Chapter 1

My son was killed in a horrific car bomb assassination.

At his rain-drenched funeral, my husband, Enzo—a Mafia Don—held an umbrella over my head, only to suddenly state with icy indifference:

"Gianna is pregnant. It's my blood."

Gianna. The illegitimate daughter of the Lucchese family boss.

I stiffened, looking up in sheer disbelief.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He cast a careless glance at me, completely unbothered.

"To end the war between the Corsica and Lucchese families, I've been with her in secret for a while now. Now that she carries the Corsica bloodline, I must give her a proper title. She will be moving into the estate tonight. You will not only accept this, but you will also give her the respect she deserves as the mother of my child."

...

Dressed in pure black mourning attire, I stood silently before the freshly dug, unsealed grave.

The name engraved on the headstone read: Leo Corsica.

My son, the sole heir to the Corsica syndicate, only seven years old.

Three days ago, he died in a car bombing. The blast was originally meant for all three of us.

The explosion was massive. I watched with my own eyes as the fireball devoured my child, leaving not even a complete body behind.

If I hadn't turned back to grab the teddy bear he left on the couch, my ashes would have joined his.

"Katerina."

Enzo. My husband, the current Don of the Corsica family.

I didn't turn my head, keeping my eyes locked on Leo's bright smile carved into the marble. "Did you find the killer?"

"Remnants of the Lucchese family," Enzo replied. "I've already sent men to clean it up. The matter ends here."

Ends here.

I closed my eyes, hiding the bitter mockery and ice within them.

After ten years of marriage, I knew this man too well.

When he used that unquestionable tone, it meant he was covering something up.

Just then, I turned and saw a woman walking up beside Enzo.

She was young, barely in her early twenties, with a pitiful, fragile look in her eyes.

But hidden beneath the gaze she directed at me was an unconcealed ambition and provocation.

Gianna. The illegitimate daughter of the Lucchese boss.

"Enzo..." she called out softly, her voice sickeningly sweet, as she naturally linked her arm through my husband's.

I watched them.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked.

Enzo pulled Gianna a little closer to his side, the gesture natural and fiercely protective.

He looked at me, speaking in the clinical tone of a boss notifying a subordinate: "Katerina, Leo is gone, and the family cannot be without an heir. That is the iron law of the Mafia."

"And?"

"Gianna is pregnant. It's my child." Enzo's eyes held not a shred of guilt; his self-righteousness was utterly repulsive. "To quell the war between the Corsica and Lucchese families, I've been seeing her in secret."

I looked at the man I had loved for a decade as if gazing at a complete stranger—a monster.

Ten years ago, we met.

Back then, he was just a nameless nobody on the run, collapsing in front of my apartment door, soaked in blood. I fought off the hitmen and dug the bullet out of his shoulder.

That night, he held my hand: "Katerina, when I conquer this empire, you will be my only Donna. I, Enzo Corsica, swear I will never betray you in this life."

Ten years later, he stood at our son's funeral, holding hands with a woman from a rival family, telling me he had long since betrayed me in secret and fathered a bastard.

"So, you decided that Leo's funeral was the best time to discuss your bastard child?" My lips curled into a mocking sneer.

"Katerina, don't be emotional." Enzo frowned slightly, clearly displeased with my attitude. "You are the Donna of the Corsica family. You need to see the bigger picture. After Gianna gives birth, I will announce to the world that it is your child. You will embrace her, and the child, in your capacity as Godmother."

"Embrace?" I laughed, as if I had just heard the greatest joke in the world. "You want me to embrace the daughter of a family of murderers? Accept a filthy, illegitimate bastard?"

"Sister, how can you say that?" Gianna obligingly reddened her eyes, shrinking against Enzo's chest. "I know Leo's death was hard on you, but the baby is innocent. I just wanted to leave Enzo a legacy..."

"Shut your mouth," I cut her off sharply, my eyes radiating undisguised murderous intent. "This is the Corsica family cemetery. Who the hell do you think you are to call me sister here?"

Intimidated by my aura, Gianna's face paled, and she shot an appealing look to Enzo for help.

Enzo's face darkened.

"We need an heir, Katerina, and the syndicate expects it. You will do your duty as Donna and maintain your dignity. If you so much as harbor a single dark thought against the child in Gianna's belly, I will forget every ounce of history between us."

"Gianna moves into the east wing tonight. You will not only accept this, but you will also give her the respect she deserves as the mother of my child."

I tilted my head back, meeting his cold, dead eyes.

My son, Leo, had been dead for less than a week.

The ash from the fire that consumed him still felt lodged in my lungs.

Yet here was my husband, standing right over our son's grave, brazenly showing off the seed of his "replacement."

My sanity snapped in an instant.

"You soulless bastard!" I shrieked hysterically, lunging blindly at him. "Enzo, how could you do this?"

Two bodyguards instantly stepped in, shoving me roughly to the muddy ground beside the headstone.

Enzo looked down at me from his high horse. "Leo is gone. The bloodline must survive. Get a hold of yourself, Katerina. Your hysterics right now are truly pathetic."

With that, he turned to leave.

His arrogant coldness hit me like a bucket of shattered ice, drenching me to the bone.

The sobbing caught in my throat. Staring at my mud-caked hands, I suddenly stopped struggling.

"We are getting a divorce."

Enzo's footsteps abruptly halted.

"Are you out of your mind? Katerina. I will never divorce you. Never. Not unless you're dead. And even if you die, you die in my house."