Chapter 1

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart.

He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut.

But he’s the one who gave me these three scars.

The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side.

The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed.

When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital.

The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile.

He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.”

But this time, I didn't forgive him.

I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace.

And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

Chapter 1

I was Gavin Whitestone’s treasure for ten years. Then he abandoned me for another woman three times, and I finally saw the truth. I didn't love him anymore.

I have three scars. Each one is named Gavin Whitestone.

The first is just below my ribs, from a shootout two years ago. Sofia Bianchi ran out of a corner and took a bullet for Gavin. It hit her arm. Gavin sent every doctor in the city to her side, while I was left in a dark corner, pressing my hand to my stomach to keep myself from bleeding out from a piece of shrapnel.

That night, he held my hand and said, "Viola, put a bullet in me. If it makes you feel better, just do it." I saw the bloodshot veins in his eyes and my heart softened. Like a fool, I forgave him.

The second scar is on my shoulder. Sofia “bravely” went to Gavin’s room to “help” him after he was drugged. When I walked in on them, he pushed her away. But the moment Sofia clutched her stomach and cried out in pain, he rushed to scoop her up, slamming me hard against the metal doorframe as he ran out.

Afterward, the deed to a hundred-million-dollar pier was placed in front of me. And I forgave him again.

But I never expected a third time.

And this time, it wasn't a piece of my body he was taking, but my soul.

The VIP room of the underground casino was thick with the smell of cigars and whiskey.

Sofia was curled in Gavin’s lap, her finger pointing at my hip.

"Gavin, I'm all out of chips, but I want that," she whined, her voice was pure sugar, thick and cloying. "That silver gun is so pretty. So vintage and elegant. Can I play with it?"

My blood ran cold.

It was my revolver. The last thing my father left me, and a symbol of the Rossi family's past glory.

"No," I said, my voice ice.

Gavin hesitated, then melted under Sofia’s teary-eyed gaze.

"Viola, don't be so stingy." Gavin's voice was low, laced with a careless affection—for Sofia, of course. "The doctor said Sofia's emotions are unstable in her first trimester. She needs little things to keep her happy. It's just an old gun. I'll get you a better one."

"It was a gift from my father!" I shot to my feet, the chair screeching against the floor. "Gavin, that's my line in the sand."

"I should be your only line," Gavin frowned, clearly annoyed by my "childishness." He took the gun from my holster, his tone turning cold. "She's our savior, Viola. She took a bullet for me. Without her, I'd be dead. You need to show some gratitude."

Gratitude?

Using my father's legacy as a thank you gift for his woman?

Sofia smugly took the gun, playing with it in her hands, the barrel casually sweeping past my face. "Oh, it's a little heavy. Thank you, Viola. I'll take good care of it."

In that split second, everything changed.

A red laser dot cut through the smoke and settled on Gavin’s forehead.

"Sniper!"

Gavin’s reaction was terrifyingly fast.

But he didn't dive for me.

He spun around, shielding Sofia with his entire body, kicking over the table for cover.

And I, in my white silk dress, was left completely exposed. A beacon in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. A perfect target.

CRACK!

A bullet shattered the glass, whizzing past my ear and embedding itself in the wall behind me. Shards of glass sliced my cheek, and I felt warm blood trickle down.

If I hadn't instinctively bent down to grab my purse, that bullet would've taken my head off.

The room erupted into chaos as bodyguards stormed in.

Gavin finally looked up. After making sure Sofia was unharmed, his eyes frantically found me.

When he saw the blood on my face, his eyes went wide with terror.

"Viola!" He started to rush toward me.

"Stay back."

I stood up straight, not even bothering to wipe away the blood. That bullet didn't kill me, but it killed the last bit of love I had for Gavin.

I turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

I went home and pulled out the divorce papers from the bottom of my drawer.

Maybe I should have done this a long time ago.

I found Sofia.

"You see how dangerous the position of Mrs. Whitestone is," I said, my voice chillingly calm. "Since you want it so badly, we can make a deal."

Sofia looked at me warily. "What do you mean?"

