Locked in His Tower, I Left His Mafia Empire Forever

To make it in time for the birthday of a childhood acquaintance, Lockard locked me inside the tower of our estate. As fate would have it, that very day, the estate was attacked by a rival family. Trembling, I hid in a corner and called the Underboss on his encrypted private line. “Help me… I’m locked in the tower. Someone has broken in—” But the response on the other end was cold and indifferent. “Ma’am, the Godfather instructed us that you might cause a disturbance today just to get his attention. Please cooperate and don’t make this difficult for us.” The line went dead. I contacted the family’s security adviser instead. After verifying the situation, the adviser hesitated before telling me, “Ma’am, your identification code has been temporarily frozen. We need Don Vito’s personal confirmation before we can lift the security alert.” The call was transferred to Lockard, who was attending the party. He said only one thing: “She’s throwing another tantrum. Ignore her.” Heavy footsteps drew closer and closer from the end of the hallway. I twisted the heavy curtains into a makeshift rope and climbed over the third-floor window ledge. I survived. But the family doctor told me: I was pregnant. The baby was gone. And that very night, in the banquet hall on the other side of the estate, Lockard was personally cutting birthday cake for his childhood acquaintance.