Chapter 2

I stared at the photograph.

Those were the ultrasound reports Dante had once promised to treasure.

Now they were lying beneath another woman’s handbags.

Before I could respond, Sofia started a video call.

I answered.

She appeared on the screen, smiling brightly. Behind her stood rows of expensive handbags.

“Look what Dante bought me!”

She picked up one of the bags.

“Limited edition. Number one in the entire collection.”

Then she casually pointed at the papers underneath.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I needed something to protect the bags from scratches, and Dante had these old papers lying around.”

My throat tightened.

“They’re my baby’s ultrasound reports.”

Sofia smiled.

“Really? I thought they were just some useless medical papers. Dante said it was nothing.”

Then Dante appeared behind her.

His eyes narrowed when he saw me.

“Elena? Why are you wearing a hospital gown?”

I held up the discharge papers. “Because I was in the hospital.”

His expression darkened.

Before he could speak, Sofia interrupted.

“Dante, don’t let her frighten you. I used to work as a nurse, remember? False labor happens all the time.”

She lifted her wrist, revealing a faint red mark.

“Besides, Elena called me seven times last night. I was terrified. I fell down.”

Dante immediately took her hand.

“Does it hurt?”

Sofia shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m fine. I just don’t understand why she hates me so much.”

Dante looked back at me.

“Apologize to Sofia.”

For a moment, I thought I had misheard.

“What?”

“She spent the entire night worrying because you couldn’t control your emotions.”

I looked at the man on my screen.

The Don who could identify a traitor from a single inconsistency in a financial report.

The man who trusted no one, not even me.

Yet he had accepted Sofia’s accusations without checking a single call record.

“Did you even ask why? I’m in the hospital…” I whispered.

Dante’s jaw tightened.

“Sofia has never lied to me.”

“Apologize, Elena. Then we’ll put this behind us.”

I shook my head and ended the call.

Minutes later, my phone received a notification.

“Your access to the Vitalino family accounts has been suspended.”

Then Marco Ricci, Dante’s Consigliere, called.

“Mrs. Vitalino, Don Vitalino has instructed me to deliver a document.”

“What document?”

“A personal conduct agreement.”

He sent it over.

I opened the file.

There were three conditions.

“Attend every prenatal appointment without complaint: waiting penalties reduced by twenty percent.”

“Maintain emotional stability and avoid unnecessary arguments: waiting penalties reduced by thirty percent.”

“Offer Sofia Bellini a sincere apology: all waiting penalties removed.”

At the bottom was a final warning.

“Any violation will result in doubled waiting penalties and continued suspension of financial privileges.”

I stared at the document.

Dante had actually created rules governing how long he would make his own wife wait.

As though affection were something I had to earn. As though my time belonged to him.

And all I had to do to regain it was apologized to the woman he had chosen over our dying child.

The next morning, Dante called.

“Did you block Marco?”

I was folding the baby clothes I had purchased months earlier.

Tiny white socks. A blue knitted sweater. A soft blanket embroidered with silver stars.

“I don’t accept threatening messages from anyone,” I replied.

“Elena. Stopping acting like a baby. You signed an agreement when you married into this family. Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.”

I placed the little sweater inside a cardboard box.

“I know exactly who I’m speaking to.”

“Then stop behaving like this. You’re going to be a mother.”

I said nothing.

My baby died. So did my patience and all my love for Dante.

“Every minute you waste arguing will be added to your future waiting time.”

I looked at the boxes stacked beside the door.

Everything I had bought for our baby was going to a children’s charity.

The expensive furniture I purchased alone for this so-called family would be sold.

I wanted nothing left in that house to remind me of the life I had imagined.

“Fine,” I said.

Dante paused.

“What?”

“Double it. Triple it. Make me wait another ten years if you want.”

My voice was strangely calm.

“Because I’m done waiting for you, Dante. We’re done.”

He went silent. He was a bit shocked. I had never said things like this.

Then he spoke in a dangerously low voice.

“Elena, I’ll be home this afternoon. Is that what you want? Let’s talk about this in person.”

I thought he had finally begun to understand. And I considered whether I should have given him another chance.

But when I looked out of the window several hours later, I saw his armored convoy entering the driveway.

Dante stepped out first.

Sofia followed him holding his hand.

And behind them, Marco carried a leather folder and a camera.

I suddenly understood.

Dante hadn’t come home to apologize.

He had brought witnesses.