I was eight months pregnant when I walked into the club my husband, Damien, frequented.

The heat inside was suffocating, like a steam room; the air conditioning must have been on the fritz.

I wanted to duck into the adjacent, temperature-controlled wine cellar to cool off.

The other patrons were suffering, too, murmuring for someone to open the cellar door and let some cool air into the club.

But his mistress, a dancer named Lilith, blocked my path.

“Ma'am, please don’t,” she whimpered. “I have cramps. The cold will kill me.”

Panic set in; the suffocating heat could be dangerous for my unborn child.

I shot her a look, said nothing, and simply ordered my bodyguards to open the cellar door.

Damien stormed in that evening, his face a mask of fury.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? Lilith is in the emergency room with severe cramps because you left that cellar door open for forty minutes!"

"Are you kidding me, Damien?" I shot back. "I know what cramps feel like. If I'd gotten heatstroke, two lives would have been on the line. Have you lost your mind?"

Damien smirked and nodded. "You're right. My mistake."

That night, he soothed me to sleep with the same gentle touch as always.

But when I woke up, I found myself in an industrial meat locker.

Frozen carcasses hung all around me. Outside the glass, Damien had his arm around Lilith's waist, sneering at me.

"Scared of the heat? Don't worry. I'll give you a real chance to cool off."

My heart sank, but I calmly pulled out my phone and took pictures of every single person watching from outside.

Then, I made a call. "Papa, I don't want these people to see tomorrow's sunrise."

————————

1

After I hung up, a dead silence fell outside the meat locker.

Then, a thunderous burst of laughter erupted.

"Alessia, your father Lorenzo died in a car crash six months ago. Did the cold scramble your brain, or have you actually gone insane?"

"Exactly. Still think you're the Moretti principessa? Dream on."

Damien savored the taunts from his men, his eyes brimming with satisfaction as he gently draped a lavish fur coat over Lilith's shoulders.

He pulled her into his arms and slowly strode toward me.

His index finger tapped lightly on the glass in front of me.

"Alessia, are you cold? Have you learned your lesson?"

The industrial thermometer on the wall read negative fifty degrees Fahrenheit.

I was wearing only a thin silk nightgown, shivering uncontrollably.

My feet were bare on the frosted ground, my skin already turning a purplish-black and numb from the cold.

Sharp, stabbing pains shot up from the soles of my feet.

I stumbled to the glass and slammed my fist against it.

"Damien, what did I do wrong?! The club was an oven. Was I wrong to cool off in the wine cellar? Pregnant women can't overheat! A heatstroke would have cost two lives!"

The sudden outburst sent a sharp pain through my lower abdomen.

I quickly clutched my belly and slowly crouched down.

I glared at him, my eyes bloodshot.

"Damien, let me out. You know how much I've suffered for this child. He is the first heir to our family. I can't lose him!"

A complex emotion flickered in Damien's eyes.

He knew better than anyone what we had endured for this child.

An assassination attempt years ago had left Damien severely injured and unable to have children.

For eight long years, I had endured thousands of injections with a needle that felt as long as my arm for egg retrieval.

And now, after all that, we finally had this child.

For eight months, I had carefully protected this pregnancy.

He'd once broken a maid's leg just for bringing me milk that wasn't warm enough.

Now, for Lilith's supposed period cramps, he had locked me in a meat locker without a second thought.

A bitter coldness welled up in my heart. I was about to speak again.

But Lilith let the fur coat slip from her shoulders, her sobs devolving into a pitiful whisper.

"Damien, please, let her out. She's a principessa; she can't handle this. It's not like she's a girl from the streets, like me. I could freeze to death and I wouldn't dare complain..."

Freezing to death?

I had only been in the wine cellar for a little over half an hour.

When I left the club, Lilith was still laughing with her friends, making plans to go party that night!

I was about to expose her.

Damien's face instantly turned grim, his voice as cold as ice.

"You heard her. Get in there and rip that nightgown off her. A pampered principessa, is she? Let's give her a taste of the street life!"

He bent down and picked up the coat.

As he gently draped it over Lilith, his icy gaze landed on me.

"You can come out when you've learned your lesson! The doctor said my son is perfectly healthy. Don't you dare use him as an excuse to get out of this!"

With that, he swept Lilith up into his arms.

His voice practically dripped with tenderness and adoration.

"Baby, you're unwell. You shouldn't be on your feet. You're staying right here in my arms, and I'd like to see anyone try and say otherwise."

The moment Damien sat down with Lilith in his arms, several men charged toward me with predatory grins.

I clutched the torn collar of my nightgown, curling up in a corner.

But what could a pregnant woman's strength possibly do against several burly men?

A sharp rip echoed as the thin silk was torn to shreds.

In an instant, the frigid air felt like countless needles piercing every pore of my body.

They laughed, their eyes gleaming, as they tore the rest of the nightgown from my body.

On their way out, they gave Damien a lewd grin.

"Boss, you're a lucky man. Your wife's got a hell of a body..."

"Thanks, Boss, for giving us this chance to take care of the Principessa!"

Clad only in my underwear, I curled up on the frosted ground.

My warm skin fused to the ice, and the slightest movement tore a piece of flesh away.

An excruciating pain shot from the wounds straight to my heart.

Crimson blood seeped from the torn skin.

It was a glaring crimson against the stark white of the freezer.

Damien saw it, too. He set Lilith down and strode toward the glass.

Watching the trail of blood slowly creep toward his feet, he was about to speak.

But Lilith ran up from behind.

Through the glass, she pretended to caress the bloodstain with concern, her voice trembling.

"Alessia, just admit you were wrong. All of Damien's men are here. If you don't apologize, you're putting him in an impossible position..."

I stared daggers at Lilith.

"Why should I admit I was wrong! In the cellar that day, I saw you enjoying the cool air. Weren't you just making plans with your friends to go to Miami—"

Hearing my words, a flicker of suspicion entered Damien's eyes as he looked at Lilith.

But before I could finish, Lilith slapped herself hard across the face.

Then she dropped to her knees with a thud.

She grabbed Damien's hand, her voice trembling. "Damien! I can't watch her suffer like this. If she won't admit she's wrong, then I'll kneel out here with her!"

The moment Lilith knelt, that trace of suspicion in Damien's eyes vanished.

He quickly bent down to help her up.

Then, he turned to me, his eyes filled with disgust.

"Alessia, you are spoiled rotten. Lilith has put up with you for years, and now, when you're clearly the one in the wrong, she has to suffer with you just to save my face? You don't deserve her loyalty!"

"Today, I'm going to cure you of that pampered princess attitude! If you don't admit you're wrong, you're not getting out of there!"

With that, he waved a hand at the men behind him.

"Go, move some frozen meat in there and wall her in with it! Then pour some water on her so she sticks to that meat for good!"

The moment Damien finished speaking, a young soldato named Marco stepped forward and tugged on his sleeve.

"Boss, adding water to frozen meat will act like glue, sticking to her skin. Every move will tear a piece of flesh off. Boss... she's about to give birth. I'm afraid this could..."

Damien's commanding gesture paused mid-air.

As he stood there in silence, a weak moan came from Lilith behind him.

"Damien, just let it go. It wasn't as bad as you think when I was in the emergency room..."

Lilith's words made Damien's eyes turn brutally cold.

His hand, which had paused in mid-air, dropped abruptly. "Do exactly as I said!" he commanded, his voice colder than the ice around me.