"I want a divorce. You get him to sign these papers, and the title, the power, the man himself—all of it can be yours."

Greed flashed in Sofia's eyes.

"Are you crazy? Gavin will never agree."

"I know you have your ways, don't you?" I leaned in, whispering seductively. "This is your only chance to take my place. If I ask, he'll say no out of pride. You only get your shot once I'm gone..."

Sofia was a smart, wicked woman. She understood.

That night, she came to me in the guest room.

She handed me a file, her face lit with a joy she couldn't hide. "I did it. Don't you go back on your word."

I took the divorce agreement.

At the bottom, Gavin’s signature was just as familiar as it was on our marriage certificate five years ago.

I felt a sharp, tearing pain in my chest, but also, a sense of release.

Chapter 2

I called an encrypted number and arranged for a new identity.

After hanging up, I got ready to go to my lawyer’s office.

Gavin saw me on his way downstairs, his voice laced with a clumsy attempt at appeasement.

"Going out? Viola, did you get that cut on your face looked at? Let me call a doctor… And don't worry, as soon as the baby is born, I'll send Sofia away. We can start over."

He thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd be just like the last two times, that if he just bowed his head a little, I'd come running back.

I looked at the man I had once loved so deeply. He was handsome, powerful, the king of the New York underworld, yet he seemed so blind and pathetic in that moment.

"I'm going to my lawyer's office, to handle some... property matters," I lied, tucking the divorce papers into a stack of unimportant documents.

"I'll take you," Gavin said immediately. "I have to go out anyway, it's on the way."

Before we left, he made a detour to Sofia's room.

"You just rest. I have to step out for a bit, I'll be back soon," his voice was so soft it could have been water, and he gently patted her barely-there baby bump through the blanket.

I stood at the door, watching coldly.

The car moved through the bustling streets of Manhattan.

The silence in the car was deafening. Gavin, seemingly unable to stand it, tried to break it.

"Viola, remember this street?" He pointed to a French restaurant. "Our first date was there. My father was against us, said the Rossi family had fallen and wasn't good enough for the Whitestones. But I pulled my gun at the meeting, pointed it at the table, and told them if you weren't the Godfather's wife, I wouldn't be the Godfather."

He turned to me, his eyes full of emotion, trying to take my hand. "I swore that day I'd make you the happiest woman in the world."

I pulled my hand back.

"Yes," I said, looking at the passing scenery, my voice flat. "That Gavin would have fought the world for me. The Gavin of today nearly got me killed by a sniper."

Gavin's face stiffened.

"That was an accident, Viola. The situation was critical…"

Just then, his phone rang.

A special ringtone. It was Sofia.

Gavin glanced at me, hesitated for a second, but answered.

"Gavin! Help me… sob… I had a nightmare, there was blood everywhere… my stomach hurts so bad…" Sofia's panicked screams tore through the phone, loud enough for the whole car to hear.

Gavin's expression changed in an instant. All the nostalgia, guilt, and pleading vanished.

"Don't be scared, I'm on my way back!"

The screech of tires filled the air.

Gavin yanked the steering wheel, and the car stopped in the middle of the road. Outside, a torrential downpour had begun.

"Viola, get a cab to the lawyer's office," he said breathlessly as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Something's wrong with Sofia, it might be a miscarriage. I have to go back now."

We were on the expressway. There were no cabs here. The rain was so heavy you could barely see.

"Gavin, this is an expressway," I reminded him calmly. "You're just going to leave me here?"

"You're a grown woman, Viola! You can take care of yourself!" he yelled, his eyes filled with nothing but panic. "But Sofia only has me! If something happens to the baby, that's a life!"

That was his logic.

Because I was strong, I deserved to be abandoned. Because she was weak, she deserved everything.

"Fine."

I didn't argue. I opened the door and stepped out into the pouring rain.

I heard the engine roar behind me. Gavin's car made a sharp U-turn in the rain and sped off in Sofia's direction without a second thought, splashing muddy water all over me.

I stood in the rain, watching his red taillights disappear.

