Chapter 1

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld.

My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved.

The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families.

But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished.

"An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead.

"We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush."

Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream.

My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it.

"You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?"

Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah.

"Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing."

"Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name."

In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe.

Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message:

"Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen."

"Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

...

After leaving the family meeting, I wandered the streets, heartbroken.

A tattered tabloid lay soaked in a puddle in the gutter, trampled and ruined.

The headline was blurred by the rain, but I could still make out the famous photograph from three months ago.

My father, holding up a rare pink diamond for the cameras, a welcoming gift for the future heir of the Collins family.

"This is a symbol of the Collins family's commitment, for my daughter and the honor of our family."

And in the corner of the photo, Vincent was kissing my fingertips. I still remembered his words: "Evie, you are my one true faith."

Now, the headline mocked me: New York's Underworld Fairy Tale.

Rain struck my face, and I couldn't tell if the cold sting was the water or my own pain.

The phone in my pocket rang. It was Vincent's custom ringtone.

That sound used to be a thrill.

Now it felt like a death knell.

After a long hesitation, I answered on the last ring.

But all I heard was the raucous laughter of his drunken men.

"The Don's move was brilliant! That high and mighty Principessa Collins is probably still dreaming of being the Donna."

"Of course. You know our Don. He played the perfect gentleman for so long just to get his hands on the Collins' business. I heard the broad's a cold fish in bed, is that true?"

"Haha, what's the use of being prissy? Collins territory is about to become Jenkins territory! And the funniest part is the kid. It'll be a bastard the moment it's born!"

"Yeah, but today's show was the best part! Sisters fighting over one man, only our Don would dare pull a stunt like that!"

I gripped the phone so tightly my nails dug into my palm. Silent tears fell onto the muddy tabloid.

Suddenly, the men on the other end went quiet, and Vincent's voice came through.

"Who touched my phone?"

Before anyone could answer, his tone shifted, becoming impossibly gentle. "Baby, why aren't you saying anything? Are you not feeling well?"

I opened my mouth, wanting to confront him about our marriage, but then I remembered: on that so-called family marriage contract, my signature held no legal weight.

I didn't even have the right, or the standing, to bring it up. We were never truly married.

Just then, Sarah's saccharine moans came through the phone.

"Vincent, the baby's kicking. Come feel..."

Vincent's breathing hitched. He paused, then said, "Evie, things with the Commission are complicated. I'll be back to see you tonight."

Before I could say a word, he hung up.

I walked home, soaked to the bone, and sat in the dark living room for God knows how long, until the fingerprint lock chimed.

My father and Vincent walked in, radiating success.

"Evie, I had a blessed charm brought from the Vatican for you," my father said with a benevolent smile.

Vincent casually took off his overcoat and knelt before me, his warm hands covering my cold ones, rubbing them gently.

"Why are you soaked? Did you get caught in the rain?"

"Should I have the family doctor take a look? How's the baby?"

They were completely absorbed in their performance. When I said nothing, they exchanged a look.

I pulled a document from behind my back and handed it to Vincent. "Sign it."

My father immediately joked, "So my daughter only recognizes her husband's signature now, not her father's?"

Vincent didn't even glance at the contents and picked up the pen with a smile.

"Evie, you're pregnant. Your health is what's important."

"Don't you worry your head about family business. Just tell me what you want, and I'll get it for you."

The fountain pen glided across the paper, his name signed with a confident flourish.

He had no idea it wasn't a routine shipping manifest.

As they were speaking, both of their private phones vibrated at the same time.

My father patted my shoulder. "A small problem at the docks. We need to handle it."

Vincent stood and gently kissed my hair. "I might have to pull an all-nighter to give you and the baby a better future. Be good. Go to sleep."

With that, they hurried out.

As Vincent turned, a necklace slipped from his pocket.

It was from Sarah's favorite brand, a global limited edition.

They were probably on their way to a romantic candlelit dinner, celebrating their imminent takeover of the Collins family.

I picked up the document. Emblazoned on it were the words: "The signatory voluntarily relinquishes all rights and claims to the child in the woman's womb."

A tearful laugh escaped me, and I fiercely wiped my eyes.

It was there in black and white. If he had cared just a little, if he had even glanced at it, he would have known something was wrong.

But now, with this, my child would have no connection to the Jenkins family, or to Vincent.

The purest mafia blood runs in my veins. We Collins women know when to hold on, and we know better than anyone when to let go.

Wiping away my last tear, I dialed Antonio, my family's most loyal Capo.

"Antonio, lock down all the Jenkins family's smuggling routes. Tonight, I want every one of their ships trapped in port."

"And one more thing. I'm activating the Bloodline Trust."