Chapter 4: The Price of Being Too Proud

The morphine made everything seem fuzzy, but it couldn't hide the pain in my chest. Emma was asleep in her little hospital bed right next to me. Her tiny hands were clenched into fists, and she didn't know about the legal fight going on over her future.

Richard Blackwood, Mikel's lawyer, sat in the visitor's chair with another file. His expensive suit stood out in the plain hospital room. Even though I was still on painkillers, I could see that look in his eyes—like he'd just won a big case.

"The custody agreement is all done, just like you signed," he said, his voice all business. "Mr. Sterling gets Emma every other weekend starting when she's six weeks old, plus some holidays, like it says in the agreement."

Six weeks old. My own daughter would be taken from me when she was barely old enough to see clearly. She'd be passed back and forth like she was some object in a deal.

"What if I want to move?" I asked, even though I knew the answer already.

"You have to stay within fifty miles of Seattle, unless Mr. Sterling says it's okay in writing." Blackwood gave a thin smile. "He's paying a lot of money in support, Mrs. Sterling. I think you'll find it's more than enough for what you need."

What I need. As if money and visiting schedules were all that mattered. As if my broken marriage was just another thing on a legal form.

After Blackwood left, I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember who I used to be. Just three years ago, I was Izabela Romano, set to take over one of the biggest companies in Europe. I gave all of that up for a man who promised me forever, but instead he betrayed me.

The irony wasn't lost on me. I left behind a fortune to marry a rich guy, only to find out that money can't buy everything—like loyalty, honesty, or the decency to break up with someone before moving on to someone else.

Emma stirred in her bassinet, making those soft baby noises that always got to me. She had Mikel's dark hair and stubborn chin, but when she opened her eyes, I saw my own determination in them. I promised myself that she would grow up strong and never be anyone's victim.

The door opened quietly, and I looked up, thinking it was just another nurse with more medicine. But then I saw someone from my past—tall, with gray hair, and with that kind of presence that made important people listen up.

"Nonna Elena?" It was barely a whisper; I couldn't believe it.

Elena Romano stood there like she was ready to fight, wearing an Armani suit. Her gray eyes took in everything in the room, just like she did when she was building her company. She was seventy-two years old and still had a way of commanding attention.

"Mia cara," she said softly, her accent making the endearment sound beautiful. "You look awful."

I actually laughed a little—a sad, broken laugh. "Nice to see you too, Nonna. I wasn't expecting this. How did you even know?"

She moved to the bassinet and looked down at Emma. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. "I made sure I knew when my great-granddaughter was born," she said simply. "She's beautiful, Izabela. She has Romano eyes."

The Romano eyes: dark brown with gold spots, passed down through generations of strong women who wouldn't let any man break them. Looking at Emma, I realized it was true.

"You haven't talked to me in three years," I said, trying to sound calm. "Ever since I chose love over what I was supposed to do, remember? Ever since I walked away from everything you worked for to play house with a guy who couldn't even stay faithful while I was pregnant."

Elena's jaw tightened, but she kept looking at Emma. "I remember a stubborn girl who thought love was all she needed. I also remember telling her that family is more important than feelings, and that when things fell apart, we would still be here."

Those words hurt because they were true. Three years ago, I stormed out of the Romano house in Italy because I was mad at Elena for being old-fashioned about marriage and what I was supposed to do. I chose love over power, and I ended up paying for it in the worst way.

"So you came here to say 'I told you so'?" I asked, trying not to sound bitter.

Elena finally looked at me, and I saw something fierce and protective in her eyes. "I came here to take back what belongs to me," she said quietly. "Both of you."

My heart skipped a beat. "Elena—"

"You're a Romano, bambina. This child is a Romano. And Romanos don't hide in hospital beds while unimportant men tell them what to do." She sat in the chair Blackwood had been in, sitting up straight like she was talking to a world leader. "Tell me what happened—everything."

So I did. I cried, I got angry, and I was more honest than I'd ever been. I told her everything: the affair, the divorce papers, the custody agreement that would take Emma away every other weekend. I told her about Sophia's smug smile and Mikel's coldness, and about signing the papers while I was still bleeding from giving birth to his daughter.

Elena listened without saying a word. Her face got darker and darker. When I was done, she sat quietly for a long time, putting her hands together like she always did when someone was about to get in big trouble.

"Your husband thinks he's won," she said finally, her voice quiet but scary. "He thinks you're weak, alone, and beaten. He's made up this custody agreement and is paying you money like you're some mistress instead of the mother of his child."

