Chapter 1

The day I learned I was pregnant, I walked out of a private clinic holding the test results, ready to tell my husband that we were finally going to have a child.

I never got the chance to make the call. A sports car driven by Damian's foster sister, Serena, struck me outside the clinic. When Damian arrived, he rushed past the paramedics and lifted Serena into his arms, even though she had suffered only minor injuries.

He never recognized his wife being loaded into the ambulance.

After surgery, he called to tell me that Serena had been in an accident and needed him beside her.

"I am sorry, but I have to cancel our anniversary dinner."

I did not tell him that I was the other person involved in the crash. I did not tell him that the child we had wanted for five years was gone.

He gave me the title of Donna while reserving his forbidden devotion for her. Since he could not bear to lose either of us, I would make the choice for him.

In seven days, I would leave New York and return to my parents in Sicily. Damian would receive the two gifts I left behind. The first would be a divorce that restored his freedom. The second would be the wedding he and Serena had always wanted.

This time, I would not ask why he betrayed me. I would quietly give them my blessing, and then I would disappear forever.

Chapter 1

"Bring me the divorce agreement from the safe."

After the doctor told me there was nothing more they could do for the baby, I lay in the hospital bed and stared at the ceiling until my eyes burned.

For five years, I had imagined the moment Damian learned we were finally having a child. I had planned to slip the test results into his anniversary gift that evening and watch his face when he opened it.

Now our baby was gone, and Damian would never know how close he had come to becoming a father.

When the tears finally stopped, I called the family attorney.

The agreement had been locked in the safe inside Damian's study since the day before our wedding. It still bore the Moretti crest pressed into dark red wax.

Damian had signed it in front of both families. If he ever broke his marriage vows, I would have the right to end the alliance between the Russos and the Morettis. He had also signed a waiver promising not to contest the divorce if the infidelity clause was ever invoked.

At the time, he had held my hand and sworn that those papers would remain in the safe forever.

The attorney placed them on the table beside my bed.

"Mrs. Moretti, once you sign, the alliance between the Russo and Moretti families will be dissolved. We will file the civil petition today, and Mr. Moretti has already waived his right to contest it."

I accepted the pen and signed the name I had not used in five years.

Elena Russo.

For the first time since my wedding, I did not add Moretti after it.

The attorney gathered the papers but did not leave immediately. "Would you like us to notify Mr. Moretti before the documents are filed?"

"No."

Damian was probably still with Serena.

Earlier, while the nurse changed my IV, I had seen the photograph Serena posted to her story. She was lying in a private room at a Moretti hospital with a small bandage above her eyebrow. Damian sat beside her, peeling an apple as though she had narrowly escaped death.

Her caption read, [No matter what happens, he will always be the first one to come for me.]

She was right.

When Serena needed him, Damian always came.

I turned off my phone and looked at Alessia. "Book me a flight to Palermo seven days from now."

Her eyes filled with tears. She had been my assistant for all five years of my marriage, and she understood what that request meant without asking.

Under the agreement between our families, once I ended the marriage and returned to Sicily alone, my protection would pass back to the Russo family. Damian would no longer be allowed to enter Sicily without my family's permission.

My father had insisted on that condition because he never wanted his daughter to find herself trapped in a cruel marriage with nowhere to go.

I had once thought his concern was unnecessary.

During my five years in New York, I had rarely returned to Sicily without Damian. Whenever my mother asked me to come home for a few weeks, I always told her that my husband needed me.

The truth was that I had been the one who could not bear to leave him.

"There is one more thing," I said.

Alessia opened her tablet. "What do you need?"

"Reserve the private ballroom on the third floor of the Moretti Hotel for the same night."

She paused. "What kind of event are you planning?"

"A wedding."

Her fingers went still above the screen. "Who is getting married?"

Outside the window, the rain had stopped, leaving trails of water across the glass. Beyond them, the lights of New York blurred into streaks of gold and white.

"Damian Moretti and Serena Rossi."

Alessia stared at me. "Does Mr. Moretti know?"

"He will."