In that moment, Gavin Whitestone missed his last chance. If he had driven me just a little further, if he had glanced at the papers in my arms, he would have known I was leaving him for good.

But he didn't get that chance.

I walked three kilometers in the storm, arriving at the lawyer's office soaked to the bone.

"Mrs. Rossi, the proceedings have begun. Because of the assets involved, it will take about a month to finalize," the lawyer said, looking at me with pity. "You can still withdraw during this time."

"I won't need to," I said, signing my name. My fingers were cold, but my hand was steady. "The sooner, the better."

It was late when I returned to the villa.

I was burning up, my vision blurring. It was the start of a high fever. The long-term stress, combined with the storm, had finally broken me.

The villa was brightly lit.

As I passed the master bedroom, I heard Gavin’s gentle voice. He was reading a parenting book to the "traumatized" Sofia, his tone soft and full of wonder.

No one asked how long I had walked in the rain. No one asked why I was dripping wet.

I went back to my room and collapsed on the bed, too weak to even change.

Darkness washed over me. The fever made me delirious. In a daze, I thought I saw Death in a black robe, standing by my bed, beckoning to me.

Take me away, I thought. Get me out of this sickening place.

Chapter 3

I didn't die.

When I woke up, the fever had broken, but my body felt heavy as lead.

Gavin was sitting by my bed, holding a wet towel. When he saw my eyes open, a look of panicked relief washed over his face.

"Thank God, Viola, you're finally awake," he said, his voice hoarse as he took my hand. "Last night I… I didn't know you were so sick. I saw you came back and went to sleep, I thought you were just tired."

Of course he didn't know. He was too busy playing the doting father.

I pulled my hand away, staring blankly at the ceiling. "What is it, Gavin?"

My distance seemed to unsettle him.

"I've prepared the private yacht," he said eagerly. "Let's go out on the water, just the two of us. Okay?"

"Gavin… can I come too?"

Sofia was standing timidly at the door, her eyes wide with longing. "I've never been on a yacht before… The doctor said getting some fresh air is good for the baby."

She knew Gavin couldn't refuse her.

As expected, Gavin hesitated, then looked at me, torn. "Can we take Sofia? I promise, she won't get in our way."

I turned my head away, saying nothing.

I knew he was lying.

Sure enough, once we were on the yacht, Sofia whined that she wanted to try driving the speedboat. Gavin immediately gave her his full attention, teaching her step-by-step.

I sat alone at the stern.

"Slower, be careful," his voice drifted to me on the wind. "See? It's easy. You're a fast learner."

Sofia giggled, deliberately pressing herself into his arms. "Oh, it's so hard, my hands are too weak."

I couldn't watch them flirt anymore. I stood up and walked to the side of the boat.

I didn't see the malicious glint in Sofia's eyes behind me.

"Oops!" Sofia's hand "slipped," and the steering wheel jerked violently.

CRASH!

The side of the yacht slammed into the metal base of a buoy. The massive impact sent the boat lurching sideways.

It didn't capsize, but the jolt was enough to throw anyone off balance.

Sofia and I both lost our footing and fell from the open side into the sea.

The icy water swallowed me whole.

As I struggled to surface, my leg cramped from the lingering effects of my illness. The sharp pain made it impossible to swim.

"Help! Gavin!" Sofia screamed and thrashed in the water not far from me, even though she was wearing a life jacket and couldn't possibly sink.

I, on the other hand, had no life jacket. I was sinking.

Gavin jumped in without hesitation.

"My stomach! Gavin, the baby!" Sofia cried out.

Gavin paused in the water for a second.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with apology and anguish.

Then, he turned and swam furiously towards Sofia.

I'm sorry, Viola. You know how to swim, you can hold on. She's pregnant.

I could almost hear his thoughts.

Seawater filled my nose and burned my lungs.

I stopped struggling.

Through the shimmering surface of the water, I took one last look at the man I married. He was lifting Sofia, holding her like a priceless treasure as he passed her to the bodyguards on the rescue boat. He didn't even turn back to see if I had surfaced.

