Go Save Your Sweetheart

I was five months pregnant when the Valente Syndicate — my husband's rival family — ambushed our convoy. Bullets punched through the windows. Glass exploded everywhere.

And I didn't ask my husband to save me.

Dante Morretti — heir to the most powerful mafia family in this city, father of my unborn child — was in the car ahead. In my last life, I grabbed his sleeve and begged him to save us. He did. He chose me and the baby over Seraphina Carideo, his childhood sweetheart, the daughter of his family's closest allies.

By the time backup arrived, Seraphina was dead.

After that, Dante changed. He took time off. Bought out every baby store in the city. Made me warm milk every night. Checked my blood pressure every morning.

I thought I'd finally become the most important person in his life.

Until the day our son was born.

He took us to Seraphina's grave. My son never came back.

"You thought you won?" His voice was calm. Gentle, even. "The moment Sera stopped breathing, you were already dead to me. I just needed the heir to be born first."

"Now you can go keep her company."

He ordered his man to beat me to death, right there on the freezing ground, in front of her grave.

The last thing I heard was his voice: "You should never have existed in my world."

Then I opened my eyes.

Gunfire. Shattering glass. The same ambush. The same day.

A bullet shattered the window beside me. Glass sliced my arm. Blood dripped down my wrist.

Last time, I reached for Dante. Begged him to save me.

This time, I let go.

I watched his car screech to a halt ahead. Watched him jump out and run — not toward me.

Toward Seraphina's car.

He pulled her out, cradled her in his arms, and shoved her into his armored vehicle.

The car sped away. He never looked back.

I was left behind.

The gunfight raged on. I crawled behind an overturned SUV, both hands wrapped around my belly. Protect the baby. That was the only thought left.

A Valente thug spotted me. Grabbed my hair and dragged me out.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

He kicked me in the stomach. Once. Twice.

I bit down so hard I tasted blood. Didn't make a sound.

By the time Morretti backup arrived, the Valente men had scattered.

I dragged myself toward one of our guards. Grabbed his pant leg.

"Please." My voice was barely there. "Hospital. The baby — I think I'm losing the baby —"

He looked down at me. Then kicked my hand away.

"Save the act, Mrs. Morretti." He didn't bother hiding his disgust. "Everyone knows you can't stand Miss Sera. You thought carrying the heir made you untouchable? The boss already told us — you sold our route to Valente. You tried to get her killed."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"You better pray Miss Sera doesn't have a scratch on her." He crouched down, his face inches from mine. "Because if she does? Heir or no heir, the boss will cut you loose. And you know what this family does to traitors."

He stood up and walked away.

I lay on the ground. Glass everywhere. Blood soaking through my dress.

The pain in my abdomen was getting worse.