Damian wanted to keep his wife, but he could not bring himself to give up Serena. Since he lacked the courage to choose between us, I would make the choice for him.

Alessia did not try to change my mind. She reserved the ballroom, confirmed my flight, and sent the itinerary to my phone.

Palermo. Seven days from now. Departure at 6:20 p.m.

I studied the ticket for a moment before calling my mother. It was already morning in Sicily, and she answered almost immediately.

"Elena?"

At the sound of her voice, my grip tightened around the phone. I tried to keep my voice steady, but it came out hoarse.

"Mama, I'm coming home in seven days."

She fell silent. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler. "Is Damian coming with you?"

"No. It will only be me this time. I want to stay with you and Papa, and I'm not leaving again."

I looked down at my bare ring finger. After signing the agreement, I had given my wedding ring to Alessia and asked her to return it to the Moretti estate.

My mother did not ask why. "All right," she said. "I'll have someone waiting for you at the airport."

After the call ended, I added the flight to my calendar.

Chapter 2

After I was discharged from the hospital, Alessia drove me back to the Moretti estate. At my request, she placed the divorce agreement and the wedding confirmation inside a black gift box.

I had barely hidden it in the bedroom when the sound of an engine rose from the courtyard. Damian was home.

The moment he saw me, he crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. "Why didn't you answer my calls yesterday?"

His arm pressed against my abdomen, and pain made my body stiffen. Damian noticed at once and lowered his gaze to my face.

"You look pale. What's wrong?"

"My stomach was bothering me, so I went to the hospital for tests."

His brow tightened. "Why didn't you tell me?"

As I studied the exhaustion beneath his eyes, I wondered what he would have done if I had told him that I was the woman on the operating table. Would he have left Serena and come to me?

The answer no longer mattered.

"You were taking care of Serena. I didn't want to disturb you."

"She was shaken up after the accident. That's all." Damian bent and kissed my forehead. "Next time, you call me first. I don't care what else is happening."

His voice held the same warmth that had made me trust him for five years. If I had not lain bleeding in the street while he carried Serena away, I might have believed him.

Damian took my hand. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

He led me downstairs and into the garage, where a pearl-white armored Bentley stood beneath the lights. The doors had been reinforced, and my initials were set discreetly into the metal.

Several months earlier, I had mentioned that my old car made my back ache during long drives. Damian had remembered. He had commissioned this one in England without telling me.

"Happy fifth anniversary." He placed the key in my palm and smiled. "Do you like it?"

"I do."

I did not refuse the gift. It belonged to Mrs. Moretti, and that woman would cease to exist in six days. The car could remain on the estate with everything else that came with her title.

When we returned to the bedroom, Damian noticed the black box. He reached for it, but I covered the lid with my hand.

"That one is for you. You can't open it yet."

His eyebrows rose. "You bought me another gift?"

"There are two surprises inside. You can have them in six days."

He thought for a moment, clearly unable to remember what would happen in six days. Only after he left the room did I hear him quietly ask one of his men, "Elena's birthday is in six days, isn't it? Arrange a party immediately, and do not let her know I forgot."

That evening, Damian took me to our usual Italian restaurant to make up for the anniversary dinner he had canceled.

The owner knew us well. He personally delivered an anniversary cake and asked when we planned to have children.

Damian covered my hand with his. "Soon. Elena has always wanted a girl. If we have a daughter, I will make her the happiest little girl in New York."

I looked at the sugar figurines holding hands on top of the cake and said nothing. Only yesterday, we had almost had that child.

Halfway through dinner, Damian's phone lit up. After reading the message, he rose at once.

"There is a problem at the docks. I need to handle it, but I will be back soon."

He kissed my hair and walked out quickly.

Through the restaurant window, I watched him enter a black SUV parked at the corner. The rear window was lowered halfway. Serena sat inside, and the bandage had already disappeared from her forehead. The instant Damian joined her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

The window rose again.

I turned back to the table, picked up the knife, and cut straight through the two sugar figures that were still clinging to each other.

Six days remained until I left New York.

Chapter 3

The next day.