This was my husband.

The man I had loved for ten years.

I closed my eyes and let my body sink into the dark, cold depths.

So be it.

Let the Viola who loved Gavin drown.

If I survived this, the woman who climbed out of this sea would be the monster he’d created.

Chapter 4

The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my nose.

I opened my eyes, not to hell, but to Gavin's exhausted and anxious face.

The moment he saw I was awake, his eyes lit up, only to be replaced by a deeper turmoil.

"Thank God, you're awake," Gavin said, reaching out to touch my forehead.

I turned my head away. His hand froze in mid-air.

"Now that you're awake, Viola, I need you to do something for me," his voice was raspy, laced with a hint of a plea—or maybe it was a command.

I stared at him, the phantom pain of water still in my lungs. I had almost died, and he wasn't even asking if I was okay, just asking for a favor?

"Sofia's not doing well," Gavin said quickly, as if afraid I'd refuse. "The impact from the fall caused internal bleeding in her abdomen. The baby is unstable. We need to operate immediately."

"There are plenty of surgeons in this hospital," I said coldly, my voice like gravel.

"She doesn't trust them! She's been screaming that they'll kill her baby." Gavin grabbed my shoulders, his grip so tight it hurt. "She only trusts you, Viola. You're the best surgeon in New York, and you're my wife. You wouldn't harm the Whitestone heir, would you?"

I looked at him in disbelief.

He left me to die in shark-infested waters to save that woman.

And now he wanted me, who had just been dragged back from death's door, to save the mistress who tried to kill me?

"And if I don't?"

"Viola!" Gavin’s face darkened, his voice taking on the weight of the Godfather. "This is your duty to the Whitestone family. Stop being difficult. Once this child is born, once we have an heir, this will all be over. Sofia will be gone, and we'll go back to how we were, just the two of us. I swear it."

Go back?

Back to the time I foolishly believed he was loyal to me?

I was practically dragged to the operating room by Gavin.

I held the cold scalpel in my hand.

My hand was steady—a professional instinct, even though my body was so weak I could barely stand.

Sofia lay on the table, unconscious from the anesthesia.

As the nurse cut away her gown, revealing her chest, my scalpel stopped dead.

Just below her collarbone, near her heart, was a black tattoo.

It was a blooming black rose entwined with a dagger—the sigil of the Whitestone matriarch.

Only the Godfather's official wife was worthy of that mark.

When Gavin proposed, he had asked me to get it. I was afraid of the pain and refused. He told me it was okay, that he would never do anything to hurt me, and that having my name engraved on his heart was enough.

But now…

"Dr. Rossi?" an assistant asked, looking at me with confusion.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.

"Hemostat."

The surgery lasted two hours. I worked like a precision machine—cutting, suturing, stopping the bleeding. I wasn't saving her. I was honoring my oath as a doctor.

"The surgery was a success. Mother and child are stable."

The moment I said those words, the doors to the OR were thrown open.

Gavin rushed in. He didn't even glance at me. He went straight to Sofia's bedside, gripping her hand, his eyes red with relief, like a man who'd just pulled his entire world back from the brink.

"You did great, Sofia, you're so strong…" he murmured, as if the screaming woman had been the one fighting for her life on the table.

I leaned against the wall, trying to walk out, but my legs gave out and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

The loud thud didn't even make him turn around.

Before I lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was Gavin gently stroking Sofia's stomach.

…

I woke up again in a regular ward.

I was still alone.

A nurse was at the foot of my bed, updating a chart. She glanced at me with a flicker of pity that made my stomach turn. The whole hospital knew the Godfather had nearly killed his wife for his mistress.

"Mrs. Rossi, we need to update your admission form," the nurse said, handing me a pen. "We need to confirm your emergency contact and marital status."

I took the form.

In the "Spouse" field, the name "Gavin Whitestone" was pre-printed.

I picked up the pen and, with all my strength, drew a thick, black line through his name.

Then, beside it, I wrote, letter by letter:

NONE.

Just then, the door opened.

Gavin walked in, carrying a thermos, his face wearing that sickening mask of devotion.

