Chapter 1

The day old Mrs. Moretti's will was read aloud, I learned that my husband had a son.

By the time the lawyer reached the final page, two people I'd never seen before had appeared in the conference room.

A woman, twenty-five or twenty-six, in a black dress, eyes rimmed red, her head bowed the entire time.

A boy, around four years old, sitting beside Dominic's knee, his small hand resting in Dominic's palm.

Dominic was filing the child's fingernails.

Gently.

Like he'd done it many times before.

Before closing the documents, the lawyer glanced at me.

"The final item, the old Mrs. Moretti's last bequest—"

"She leaves all assets under her name to the third-generation heir of the Moretti family—Dominic's child, Nico Moretti."

The conference room went silent.

So silent I could hear my own breathing skip a beat.

I turned to look at Dominic.

He avoided my eyes.

His fingers were still smoothing down the last rough edge on the child's nail.

The boy tilted his face up.

"Daddy, blow on it."

Dominic lowered his head and blew softly on the tiny finger.

His profile was perfectly calm.

As though this were nothing new.

I opened my mouth.

Before any sound came out, the Moretti family elder sitting across from me spoke first.

"Elena, we had intended to discuss this with you at a more appropriate time."

His tone was gentle.

So gentle it was like coaxing a naive child into accepting something that had been decided long ago.

"What weighed most heavily on the old Mrs. Moretti before she passed was the question of the family line."

"You and Dominic have been married for six years."

He didn't finish the sentence.

But everyone knew the rest.

Six years. No children.

Dominic's mother continued, her voice even softer, as though afraid of shattering something fragile.

"The old Mrs. Moretti was very ill at the time. The family had many doctors review your medical records…"

She paused.

"It's a uterine condition, isn't it?"

I didn't answer.

Because she was stating a fact.

It had been diagnosed three years ago. Dominic had gone to the hospital with me. The night we got the results, he held me and said it was all right, said we'd figure something out, said there was no rush about children.

He said there was no rush.

But the old Mrs. Moretti couldn't wait.

"What the old Mrs. Moretti meant was that a family like the Morettis cannot let the line die out with this generation. She… made certain arrangements."

Arrangements.

I looked at the woman with her head still bowed.

Vivienne Lacroix.

She hadn't once looked up at me.

Her shoulders trembled slightly.

The elder lowered his voice, as though presenting an unavoidable matter of business.

"Vivienne was brought in by the old Mrs. Moretti. Respectable background, clean bill of health. It happened two years ago."

Two years ago.

While I was still taking medication to prepare my body.

"Dominic refused at first."

"But the old Mrs. Moretti's condition deteriorated suddenly. She was afraid she wouldn't live to see…"

He didn't finish.

Dominic finally spoke.

His voice was very low.

"That night, Grandmother had something put in the wine."

The conference room was so quiet you could hear the wind outside the windows.

"When I woke up, it had already happened."

His hand rested on the child's fingertips. "I didn't know how to tell you. Grandmother said if I didn't accept all of it, she'd keep arranging other women for me. All I could do was go along and silently pray that nothing would come of it."

"But Vivienne got pregnant."

"It wasn't my choice either." The woman called Vivienne looked at me with red eyes and a face full of guilt. "The old Mrs. Moretti paid for my education. She said she wanted to meet me. I woke up the next morning in that bed."

"They kept me under strict control—until they confirmed the pregnancy, until I safely delivered Nico."

"I never wanted to take anyone's place."

I listened to all of it.

Every word was telling me the same thing—how perfectly innocent every single person standing before me was.

The old Mrs. Moretti did it for the family legacy.

Dominic was set up.

Vivienne was used.

The child was blameless.

Everyone had their reasons.

But my heart was breaking.

The elder spoke again at just the right moment.

"Elena, in her will, the old Mrs. Moretti says she's deeply sorry for orchestrating all of this. She was always very pleased with you—she simply believed that children are the foundation of a family. She hopes that if you must blame anyone, you blame her, and not the child. She asks that you accept Nico and raise him well."

His voice even carried a note of earnest appeal.

"It would be best for everyone. The child would have a proper place in the family, and you would also…"

"Also what?" My voice came out calmer than I expected.

Dominic's mother said, "Also have a child of your own."

I tugged at the corner of my lips and met Dominic's gaze.

Very softly, I said, "You know, we could just get a divorce."