Damian did not return to the estate until two in the morning. The opening door woke me, and before I could sit up, he had removed his coat and wrapped his arms around me. He had been drinking, and the rose perfume Serena always wore still clung to his clothes.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" He leaned down to kiss me, but I turned my face away.

"I was tired."

Damian went still, then held me more tightly. "You haven't been yourself for the past two days. You can be angry with me, and you can yell at me, but don't shut me out."

His palm moved slowly over my back as if he were comforting me, just as he had done countless times before. Serena's perfume remained on his collar, yet he spoke with such unmistakable devotion.

"You are my wife," he murmured against my ear. "Whatever happens, you do not leave me."

He fell asleep soon afterward. I remained awake until dawn.

In the morning, Damian poured warm water for me and instructed the kitchen to replace my coffee with hot milk.

"Your stomach is still bothering you, so stay away from coffee for a few days."

Without Serena, he would still have been the perfect husband everyone believed him to be. He remembered my habits, spent money on me without hesitation, and kissed me before every departure. He simply believed that hiding a woman on another estate did not count as betrayal.

As long as I remained ignorant and my position as Mrs. Moretti was secure, he could continue to call himself faithful.

Near the end of breakfast, he checked his phone. "The family has a meeting tonight. I may be home late."

"All right."

My calm answer surprised him. In the past, if he stayed away for several nights, I always asked where he had been. Now that I no longer questioned him, he smiled instead.

"You haven't asked me a single question lately." A faint smile touched Damian's lips. "I thought you'd want to know where I was going."

"I don't think it matters anymore."

Damian took my answer for trust. Not long after he left, an unknown number sent photographs to my phone.

In the first, Serena wore an ivory wedding gown and leaned against Damian. In the second, he knelt before her and placed a blue diamond ring on her finger. The final picture had been taken inside a private club, where Serena's birth mother sat at the head of the table while Damian raised his glass to her.

Several messages followed.

[He told me he could never make me Mrs. Moretti, but I would still have everything a wife was entitled to.]

[Tonight, he is taking me to taste wedding cakes.]

[All you have is his name, Elena.]

I stared at the photographs for a long time.

Damian had never gone down on one knee for me. Before our wedding, he told me that Moretti men knelt before God, not before women. When the time came to exchange rings, he had stood in the family chapel and placed mine on my finger without bowing his head.

I had believed it was a rule he would never break.

Now I understood that I simply had not been the woman for whom he was willing to break it.

I did not respond to Serena. Instead, I forwarded the photographs to Alessia.

[Give these to the wedding planner. I want them displayed in the private ballroom.]

Her answer came quickly.

[Understood. Everything will be ready in five days.]

At noon, Damian sent me the schedule for my birthday party. It would take place on the second floor of the Moretti Hotel, with the cake served at seven. He had arranged a band and fireworks and warned me not to investigate the birthday gift he was preparing.

At seven that night, he would be standing in the ballroom waiting for me. By then, my 6:20 flight to Sicily would already be in the air.

Chapter 4

At ten the following morning, my attorney called.

"Miss Russo, the family alliance has been formally dissolved. The civil divorce papers are also ready, and they will be delivered to Mr. Moretti after you board your flight, as requested."

He no longer called me Mrs. Moretti. I held the phone in silence before answering, "Thank you."

Five years of marriage had ended more quietly than I ever imagined. There had been no argument and no plea for me to stay. Damian did not even know that, in the eyes of our families, I was no longer Mrs. Moretti. Only the final civil procedure remained.

After the call, I began clearing my things from the study. I took only the letters my mother had sent me and several old albums. The Moretti jewels, accounts, and family seals remained where they belonged.

That afternoon, an alert appeared on the estate security system. The rear villa, which had stood empty for years, had received new access permissions directly from Damian.

I opened the surveillance feed.

Several black cars were parked outside while guards carried luggage indoors. Serena stepped out of one car, and Damian followed with shopping bags from a baby boutique.

After walking only a few steps, she stopped and pressed a hand to her abdomen. Damian immediately supported her. The surveillance feed had no sound, but I could tell from his expression that he was asking her for not moving too quickly.