He saw the form in my hand, and his smile froze.

"What are you doing?" Gavin's voice turned cold as a winter sea.

I looked up, handed the form to the nurse, my eyes as still and dead as a frozen lake.

"Just correcting a mistake."

Chapter 5

Gavin didn't explode over the form.

He tried to stroke my hair. "Are you still angry about what happened? I already explained, it was because of the baby…"

I dodged his touch, cutting him off.

Gavin sighed and pulled out a velvet box.

Inside lay a dazzling diamond necklace, the star piece from last month's Sotheby's auction.

"Stop it, Viola." Gavin fastened the necklace around my neck. The cold gems felt like a snake against my skin. "This is your reward. Thank you for saving Sofia. You're the most understanding wife."

I didn't refuse, nor did I show any of the joy his gifts used to bring me. I just nodded silently.

I had less than a month left.

I didn't want any more trouble before I could leave.

"I'm tired. I want to go home."

Gavin, thinking I had given in, let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, the driver is downstairs. I have to stay here tonight to watch over Sofia, she hasn't woken up yet."

I returned to our marital home alone.

The moment I walked in, I took off the necklace and threw it into a packing box, along with all the other jewelry, designer bags, and custom gowns Gavin had ever given me.

I didn't want this trash.

I started erasing every trace of myself from the house. Photos, my toothbrush, the book I was halfway through… I was going to make it so Gavin Whitestone could never find a single trace of Viola Rossi in his life again.

The next morning, just as I threw out the last box, the front door was kicked open with a violent crash.

Gavin stormed in.

He was no longer the tender husband from yesterday. He was an erupting volcano.

"What have you done, Viola?!" Gavin growled, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt like it would crush my bones.

I grunted in pain.

"If you're here to have a meltdown, please leave," I said, looking at him coldly.

"A meltdown?" Gavin sneered, pulling a blood-stained plastic bag from his pocket and throwing it on the floor. "Look at this!"

Inside was a delicate emerald brooch.

I had lost it last week. It was Gavin's gift for our third anniversary.

"Last night, there was an attempt on Sofia's life," Gavin's voice was a terrifying whisper, each word ground out from between his teeth. "The assassin was from the Ricci family. He almost killed her! And this brooch was found in his pocket!"

"Why was your property on him? I need an explanation."

I looked at his contorted face and found it laughable.

Framed. Such a clumsy setup. Sofia couldn't even be bothered to come up with a clever plot because she knew that when it came to her and the baby, Gavin would turn into an idiot.

"If I wanted her dead, I would have done it on the operating table. I wouldn't have waited until now," I explained calmly, even though I knew it was useless.

"You're just pissed that I forced you into surgery! So you want revenge!" Gavin refused to listen, his reason consumed by rage. "Viola, when did you become so vicious? Colluding with a rival family just to get my attention?"

"I didn't."

"Enough!" Gavin let go, and I slumped to the floor. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Viola, as the Godfather, I have to answer to the family. Betrayal must be punished."

I was locked in the Whitestone family's solitary confinement cell.

No windows, no light, just endless, cold darkness.

"Just for two days, Viola. I want you to think about what you've done," Gavin said coldly before leaving without a backward glance.

I curled up in a corner, my consciousness drifting in the dark.

On the third night, I smelled something burning.

Then, thick smoke began to pour in from under the door.

Fire.

Someone was trying to burn me alive.

"Gavin… help me…" Survival instinct made me fumble for the tiny backup phone hidden in the sole of my shoe. It was my last resort.

My trembling fingers dialed the number I knew by heart.

Ring… ring…

It connected.

"Gavin, help me… there's a fire…" I rasped into the phone, using my last bit of strength.

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Then, a sweet, malicious female voice answered.

"Oh, is that you, Viola?"

It was Sofia.

My heart seized.

"Where's Gavin? Put him on the phone! I'm in the cell, it's on fire!"

