Chapter 3

I squeezed her cold hand. "Don't be sad. We're still alive. That's what matters. Maybe this is a sign that we need to go our own way."

"Let's rest for now. When we're better, we'll move out. Okay?"

Petra managed a simple, choked, "Okay."

Then she could no longer hold it back. Large teardrops rolled from her eyes.

She leaned on my shoulder, and we held each other, sobbing uncontrollably. The fear, the anger, the heartbreak—all the emotions we had suppressed for too long—finally broke free.

We thought we were forging an alliance to secure our family’s future. Instead, we’d signed on for a lifetime of pain.

I remembered when Lucian and I got married. The entire Chicago underworld envied Petra and me for marrying the twin brothers of the Grimaldi family.

"The two Principesse of the Russo family marrying the two heads of the Grimaldi family—it's the strongest alliance," they would say.

"It's the perfect union to solidify the bloodlines of two great crime families."

I remembered the day Lucian put the ring on my finger. As he kissed me, his eyes shone with a possessiveness I mistook for love. Felix had looked at Petra with that same deep affection. We had believed the Grimaldi brothers would protect us forever.

But that happy bubble burst three months ago when the brothers' stepsister, Cassandra, broke up with her Wall Street fiancé.

Lucian started ignoring my calls, using family business as an excuse to be out every night.

Felix was worse—drinking constantly, attending endless "meetings" without Petra.

It was only then that my sister and I realized the truth: our marriages were nothing more than a childish, retaliatory gesture by the twins against Cassandra.

All their declarations of love, all their promises of forever—it was all a selfish political calculation.

They claimed Cassandra was "just a stepsister," but in reality, she was the one they were both obsessed with.

It was pathetic how long Petra and I had been deceived.

We watched in silence as they welcomed the newly single Cassandra back to the Grimaldi estate, the brothers suddenly becoming doting and attentive in a way they had never been with us.

Two powerful family leaders, neglecting their duties, ignoring their pregnant wives, showing no concern for their own heirs—all of them revolving around Cassandra like satellites around a planet.

For three months, Petra and I were wives to ghosts.

There were no surprises on special days, no gifts, no affection.

Their bodies were sometimes present, but their hearts were somewhere else entirely.

We had ignored the obvious: their affections had moved on.

Perhaps there had never been any love to begin with.

Fate must have been laughing at our foolishness.

"The doctor said the neurotoxin permanently damaged my leg," Petra whispered, her head on my shoulder. "I can't fight like I used to."

I gently stroked her hair. "And I can't get pregnant again."

"It seems we've both lost what was most precious to us," she said, her voice hollow. "All for men who weren't worth it."

Lying on my sickbed, I scrolled through my phone.

Suddenly, a photo from Cassandra popped up.

It was a picture of her on a private jet, draped in Lucian's coat. The caption gushed about how Lucian and Felix had rescued her from the "kidnapping" and were now pampering her. The two family leaders stood protectively on either side of her, as if she were the most precious treasure in the world. They were nursing her back to health with the family's most valuable tonics and remedies.

She caressed her seven-month pregnant belly, the caption dripping with affection: "Thank you, Lucian and Felix. You always arrive just in time when I'm in danger."

The comments section was a flood of envy and praise.

"OMG, when will I get stepbrothers like that?"

"Cassandra is so lucky to be spoiled by the Grimaldi brothers."

But a few sharp-eyed commenters raised questions.

"Where are the Grimaldi wives? I heard the Don's wife, Genevieve, was ambushed by the Irish. Why didn't Don Lucian save her?"

Their concerns were quickly drowned out by a chorus of adulation.