Chapter 4

The black armored sedan ate up the highway.

I was wedged between two large men, my wrists bound behind me with a plastic zip tie that cut into my skin, choking off the circulation.

Claire sat in the front passenger seat, glancing back at me periodically with the smug expression of someone who had just won a great victory.

"You know," she began, her voice filled with a sick excitement, "my brother is at the villa on the hill right now, personally cooking dinner for Stella."

"They look so in love, so perfect for each other."

"And you?" She turned, her face close to the partition. "You're nothing."

I closed my eyes, trying to block out her words, but her voice slithered into my ears like a venomous snake.

"You think you can threaten him with a baby? You're so naive."

"The Gallo family bloodline will not be tainted by the likes of you!"

The iron gates of the main residence looked particularly grim in the setting sun.

They creaked open slowly, and the car proceeded up the gravel drive to the main house.

The bodyguards dragged me from the car and shoved me toward the front doors.

Inside the grand hall, the crystal chandelier cast long, dim shadows.

"Take her to the dining room," Claire's heels clicked sharply on the marble floor. "Let her see what the real lady of the house looks like."

The air in the dining room was thick with the aroma of roasted beef and red wine.

Candles flickered, creating a warm, romantic atmosphere.

Matteo sat at the head of the table, focused on cutting a piece of rare steak for Stella.

His movements were gentle as he brought the fork to her lips.

"Careful, it's hot," he murmured, his voice soft as a feather.

Stella looked at him with adoration. "Matteo, you're so good to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her hand rested on her swelling belly, her face glowing with happiness.

The sight felt like a fist clenching around my heart.

He had never done anything like this for me, never cared for me with such tenderness. Not even once.

"Look what the cat dragged in, brother." Claire strode into the room.

"She was making a scene again today! Trying to use the bastard in her belly to threaten the family!"

Matteo looked up and saw me, disheveled and held captive by his men.

My hair was a mess, a clear handprint was still visible on my cheek, and my clothes were torn from the struggle.

His brow furrowed, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice calm.

"She had the nerve to go to the family's private clinic for a check-up!" Claire threw the shredded pieces of my report onto the dining table. "I also heard she's been telling everyone the baby is yours! She's disgracing the family name!"

Stella shrank into Matteo's arms, feigning fear, her body trembling. "Matteo, I'm so scared... The way she looks at me... What if she tries to hurt our baby?"

"She won't," Matteo said, pulling her closer, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "I won't let anyone hurt you or our child."

Then he looked at me, his eyes as cold as a frozen lake.

"You disappoint me, Ava. Why must you always make things difficult?"

"I told you to lie low. To wait for me to handle things."

I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him the truth, to tell him I had done nothing wrong.

But seeing him shield Stella, seeing the disgust and disappointment in his eyes, the words died in my throat.

He wouldn't believe me. In his mind, I was already a crazed woman, an obstacle threatening his "true love."

"Since she can't behave," Matteo said, putting down his knife and fork, making no move to defend me, "put her in the cellar."

"Let her cool off."

"No one is to let her out without my direct order."

The iron door of the cellar slammed shut.

The heavy clang of the lock echoed in the darkness like a death knell.

I was shoved into this cold, damp cage, the air thick with the stench of mold and rat droppings.

Water seeped from the walls, dripping onto the floor with a monotonous rhythm.

This was the cage Matteo had chosen for me, so I could "think things over."

I curled up in a corner, my arms wrapped tightly around my stomach.

I've failed you, my sweet baby.