"Gavin?" Sofia giggled, and I could hear the faint clink of a spoon against a ceramic bowl in the background. "He's in the kitchen. He said he doesn't trust the store-bought prenatal supplements, so he's brewing some for me himself. It's so sweet of him, isn't it?"

"Tell him… I'm going to die…"

Sofia's voice turned venomous. "You shouldn't have gotten in my way. Rest in peace. I'll be sure to love him for the both of us."

The line went dead.

In that moment, a despair hotter than the flames consumed me.

Thick smoke filled my lungs. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face.

Gavin, you are so… so cruel.

Chapter 6

I didn’t die.

My father’s old, loyal bodyguard broke through the fire and carried me out.

As I lay on the lawn, gasping for air, I saw Gavin sprinting towards me like a madman.

"Viola!"

Seeing my soot-covered face and singed clothes, the color drained from his face.

"How did a fire start? Who did this?! Find them! Find them now!" he roared, then fell to his knees beside me like a helpless child, wanting to hold me but afraid to touch the burnt edges of my dress.

"I'm sorry… Viola, I didn't know… I didn't hear the phone…" his voice trembled.

I closed my eyes, exhausted. Even looking at him felt filthy.

Just then, Sofia came stumbling over, innocent tears on her face. "Oh my god, is Viola okay? It's all my fault. I was having terrible morning sickness, and Gavin was busy taking care of me, his phone was on silent… sob… I almost got you killed…"

Gavin immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into his arms. "It's not your fault, Sofia. Don't cry, you'll stress the baby."

I pushed myself up from the grass, shakily getting to my feet.

Seeing me stand, Gavin pulled a gun from his waistband and forced it into my hand.

"Viola, it was my fault. I shouldn't have locked you up. If you're angry, shoot me." He grabbed my hand, pressing the muzzle against his own chest. "Just like before. Anything to make you feel better."

He was using that trick again.

Before, I would have cried, thrown the gun down, and hugged him.

But now, I just looked at the gun in my hand, feeling its absurd weight.

I let go.

Thud.

The gun fell to the grass.

"Get out," I said, my voice quiet but filled with all the strength I had left. "Take your woman and get out of my sight."

Gavin froze. He had never seen me look at him with such coldness, like he was a complete stranger.

"Viola…"

I turned and walked away, ignoring his calls.

I spent a week recovering.

Gavin called countless times, but I refused to see him.

But as the Godfather’s wife, I had to attend the Whitestone family dinner.

When I arrived, Sofia was already there, sitting next to Gavin’s mother, Nonna.

Nonna was lovingly stroking Sofia’s stomach, looking pleased.

The moment she saw me, her smile vanished.

"As the wife of the Godfather, you arrive late. What kind of example is that?" she said, not hiding her disdain. "Sofia is the sensible one, knowing what's important—giving the Whitestone family an heir."

Gavin stood beside me, cutting her off. "Mother, Viola hasn't been well. I told her she could come late."

I didn't appreciate his defense.

I let out a cold laugh.

"It was Gavin who begged me to marry into this family," I said, looking Nonna straight in the eye. "And it was your son who swore to me that even without a child, I would be his only wife. He said he didn't want a child to take away his love for me."

I turned to Gavin. "Isn't that right, Gavin?"

Gavin looked down, unable to meet my eyes or his mother's.

"That was before he was bewitched by a little fox like you!" Nonna swung her cane, about to hit me. "Since you won't have a child, then get out! Let Sofia be the matriarch!"

The scene devolved into chaos.

Just then, Sofia, who had somehow ended up beside me, let out a gasp.

She was standing on the edge of a short flight of stairs. In front of everyone, she threw herself backward dramatically.

I was the closest person to her, but I hadn't touched her.

"Ah! Viola, don't—"

Sofia screamed as she tumbled down the three steps, clutching her stomach as she hit the floor. "My stomach… it hurts…"

"Sofia!" Gavin rushed to her side.

Nonna, trembling with rage, stormed up to me and slapped me hard across the face.

SMACK!

The sound echoed through the hall. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood.

"You venomous bitch! How dare you harm my grandchild!"

