dark alley to head for the secret locker storing my spare weapons, something else caught my eye-a group of men stood in the corner, talking in low tones.

Their gazes were directed at me, and then I realized something that made my heart beat faster.

They weren't just looking.

They recognized me.

Before I could react, a hand grabbed my arm from behind.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Look who's still breathing," the voice mocked.

I didn't recognize them. But I knew that they weren't Thomas's men, probably crazier people-bounty executors or bounty hunters.

"Max Nolan wants you taken dead or alive," one of them approached, the muzzle of a gun pointed at my forehead. "But if you resist, we can have some fun first, right?"

I didn't answer. I waited.

When he was close enough, I made my move.

My hand snatched the gun, twisting his wrist in the wrong direction. He screamed as he heard a crack. Quickly, I thrust the knife into his stomach, twisting roughly before pulling it out.

Blood spurted onto my face. He staggered, then fell.

"Damn it, she killed Hector," one of them hissed.

I didn't have time to process the incident when someone slammed into my stomach from the side.

Something worse happened.

Excruciating pain radiated through my body. I screamed.

Then, everything went dark.

But before I lost consciousness completely, I heard something.

"Are we taking him to Max Nolan?" someone asked.

"No," another voice replied.

I felt my hands being cuffed.

Then, the voice came again.

"Our mission isn’t just to capture her. Frances wants to make sure she loses the baby first."

My blood froze.

Rachel.

This was all her doing.

But before I could process everything, another voice spoke-colder, more menacing.

"She killed one of Nostra's men. Let's just turn her over to Stilliam."

I knew that name.

Anyone who worked in the underworld would know Stilliam's name.

I woke up not to pain, but to the sound of approaching footsteps—rhythmic, steady, and eerie.

I tried to move, but my body was restricted by the chains that bound my wrists and legs.

The sound grew closer, then the door opened with a bang, letting a sharp light hit my eyes.

I looked up, trying to focus on the figure that appeared in the doorway.

A man stood there, his body erect and his aura of power so strong it almost felt like physical pressure.

I knew who he was.

Stilliam Albert Nostra.

Compared to Thomas-no-not even compared to Max Nolan... this man was far more dangerous.

His name alone was enough to make anyone in the underworld tremble in fear. The leader of the Nostra family, who was said to have no qualms about taking out anyone who got in his way.

He was known not only as a mobster, but also a king who ruled the dark world with cruelty and deceit.

His sharp eyes looked at me with an unreadable expression.

"So, you killed Hector?" His voice was low and firm, as if the question was just a formality. "Cassie Moonstone. The traitor who managed to get everyone's attention."

He approached, his steps calm and powerful, as if this underworld belonged to him.

I tried to look at him, even though I was bound and full of wounds. Cold sweat ran down my forehead, but I tried not to show my fear.

If there's one thing I've learned from this world, it's to endure pretending not to be afraid of people who should be afraid of you.

But then I realized.

Something was wrong with my body.

My lower abdomen felt empty. Not just the pain of torture, but deeper than that-it was as if a part of me had simply disappeared.

My bound hands reflexively clenched into fists. Memories began to return like shards of glass piercing my mind.

Blood.

I remember the blood.

I remember the pain that radiated so violently before I lost consciousness.

I remember how I held my stomach, how fear wrapped my body as I knew something precious was being taken away from me.

I lost my child.

My chest tightened, as if my lungs refused to function. I wanted to scream, wanted to curse the world, wanted to let this grief out in any way.

But I couldn't.

I was still bound. Still in his presence.

Stilliam assessed me from top to bottom, like a predator observing its prey before tearing it apart.

"I didn't kill him on purpose," I said hoarsely, trying to defend myself.

Stilliam laughed softly, as if hearing an unfunny joke. "Then what makes you feel like someone worth living for?" he asked in a sharp tone.

I looked at him deeply. Horror began to creep into me.

"I was just defending myself from the person who tried to kill me. I can't just stand by when someone is ready to point a gun at me."

Stilliam looked at me, then smiled faintly-a smile that didn't make me feel safe. "You're interesting, Cassie Moonstone. Not many people can escape from the underworld with so many people wanting to kill you."

I swallowed.

Of all the things that happened, of all the losses I experienced, this is what he still cares about?

"I could kill you right now," he said, walking closer. "But I won't."

Then what will you do to me?

The question was stuck in my throat, but Stilliam had already answered it first.

