Chapter 2

For those three days, I didn't leave the apartment.

I pulled the blackout curtains shut and lost track of day and night.

I sat by the window, gently touching my still-flat stomach, where a Capone bloodline was quietly growing.

My phone buzzed relentlessly on the table—

Missed calls: 47.

iMessages: 93.

All from Jason Capone.

The earliest ones were voice messages. I didn't play them. The later ones were texts:

*Alice, listen to me. I'll handle things with Sofia. Just give me some time.*

*She and I really are just a political marriage. Once the docks are fully under our control, I'll take care of everything. I promise.*

*The baby is innocent. Please don't do anything rash.*

As the days wore on, the tone of the Mafia heir's messages shifted:

*Do you really have to push me like this?*

*I already said I'd handle it. What more do you want from me?*

The last message came this afternoon. A single cold line:

*Surgery's tomorrow, right? Don't say I didn't warn you.*

I stared at those words for a long time.

After he'd risen from Made Man to Underboss, women threw themselves at him constantly—pressing up against him during business meetings, slipping potent aphrodisiacs into his drinks.

Every time, he'd have them tossed into the freezing harbor to sober up. Then he'd find me, kiss me with a desperate hunger, take me completely.

Promise me he'd never change.

Now, as Don, he was resorting to threats against me because of Sofia.

I didn't reply.

On the day of the surgery, I sat on the long bench in the hallway, the appointment slip damp with sweat in my clenched fist.

With ten minutes to go, hurried footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.

I looked up and saw my mother.

Her hair was a mess. Two of Jason's men trailed behind her.

"Alice!"

She rushed over.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

She was panting. "Jason called me."

"He said you two had a fight. That you're going to terminate the pregnancy."

"Alice—" She grabbed my hands. "Couples fight, that's normal. But you don't want to cross the Capone family in New York—that's no joke. And it's a life we're talking about. Don't take it out on the baby…"

"Mom, let go of me first."

She wouldn't.

That was when I got a good look at her face. Her eyes were swollen, ringed with dark, bruise-like circles.

"Mom, what happened? What's going on?"

Her gaze flickered. "Nothing. I was just worried about you, couldn't sleep…"

"That's not it." I stared at her. "Tell me the truth."

She opened her mouth, then her eyes turned red, her voice dropping to almost nothing:

"Your father… your father's company is in trouble. Several shipments got seized by Customs and the Federal Task Force. Suspected smuggling and money laundering… The penalties are more than we can pay. We might have to sell the house to cover the debts."

"I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to worry…"

The blood drained from my body in an instant.

"Mom, sit here and wait for me. I need to use the restroom."

I walked to the stairwell at the end of the hallway.

I dialed Jason's number.

"Made up your mind?"

His voice came through perfectly steady, as if he'd been sitting by the phone waiting.

"What happened to my father's company—that was you."

A soft laugh from the other end.

"Your father ran into some compliance issues at the docks. Normally, one word from me would've fixed it. But you insisted on cutting ties with me."

"So under the circumstances, I really don't see why I should help. Do you?"

His voice was gentle, conversational—like he was chatting about the weather. But it sent ice crawling down my spine.

"Jason, you're threatening me with my parents' lives."

His voice finally dropped, the pretense gone:

"I can make your father's problems go away. But if you insist on breaking up with me and aborting the baby—why would I lift a finger for a stranger?"

"Alice, I'm not that broke kid at the bottom of the food chain anymore. Tens of thousands of men depend on me for their livelihood. If I go soft for you, who's going to go soft for me?"

"I've already swallowed my pride to come to you. Doesn't that prove how much I love you?"

"And what about Sofia?"

A beat of silence on the other end.

"I'll handle it. Give me time."

I closed my eyes.

The stairwell was dark. Only the light above the operating room door glowed in the distance.

"Fine. I'll keep the baby."

On the other end, he let out a long, slow breath.

Then he said:

"Alice, thank you. I'll send the lawyers over right away. Your father's company will be stabilized by tonight."

I said nothing.

He added: "I know you hate me right now."

"But someday you'll understand—in this jungle where the weak are nothing but meat, everything I'm doing is for our future."

I hung up.

I stood in the stairwell, gripping my phone, perfectly still.

*For our future.*

I looked down at my belly.

Still flat, but something was taking root inside—a life he'd forced me to keep through power and threats.

I laughed.

And as I laughed, the tears fell.

He said he'd handle Sofia. He said to wait.

But not once—not a single time—did he say: *I'll divorce Sofia for you.*