A dead silence fell over the room. All the bodyguards, all the servants, were staring at me. Gavin, holding Sofia, looked up at me with utter disappointment. "Viola, you've disappointed me more than I can say."

Disappointed?

I wiped the blood from my lip. My cheek was on fire, but my heart felt clearer than ever.

I walked step by step towards Sofia, who was still playing the victim in Gavin’s arms.

She looked up as I approached, a flash of triumph in her eyes.

"Since you're all so sure I pushed her."

I suddenly bent down, grabbed a fistful of Sofia's hair, and as she shrieked in terror, I yanked her out of Gavin’s arms and shoved her hard into a nearby stone pillar.

THUD!

This time, the impact was real. Blood bloomed on her forehead.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Gavin roared, trying to get up.

I had already stepped back, looking coldly at his entire family.

"This time, I did it."

I reached up and tore the heirloom necklace, the symbol of the Whitestone matriarch, from my neck.

I held it up high.

And then I smashed it onto the marble floor.

CRASH!

The priceless gems shattered into a thousand pieces, just like my ten years with Gavin. Broken beyond repair.

All the noise stopped.

Gavin stared blankly at the glittering dust on the floor.

I turned my back on the wreckage, my spine straight.

I didn't look back. I just left them with my final words.

"Gavin, I want a divorce."

Chapter 7

Gavin Whitestone lost his mind.

He tracked me down to a small, hidden apartment that had belonged to my father.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three deafening gunshots.

Gavin stood in the doorway, his Beretta 92F smoking, pointed at the ceiling. His once-loving eyes were shot with red, like a gambler who had lost everything.

"Divorce? Don't even think about it!" he roared, stalking towards me until I was backed into a corner of the sofa. "Viola, you are a Whitestone. You're mine in life and in death. The only way you leave me is in a coffin!"

I looked at his madness, my expression unchanged.

"Then kill me," I said, looking up at him. "My heart already drowned in the sea."

Those words seemed to stab him. Gavin’s face twisted, then hardened into a darker threat.

"You want to die? Not that easy." He leaned in, one hand slamming against the wall by my head, the other gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You don't care about your own life, but what about the peace of your parents? Their graves are in the Westside cemetery. If you take one step away from me, I'll have them dug up and their ashes poured down the sewer."

The old me would have collapsed, crying and begging for mercy.

But I just stared at him, a flicker of pity in my eyes.

He didn't even know. A month ago, when I first planned to leave, I had my loyal old butler secretly move my parents' urns. The graves he was threatening were empty.

He mistook my silence for submission.

The violence in Gavin's eyes faded, replaced by a sick, twisted tenderness.

He dropped the gun and pulled me into a brutal hug, so tight it felt like he was trying to crush me into his bones.

"Don't make me do this, Viola… Don't push me," he buried his face in my neck, his voice trembling. "I can't live without you. You know I did all this for the family, for the baby. Just a few more months. Once Sofia has the child, I'll give her a pile of money and ship her off to Australia. You'll never see her again. Then we can start over, okay?"

I let him hold me, my body as stiff and cold as a stone.

Start over? You can glue a broken mirror back together, but it will only ever show you the cracks.

For the next few days, Gavin acted like we were back in the beginning. He played the part of the perfect husband, trying to pretend everything was fine.

He stopped visiting Sofia at the hospital and focused all his energy on "guarding" me.

He cooked me breakfast, burning the eggs but insisting on trying again the next day. He had truckloads of the latest couture delivered, stuffing my walk-in closet. He even pulled me close during a press interview, smiling for the cameras.

"Mr. Whitestone, we heard about a fire at your villa, and there are rumors of a rift in your marriage?" a reporter asked.

Gavin's arm tightened around my waist until I could barely breathe. He smiled charmingly for the camera and kissed the top of my head. "That's nonsense. My wife was just a little shaken up. I love her more than my own life. She is my one and only."

The flashes were blinding.

I forced a stiff smile.

In Gavin’s eyes, it was a sign I was softening.

Back at his office, he insisted on holding me in his lap while he went over the family's core finances.