"You have two choices, Cassie Moonstone," he said softly, but clearly. "Marry me... or die."

My blood almost froze when I heard those words.

I stared at the man I feared the most, hoping that I had just misheard. But no. His gaze remained cold, sharp, as if he had just offered a non-negotiable business deal.

I should have prepared myself mentally for the worst—torture, interrogation, even execution. But marriage?

I chuckled, bitterly, more to myself. "You're joking, right?"

Stilliam didn't answer right away. He simply crouched in front of me, his cold fingers outstretched, lifting my chin gently. The touch felt like another shackle on my body.

"I never joke," he said softly, almost a whisper.

My heart beat so fast that I feared he could hear it.

I could see his eyes more closely now-black, deep, mysterious. There was no sign of tenderness there. No hatred either. Just an attraction that made me feel even more trapped.

"I could kill you right now," he continued in a tone so calm it was as if he was discussing the weather. "But I won't."

I swallowed, trying to control my raging thoughts.

"Why?" I asked, trying to understand his game.

A faint smile was etched on his face. "Because I've been watching you for a long time, Cassie Moonstone."

I froze.

What do you mean?

Stilliam didn't answer directly. Instead, he stood up and walked around the chair I was tied to, like a tiger circling its prey.

"You caught my attention a long time ago," he finally said. "And now that you're here, I see this as an opportunity."

I felt as if I'd fallen into a trap I never even realized was there.

Marriage? To a man whose very name made the underworld tremble?

This wasn't a choice; this was an ultimatum.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and images of Wisley filled my head-his sweet promises, his soft words, then his betrayal.

I foolishly believed that he would marry me. But in the end, he went off with another woman, leaving me behind like trash that was no longer useful.

And now, another man offers marriage. Not with the promise of love. Not with happiness. But with threats.

I raised my face, looking at Stilliam with all the strength I had left in me.

"And if I refuse?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

Stilliam smiled, but that smile was anything but reassuring. "You know the answer, Cassie."

I bit my lip, trying to control the tremors in my body.

I lost my child.

I lost my future.

Now I have to lose my freedom too?

Do I really have a choice?

The first deaths I witnessed were those of my parents. They were shot dead in front of my eyes, slaughtered by the men who broke into our house. At that time, I was only five years old.

I didn’t remember everything clearly, just the sound of gunshots, screams, and blood running down the wooden floor. We had just moved into the house a few days before the tragedy happened. I knew no one, belonged to no one.

Years later, I lived by stealing food to survive. I wandered the streets, learning how the world worked in the most brutal of ways. Until I met Max Nolan.

Back then, I tried to break into his car—a stupid decision that would have killed me if he hadn’t seen something in me. Instead of finishing me off, he offered me something even more dangerous: a place in his pack.

I learned to fight, to kill, to survive. But deep down, I never wanted to be trapped in this dirty world forever. I just didn't have a choice.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

Back then, I thought I was used to losing-I thought I was numb. Until this day came. The day I felt the warmth inside my body disappear.

The day I lost my child.

I never got to see their face. Never got to hear their first cry.

All that was left was emptiness.

As if something inside me had been forcibly ripped out, leaving an emptiness nothing could fill.

And now, before me, stood a man far more dangerous than anyone I had ever met. Stilliam Albert Nostra.

Marrying him doesn’t just mean losing my freedom—it means being shackled for life. But dying is not an option either. Not now. Not before I finish what I started.

Not before I make Wisley and Rachel pay for what they’ve done.

I took a deep breath, calming myself. I must not falter. There was no time to cry. Not in front of this man.

So, I smiled-thinly, coldly, like someone considering an attractive offer.

"I didn't expect a man like you to be interested in someone like me," I said, trying to buy time.

Stilliam looked at me expressionlessly. "You underestimate yourself, Cassie."

I chuckled. "Or maybe I just don’t want to be deceived again."

His thin smile did not fade. "I'm not Wisley."

My heart sank. How did he know about Wisley?

Stilliam leaned in, too close for me to feel the heat of his breath. "I know more about you than you realize."

I refrained from reacting.

"Do you really want me to marry you, Stilliam?" I lifted my chin, looking at him straight on. "Or is this just another game to see how long I can last?"

His eyes narrowed, there was something there-interest, perhaps. He liked a challenge. He liked that I didn't immediately submit to him.

"You can think of it as a game," he said softly. "But remember, Cassie... I always win."

