Chapter 2

Isabella's POV

"I've got a bodyguard waiting downstairs for you. Text me when you get back to the estate."

Vincent seemed surprised that I'd agreed so readily. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

I turned mechanically and headed for the exit.

When I passed Elena, I stopped.

"When are you leaving?"

Elena stiffened and looked helplessly toward Vincent and Sophia.

Sophia hurried forward, positioning herself between us.

"Tomorrow morning. Her flight leaves at seven. I'll personally escort her to the tarmac, so you don't have to worry."

I nodded and walked out of the hospital room.

The moment I closed the car door, the composure I'd forced myself to maintain finally crumbled.

I pressed both hands over my mouth, desperately trying to keep even the smallest sound from escaping.

My baby was dead.

He'd died five years ago in that horrific car accident, his tiny body reduced to nothing but blood and shattered flesh.

And the child I'd poured my heart into raising for the past five years, the boy I'd even taken bullets for, was the illegitimate son they'd conspired to pass off as mine.

When I returned to the estate, every corner of the living room bore traces of Leo's existence.

The limited-edition toy gun on the carpet. The Italian children's picture books scattered across the coffee table.

And the enormous custom oil painting hanging on the wall.

In it, I was holding Leo, smiling with pure happiness. Vincent stood behind us, his arms wrapped around both of us, his eyes so full of affection that he looked ready to shield our family from every bullet in the world.

I slipped off my heels and walked barefoot across the floor.

Then I went straight into Vincent's study and locked the door.

If they'd managed to deceive me for five whole years, there was no way this supposedly impenetrable estate had been completely wiped clean of evidence.

I opened the encrypted computer on Vincent's desk.

I entered my birthday as the password.

Incorrect.

I tried Leo's birthday.

Still incorrect.

My fingers hovered above the keyboard for several seconds.

Then I entered Elena's birthday.

The system unlocked.

In that instant, I couldn't even feel the anger of being betrayed. The whole thing was simply too absurd to comprehend.

A perfect husband who always put me first, who was even willing to make enemies of other Mafia families for my sake.

And the password to his private computer was the birthday of the woman he'd been sleeping with.

I opened the hidden cloud account he used most often.

All the family transaction records had been meticulously erased.

Only one encrypted folder remained, disguised as "Naples Port Logistics."

I used the same password to unlock it.

There were no smuggling records inside.

Instead, there were hundreds of photographs and several high-resolution scanned documents.

The title of the first document struck my eyes like a knife.

"Consent Form for Induction and Removal of Isabella Romano's Stillborn Fetus."

Vincent's signature sprawled across the signature line in his unmistakable handwriting.

The second document was even worse.

"Leo Romano's Birth Certificate.

Mother: Elena.

Father: Vincent."

His date of birth was exactly two months after I'd undergone the procedure to remove my dead baby at the underground clinic.

They hadn't even left me a single day of breathing room.

My trembling fingers continued scrolling.

The photographs showed scenes I'd never witnessed during those five years.

Vincent accompanying Elena at a private estate in Switzerland for her postpartum recovery.

Carlo and Sophia holding newborn Leo, grinning from ear to ear.

And then there was one photograph in particular.

It had been taken on the day I was discharged from the hospital. After slipping a sedative into my IV and lulling me to sleep, Vincent had gone into the next room and taken a selfie with Elena and Leo in his arms.

The caption read:

"My queen and little prince, the ones I truly care about, have had to endure so much. Just hold on a little longer."

So this was what I'd been to them all along.

A hysterical woman who could explode at any moment.

A convenient tool for securing their illegitimate son's legal inheritance rights and consolidating the power of the Romano family.

"Urgh!"

A violent wave of nausea hit me. I shoved my chair aside and rushed into the en suite bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet.

I retched uncontrollably until even bile came up, yet I still felt as though my entire body was filthy beyond redemption.

I don't know how long I sat on the floor.

Gradually, the sky outside began to lighten. The sound of a car engine shutting off drifted in from beyond the estate gates.

I pulled myself upright using the sink and splashed cold water over my face.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Vincent had just entered the bedroom, carrying an elegant paper box.

The moment he saw my pale face, he strode toward me.

"Why are you up so early? Is your injury hurting again?"

He reached out to feel my forehead, his voice thick with concern.

I turned my head coldly, avoiding his touch.

His hand froze, but he immediately recovered, forcing a smile as he withdrew it.

Then he held the box out to me.

"Look what I picked up for you. I made a special detour to get it."

"Pistachio rolls. I remember how much you used to love these. Go on, try one."

I stared at the pastry box he was practically shoving into my face.

Then I lifted my eyes to meet his supposedly sincere gaze.

"Vincent, I'm severely allergic to pistachios. The kind of allergy that can kill me."

I enunciated every word.

"Have you forgotten?"