Chapter 1

A week ago.

I was alone in the hospital, trying everything to scrape the money together.

A hundred thousand dollars.

To Carmine, that was nothing but a single night at his club.

I called him like a madwoman.

Every second I waited, I could feel the baby slipping away inside me.

The fourteenth call. Finally, someone answered.

But the voice on the other end was Bianca's.

"Claire? The Don is in a meeting. He can't come to the phone. What is it?"

She'd always called me by my first name. Never Donna.

But this was an emergency. I didn't have it in me to care. My voice was shaking.

"Bianca, put Carmine on. I'm showing signs of a miscarriage. I need a hundred thousand for treatment."

A beat of silence. Then Bianca let out a soft laugh.

"You know the Don's rules. Submit a request first. I'll review it when I have time."

"This is urgent. I'll fill out the process afterward…"

"No!"

Bianca cut me off instantly. Then her tone shifted into that condescending voice people use on a misbehaving child.

"You know you're not Sicilian. The elders watch every cent you spend. Don't make this hard on me…"

She paused, then said, word by word, "And don't make it hard on the Don."

The cramping in my lower belly came in waves, each one stronger than the last.

The clock on the hospital wall became a blade. Every tick carved a fresh, bleeding wound into my chest.

I gritted my teeth and sent Carmine a voice message. Still nothing.

No one in the family dared lend me money privately. That was openly questioning the Don's rule.

For my child's sake, I messaged everyone who might help.

The fastest response came from the Falconi family.

Their Don, Vito Falconi, was Carmine's sworn enemy. And once, my arranged marriage prospect.

Twenty minutes later, Vito's consigliere, Enzo Rizzo, was standing in front of me.

"The Donna of the Marchetti family," he said, looking at me with mockery, "can't even scrape together a hundred grand?"

I clenched my fists. "Cut the crap. Name your terms."

"The Don is in Mexico on an arms deal. But this amount, I can authorize."

Enzo handed me an agreement.

"You're not exactly living the dream as Donna. Why not join the Falconi family?"

"As for the hundred thousand," he paused, "that waits until the Don is back. He'll decide personally what to do with it."

After he left, a hundred thousand dollars landed in my account.

I stared at it for a long time.

In the Marchetti family, I was the Donna managing billions in assets.

And this Donna was worth exactly a hundred thousand dollars.

The surgery was a success. The baby survived. But my heart was still hanging in midair.

I had to pay this debt back. I couldn't bring shame on the Marchetti family.

I gritted my teeth and filled out that damned spending request form in the system.

I waited a full hour. My phone buzzed.

I checked quickly. It was Bianca's rejection notice.

[Amount too large. Missing supporting documentation of use. Rejected.]

I swallowed my fury, uploaded my medical records and the doctor's diagnosis as attachments.

Half an hour later, another rejection popped up, stinging my eyes again.

[Itemized expense list required, including unit price of medication.]

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until the taste of iron filled my mouth.

The treatment wasn't even finished. Where was I supposed to get an itemized list?

I forced the rage down and messaged Bianca.

"Approve the request first. I'll fill in the details after treatment. Refund the difference if there is one."

"The money is borrowed. Don't make the Marchetti family lose face."

An hour passed before Bianca replied. First, a string of cute emojis.

Then her voice message, dripping with fake regret.

"Claire, I want to help you too."

"But borrowing from outsiders is your personal business. With incomplete documentation, I won't use family money to pay off your personal debt."

"The Don has said this repeatedly. No exceptions just because you're his wife."

The call ended. And Carmine's phone still went unanswered.

I was like a tree ripped out of the ground by a storm, standing alone.

Keep adding documents. Keep submitting.

Then keep getting rejected.

But I had to keep going, like something was pushing me from behind.

Seven rejections in total.

I was tired.

I left Carmine a message, explained the situation, and started waiting for one last turn.

An hour later, he finally replied with a voice message.

His words were slurred, dragging at the ends. He was clearly drunk.

"Too long… can't hear it clearly… if you need money, go submit a request to Bianca…"

That message became a sharp blade. And my eyes were the most sensitive wound.

One more look would make them bleed.

What hurts more than pain is waiting with hope.

And my wait brought back nothing but ruins.

Just then, my phone buzzed again.

Bianca had updated her social media.