"I signed the papers, Elena. It's over."

"Papers can be fought over. Agreements can be changed." Her smile was like a knife. "Especially when someone didn't know everything about the other person's... resources."

Resources. That word meant something big. Romano Enterprises wasn't just a company—it was huge, with businesses in technology, medicine, and media. The family was so rich that Mikel's money was nothing compared to it, and Elena knew how to use that.

"I left all of that behind," I reminded her. "I chose love over money, remember? I wanted a simple life with a man who promised me forever."

"And how did that work out for you, cara mia?" Elena asked, sounding gentle but not forgiving. "You gave up your family for a man who couldn't even keep his promises to you. You made yourself weak when you were supposed to be strong."

Just then, Emma woke up and stared right at Elena, like she knew who she was. My grandmother—great-grandmother now—picked Emma up like she'd been doing it forever.

"Ciao, piccola principessa," Elena said softly, and Emma seemed to calm down. "You look just like your nonna did when she was a baby. Strong. Determined. Born to lead, not to follow."

Watching Elena hold my daughter, I felt something inside me start to wake up—something that had been asleep for three years. Pride. Not the fake kind I'd been using to get through my pregnancy, but the real confidence that came from knowing who I was and what I could do.

"What are you saying?" I asked, even though I already knew.

"I'm saying you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start fighting to win." Elena's eyes sparkled. "You are Izabela Romano Sterling, set to take over one of the most powerful families in the world. Your daughter is a Romano, and Romanos don't bow down to anyone."

"The custody agreement—"

"It was signed by a woman who had just given birth and thought she didn't have any other choices." Elena held Emma comfortably. "A good lawyer could get rid of that agreement before your husband even finishes his coffee. A great lawyer could make sure he never sees this child again unless you say it's okay."

It was like there was a gun between us. I could fight back. I could stop being the weak, left-behind wife and become the strong woman I was born to be. I could make Mikel and Sophia pay for what they did, and make them realize what they lost.

But that meant going back to a world I had left behind, accepting help from a family I had turned away from, and becoming someone I didn't want to be.

"There's a cost," I said, because there always was with Elena. "There's always a cost for Romano protection."

"The cost is remembering who you are," Elena said simply. "The cost is taking your place as my heir, raising your daughter to know what she comes from, and never letting anyone make you feel small again."

Emma made a noise against Elena's shoulder, and something broke open inside me. This wasn't just about me anymore. It was about what kind of woman I wanted my daughter to be and what kind of strength I wanted her to have.

Did I want Emma to think that love meant accepting betrayal? That marriage meant taking whatever you could get while another woman took what was yours? That being a good wife meant making yourself smaller so you could fit into someone else's life?

Or did I want her to know she was a Romano—strong enough to build empires, smart enough to beat her enemies, and valuable enough to never settle for less than she deserved?

"If I do this," I said slowly, "if I take your help and get my inheritance back, Mikel will fight back. He'll use everything he has to stay in control."

Elena smiled like a predator. "Let him try. Sterling Industries is okay for an American company, but it's nothing compared to Romano Enterprises. Your husband has been playing a child's game, bambina. It's time to show him what a real game looks like."

I closed my eyes and felt the last bit of my hopeful self disappear. The woman who believed in happy endings was gone. Now there was someone tougher, smarter, and much more dangerous.

When I opened my eyes, Elena was watching me like she could see the change happening.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

"First, we get you out of this hospital and somewhere safe so you can get better. Then we teach your husband what happens when he messes with us." Elena stood up, still holding Emma. "By the time we're done, Mikel Sterling will know what it costs to betray a Romano."

The morphine was wearing off, and I could feel the pain again—but it was different this time. It felt stronger and more purposeful. It was the pain of being reborn, of changing, of a phoenix getting ready to rise from the ashes.

"And Emma?" I asked, reaching for my daughter.

Elena gently put her in my arms, and I felt a new sense of responsibility. "Emma will grow up knowing she is loved, protected, and strong enough to change the world. She will never doubt herself or settle for less than she deserves."

Looking at my sleeping daughter, I made a promise to her that would change both of our lives: she would never know the weakness that almost destroyed me. She would be Romano through and through—strong enough to build kingdoms and smart enough to never give them away for a silly dream.

The girl who signed those divorce papers while she was in pain and felt defeated was gone forever. Now, there was someone that Elena would recognize, someone that the world would fear and respect.

Izabela Romano was coming home.

And God help anyone who got in her way.