"Look, Viola, these are the shipping routes for next quarter," he said, his chin resting on my shoulder. "I want you to manage them from now on. You always wanted to be more involved in the business, right?"

I said nothing, just mechanically flipped through the documents.

He was building a golden cage, trying to lock up a bird that was already dead.

Chapter 8

In a final attempt to win me back, Gavin took me to the old house.

It was a small brick building in Brooklyn where we grew up together, the place the Whitestone family started before they became an empire. It held all our purest memories.

"Remember this oak tree?" Gavin touched the rough bark, his eyes impossibly gentle. "Ten years ago, right here, I swore to you that I would build a new empire, a family with no betrayal and no lies."

I looked at the tree. I remembered. The sun was bright that day, and the young Gavin had a light in his eyes, not the calculating ambition he had now.

"Viola, let's stay here for a few days. Just us. No bodyguards, no Sofia, no troubles." He took my hand and opened the dusty front door.

Everything inside was just as it was a decade ago.

Gavin went to the backyard to roast sweet potatoes, something we used to do.

While he was gone, I went up to the attic.

In the corner was a rusted safe.

It was Gavin's most private space. Years ago, he told me it held his "original heart."

On a whim, I reached out and entered the combination: my birthday.

With a click, the safe opened.

There were no gold bars, no secret files. Just an old tin box. Inside was a single, yellowed letter addressed to "My future wife, Viola."

My fingers trembled as I opened it.

The paper was brittle, the handwriting young but strong.

Viola,

When you read this, we must be married, right? Do I kiss you every morning and tell you I love you? Have I taken you skiing? I know it's your favorite. Have I made you the most envied Mrs. Whitestone?

No. None of it.

I don't know what the future Gavin will be like. But my father's cruelty and his women disgust me. I swear, I will never become a monster like him. If one day, I hurt you for profit, if I become a liar with a mistress, please, don't forgive me. Please, either kill me or leave me. Because that Gavin is no longer the Gavin who loves you.

Tears fell onto the paper, blurring the ink.

The Gavin from ten years ago, across a vast expanse of time, had just passed judgment on the Gavin of today.

Just then, I heard Gavin's frantic voice from downstairs.

"Viola! Come down, quick!"

I wiped my tears, stuffed the letter into my pocket, and went downstairs.

Gavin was on the phone, his face grim, the earlier tenderness gone.

"Sofia's trying to kill herself at the hospital," he said rapidly, grabbing his jacket. "She's having a PTSD episode, seeing things, threatening to slit her wrists. The doctors can't stop her."

The same old trick.

Every time we had a moment of peace, Sofia would have a perfectly timed "crisis." And every time, Gavin would choose her.

"You're leaving?" I asked calmly from the stairs.

"It's a matter of life and death, Viola!" He didn't see this was his last chance. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "She's pregnant, she's unstable. I'll be right back. You wait for me here. Don't go anywhere."

He didn't even look back as he rushed out the door.

The roar of the engine faded into the distance.

The house was quiet again, except for the crackling fire.

I took the letter from my pocket and walked to the fireplace.

"Goodbye, Gavin."

I tossed the letter into the flames. The paper vanished instantly, the words "please, leave me" turning to ash in the firelight.

It was his final request. I was granting it.

My phone buzzed. "Ms. Rossi, this is the law firm. Your divorce has been officially finalized. You are free."

"Thank you."

I hung up and took out the fake passport and plane ticket I had prepared.

I sent Gavin one last text: I'm at the old house. I need some time alone. Don't look for me.

I walked out of the old house. A black, unmarked car was waiting at the corner. It was a contact from the dark web, ready to drive me directly to a private airfield.

Two hours later, I was on a plane leaving New York.

I looked down at the glittering lights of the city. It was a monstrous, glowing beast that had devoured my youth, my love, and my innocence.

Gavin was probably at the hospital right now, holding a crying Sofia, patiently coaxing the blade from her hand. He was probably thinking that after he calmed her down, he'd come back and roast me those sweet potatoes.

But he would be waiting forever.

Goodbye, Gavin Whitestone.