I clenched my fists. I wasn't going to let myself lose.

If I wanted to survive-if I wanted to get back at Wisley-I had to play this game better than anyone else.

I took a deep breath before uttering the words that would change my life forever.

"Alright." I smiled faintly. "I will marry you, Stilliam."

For now.

***

I thought Stilliam would give me time to adjust. I was wrong.

The next day, I was moved to a spacious room in the Nostra mansion. There were no more chains on my hands, but the guard was still tight. Two men stood outside the door, making sure I wouldn't go anywhere without permission.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was still Cassie Moonstone, but the reflection in front of me felt like a stranger.

I touched the locket around my neck-the only thing from my past that I still had.

My hands were shaking.

I should have worn this on my finger while holding my child. I shouldn't have been alone.

But in fact, I'm here. Alone. Again.

The door to my room opened without a knock. I didn't need to turn around to know who came. Stilliam.

"I hope you slept well," he said lightly.

I looked at him through the mirror. "No, I didn't. It was like sleeping in a nest of snakes."

He chuckled, stepping closer to stand directly behind me. I could see our reflections in the mirror—me, a bird in a golden cage, and him, the one holding the key.

"Our wedding will take place in a week."

I held my breath. That soon?

"You're in a hurry," I muttered.

"I don't like delaying things that are certain."

I wanted to laugh. Of course I did. In the world of Stilliam Albert Nostra, his wishes were the law.

I turned to face him, looking into his cold, controlling eyes. "Why me?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if not understanding my question.

"There were many women who wanted to be queen by your side. But you chose me-a woman who killed your men. That is not a reasonable choice."

Stilliam was silent for a moment, then bowed his head slightly, as if to reveal something.

"You're not just a choice," he finally said. "You're fate."

My heart skipped a beat.

Not because his words sounded romantic. But because I didn't know if it was a good or bad sign.

***

I didn't recognize the reflection in the mirror.

Normally, I only wear practical dark clothes-something that makes it easy for me to fight, escape, or kill.

But today, I was wearing a white satin dress.

I was the bride of a mafia king.

I touched the locket around my neck, gripping it tightly.

"If I can't be a mother to my child..."

I swallowed, holding back the sting that crept into my throat.

"At the very least, I can be someone strong enough to get back at them."

The sound of a knock on the door distracted me. But before I could answer, the door opened, and someone lunged at me with a sharp dagger.

I instantly moved, dodging the attack. This damn dress impeded my movement.

I barely dodged as the dagger slid swiftly towards my stomach.

My stomach.

The place where my child should be.

My reflexes moved faster than my mind—my hands shot up, protecting something that no longer existed. The emptiness hit me harder than any attack.

Until the sound of a gunshot woke me up.

The person collapsed in front of me, blood beginning to flood the marble floor.

"That dress looks good on you."

The cold voice made me turn my head.

Stilliam stood in the doorway, dressed in an elegant black suit, his eyes sharp as the dagger that almost killed me earlier.

He fiddled with the pistol in his hand as if nothing had happened. "It would be nice if there were no bloodstains. Clean this corpse," he continued to an aide next to him.

I snorted, trying to calm my breathing. "I'd prefer something that doesn't restrict my movements when I'm about to be killed."

Stilliam smiled a little, but there was something in his gaze that I couldn't quite decipher. "She was Hector's lover." His eyes stared at the corpse before me. "It won't happen again," he continued as he stepped closer.

I looked at him sharply. "Are you sure? I seem to have a lot of people who want to see me dead."

He raised his hand, touching the pendant around my neck with his fingers.

"I won't let that happen," he said softly.

My chest and throat felt tight.

I didn't know if it was because of the threat I'd just been through—or because of the way he said it, as if I were something precious.

But I couldn't let myself get trapped any further.

This marriage is a double-edged sword. I don't know what Stilliam wants from me. But I do know one thing-

I cannot die.

No, I won't.

I will avenge everything.

I will make sure Wisley feels the same pain—no, worse.

As much as I once loved him, I will avenge them, even if I have to sell my soul to the devil.

I wasn't afraid, because I had already lost all my precious possessions.

I lifted my chin. "Then, we have to make sure this wedding goes smoothly, don't we?"

Stilliam smiled wryly. "Oh, that's for sure, my wife."

My heart was racing.

Cassie Moonstone, you've just declared war.

And this war has just begun.