Soon afterward, the unknown number sent me a medical report. Serena was nine weeks pregnant.

[Damian said this house is the closest one to the Moretti estate. If anything happens to me or the baby, he can reach us immediately.]

So she was carrying his child.

My hand moved instinctively to my abdomen. The wound had not healed, and sharp pain still returned without warning. If our baby had survived, I would have been seven weeks pregnant.

On the screen, Damian crouched in front of Serena and fastened a necklace around her throat. A medal of Saint Gerard hung from the chain, a gift many Catholic families gave an expectant mother to pray for a safe pregnancy.

Five years earlier, I had prayed over one in a church. After years passed without a child, I had put it away.

I closed the surveillance feed without answering Serena.

Half an hour later, Damian returned to the main house carrying a velvet box.

"This is for you." Inside was a Saint Christopher medal.

"You have looked unwell lately." He placed it around my neck himself. "The priest said it would protect you from accidents."

I lowered my eyes to the silver pendant. Damian had prayed for Serena and her child, then remembered to bring me protection as an afterthought.

"Don't you like it?"

"I do."

Satisfied, Damian glanced around the study and quickly noticed the gaps on the shelves. "Where did everything go?"

"I am sending them back to Palermo."

"Why would you do that?"

"I will not need them here much longer."

He assumed I was merely sorting old belongings and did not question me again. Instead, he came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"After your birthday party, I will take you to Sicily for a week."

I froze. Every year since our wedding, I had asked him to visit my family with me. Damian always said family business was too demanding and promised we would go next time. I had waited year after year. Now that I had stopped waiting, he suddenly had time.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked, lowering his face toward mine. "Don't you want me there?"

I looked at our reflected bodies in the window. "It is too late."

"What did you say?"

I turned and straightened his tie. "I said not to forget the party in four days."

"I would never forget." He lifted my hand to his lips. "I have arranged everything, all you have to do is stay beside me."

He still did not understand that by the time the party began, I would no longer be in New York.

Chapter 5

After Alessia sent away the final pieces of luggage, half of my dressing room stood empty. I left behind everything Damian had bought for me, including the jewels, gowns, handbags, and the white robe I wore on our wedding night. I took only what had belonged to me before our marriage.

While clearing the bedside drawer, I found the bloodstained pregnancy report. The image had blurred, but the doctor's note in the corner still read seven weeks.

I studied it for a long time before placing it inside the black box beneath the divorce agreement.

"Are you certain you want Mr. Moretti to see it?" Alessia asked quietly.

"Give it to him after I board."

I would not explain what happened, and I did not need to witness his reaction. Still, our child had existed, and Damian deserved to know what his choices had cost.

Alessia closed the box and reviewed the wedding arrangements with me.

"The ballroom is ready. The dress, rings, and vows were prepared according to the photographs Serena sent you. Shall I invite the Moretti family?"

"No."

This was not a trial, and I needed no audience. I had no interest in humiliating them before the entire family or staying to enjoy Damian's regret. I only intended to give Serena the wedding Damian refused to acknowledge and force him to see what he had lost by trying to possess two women at once.

"Invite Serena and her mother," I said. "Once Damian reaches the hotel, give him the key to the private ballroom."

That evening, Serena sent me a recording made from outside a closed door. Damian was giving his men instructions about security on my birthday.

"Serena is not permitted anywhere near the hotel during the party."

"What if she insists on seeing you?" one of his men asked.

"Keep the doctor with her."

"She's pregnant. She may not accept that."

After a brief silence, Damian's voice turned cold. "Then remind her that Elena is my wife. I can give Serena a house and support her and the child for the rest of their lives, but she will never come near Elena."

"What happens if Donna discovers the truth?"

"She will not." Damian answered without hesitation. "Elena has never investigated me. She loves me, and she trusts me."

The recording ended, followed by a message from Serena.

[You heard him. He may care about you more, but even that will never make him give up me or his child.]

I deleted the recording without replying.

Damian was right about one thing. I had never investigated him during our five years of marriage. It was not because I was foolish. I simply believed that loyalty maintained through surveillance was not loyalty at all.

