Chapter 1

I dragged Vito Corti out of a pool of blood.

Five years ago, on a rainy night, I was still a Capo managing the docks for the Corti family. I was patrolling my territory when I found him cornered by a rival family in the abandoned container yard at the pier.

Through my car window, I watched the man fighting for his life in that desperate situation. He moved like a trapped beast, every counterattack carrying a destructive kind of beauty. Eventually, he fell.

Just as a dagger was about to pierce his heart, my men cleared the scene. Holding an umbrella, I walked up to him. My black heels pressed into the muddy ground mixed with blood as I looked down at this man covered in wounds.

At the time, the Corti family faced an unprecedented crisis. The old Don was aging, and of his only two biological sons, one died in last year's gang warfare while the other despised mafia business and fled long ago to pursue art instead.

Inside the family, ambitions stirred. Outside, powerful enemies circled.

"I'll save you. You repay me with everything you have. How about it?" I asked.

He lifted his head. Those dark eyes gleamed in the darkness, filled with unconcealed hunger for power and raw ambition.

He didn't answer. He simply grabbed my ankle, the force so strong it felt like he wanted to crush my bones.

I didn't struggle. I let him study me.

I wasn't a good person. I was simply choosing the sharpest blade for myself, and he was ruthless enough, strong enough, and ambitious enough.

I brought him back to the family, taught him the rules, and introduced him to the old Don, Lorenzo Corti.

Vito didn't disappoint me. He even exceeded my control.

He was ruthless and possessed astonishing strategic brilliance. In just three years, he wiped out all hostile forces and even took a nearly fatal bullet for Don Lorenzo. That was the crucial step to his rise.

On his deathbed, Don Lorenzo formally adopted Vito as a son, gave him the prestigious surname Corti, and placed the family's power in his hands.

In return, he married me and made me his only Madre of the Corti family. At the wedding, he slipped the ruby ring symbolizing the family's highest authority onto my finger and whispered a promise in my ear.

"Gia Fontana, you are my life. My only woman."

Back then, I believed him. That lasted until women of every kind started appearing around him—famous actresses, exotic dancers, and casino dealers from every walk of life. That was when I understood that a man's vows were laughably cheap.

"Gia, look at me."

Vito didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he stepped closer, his warm fingertips tracing my cheek with an almost obsessive tenderness.

"Why compare yourself to those people? They're nothing but passersby, distractions to kill time."

He lowered his head, his towering frame completely enveloping me. His forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling.

"You need to understand, no matter how many people have come and gone around me, the only one I truly love is you." His voice was low and magnetic, laced with persuasive power.

"Gia, only you are worthy of standing beside me. No one can replace your position in my heart. So don't waste your energy on those insignificant playthings, sì? They don't even deserve your anger."

I laughed. "Vito, I'm not throwing a tantrum. I'm serious. I want a divorce."

His expression darkened instantly. The air around us seemed to freeze.

The family's Underboss, Marco Santoro, rushed into the room. Seeing the tense atmosphere, he immediately tried to mediate.

"Madre, the Don just likes to have his fun. Don't take it to heart. You'll always be our Madre."

Marco used to be the person I trusted most. When Vito wasn't around, he helped me handle family business. I once treated him like a younger brother, but now even he only told me to endure.

Vito shot me a cold glance and straightened his cuffs. "I have business tonight. Cool down on your own."

With that, he left the study without looking back, leaving me alone in the icy room.

I knew where he was going. To see that actress named Giuliana Barbieri, the one he called a distraction when he was bored.