That trust no longer existed.

Damian returned early that night carrying a long black gown. He held it against me in front of the mirror.

"Wear this to your birthday party."

"You chose it?"

"Of course." He embraced me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. "The day after tomorrow, I will not deal with any family business. I will spend the entire day with you. After the party, we will plan our trip to Palermo."

He had already ordered the private jet prepared and intended to stay with me in Sicily for a week. He still believed we had an endless supply of tomorrows.

"Elena," Damian asked suddenly, "what do you want for your birthday next year?"

I met his eyes in the mirror. "You do not need to prepare anything next year."

He laughed, assuming I meant that I already had everything. "That is not an option. As long as I am alive, I will be beside you for every birthday."

I did not correct him. After tomorrow, Damian would never celebrate another birthday with me.

Chapter 6

The countdown reached zero on my birthday.

Damian was already dressed when I woke. He kissed my forehead and placed the black gown beside me.

"I will come back for you at six."

I looked at him. "Can you stay with me today?"

I had never made such a request in five years. Damian hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking my hand.

"There are still a few things at the hotel that need my attention. As soon as everything is ready, I'll come back."

He kissed my fingertips. "Tonight, you will be the happiest woman in New York."

I did not expose the lie. The second floor of the Moretti Hotel held the birthday party he had arranged for me. On the third floor waited the wedding I had prepared for him and Serena.

Damian stayed through lunch. I had barely touched my food, so he cut my steak into smaller pieces and moved the plate closer to me.

"You need to eat."

His phone lit up before I could answer. Serena had sent a photograph of bright blood staining a white skirt.

[Damian, it hurts. The doctor says I might lose the baby.]

All color left his face. He set down his utensils so abruptly that he nearly overturned his wine.

"What happened?" I asked.

"There is a problem with security at the hotel." He lied without blinking. "I have to go now, but you wait here. I'll be back before six."

He seized his coat and headed for the door.

"Damian."

He turned back. I looked at the man I had loved for seven years and remembered him standing beside me in the family chapel on our wedding day. In front of both families, he had promised that through illness, danger, and death, he would always choose me. Yet when the choice came, he had never chosen me once.

"Goodbye."

His brow furrowed. "Why did you say that as if you were leaving?"

His phone rang again. Serena was urging him to come.

Damian did not wait for my answer. He only said, "I will see you tonight," and walked away.

Once his car left the estate, I went upstairs for my passport and the last suitcase. The medal he had given me lay beside the bed. I removed it and placed it next to the estate keys and the gift box.

Before leaving, I gave the household staff letters and checks. The butler followed me to the entrance, his eyes red.

"Mrs. Moretti, will you come back?"

I did not answer. Alessia's car was already waiting outside.

I reached the airport at 5:40 p.m. When boarding began, messages from Damian appeared.

[The security issue has been resolved. I am going to the hotel to wait for you.]

[Remember to wear the dress I gave you.]

[Do not be late tonight.]

He still believed everything was unfolding according to his plan.

At six, as I prepared to board, Alessia delivered the gift box to the Moretti Hotel. Damian called just before the aircraft door closed.

I answered, and his voice came through immediately. "Elena, where are you? The party is about to begin."

An announcement sounded behind me, asking passengers on the flight to Palermo to take their seats.

Silence held the other end of the line for two seconds.

"Are you at the airport?" Damian's voice changed sharply. "Why are they calling a flight to Palermo? Elena, answer me."

"I am going home."

"What do you mean, home? The Moretti estate is your home."

A chair scraped against the floor. He seemed to have risen so violently that it fell behind him.

"Do not get on that plane. Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"It is too late."

"Elena!"

For the first time, I heard panic break through Damian's control. I remained calm.

"Go to the third floor. I left your gifts there."

"I do not want any gifts." His breathing had grown ragged. "Tell me why you are leaving."

"You will understand when you open the box."

I ended the call. A few minutes later, Alessia sent me a message: [Mr. Moretti has opened the box.]

A second message followed: [He found the pregnancy report.]