Peaches whimpered, a single, perfect tear trembling on her lash. “Anya, sis… I know I’ve wronged you. I just wanted to apologize properly, to wish
you and my brother the best. Why would you hurt me like this? You know I just found out I’m pregnant.”
Everr if you hate me,” she sobbed, “the baby is innocent.” She took Dante’s hand and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “Brother… this
Chapter 2
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baby is…” She lowered her eyes, her meaning clear.
But Dante’s reaction was not what I expected. He wasn’t ecstatic. He just stared at her, his expression unreadable.
Marco stepped forward, full of righteous indignation. “Boss, she’s been taking advantage of her pregnancy. She called Miss Peaches a whore carr- ying a bastard, cursed her to keep breeding like a pig. She even tried to hit her with a rock! I stopped her, and she threatened me with the baby in her belly, saying you’d kill me if anything happened to it. I don’t mind being wronged, but Miss Peaches is too kind to be bullied like this!”
Dante turned to me, the crimson fury in his eyes telling me that no explanation would ever be believed.
“Anya, Peaches saved my life. Have I not told you that I will not let anyone harm her? Not even you, my wife, carrying my child!”
Carrying his child?
I staggered to my feet, a bitter, mocking laugh escaping my lips. “Dante, tell me. Is the child I’m carrying really yours?”
His face froze. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he defensively turned the tables. “If it’s not mine, whose do you want it to be? Marco, take her back and lock her up. No one is to let her out without my command.”
With that, he scooped Peaches into his arms and strode away without a backward glance.
Marco squatted in front of me, holding two sharp, wicked–looking steel nails. He grinned sadistically. “Ever seen our specialty? Bone–breakers. Just one of these, and this foot of yours is done for. You’ll be crawling on the ground like a dog for the rest of your life.”
My eyes widened in terror. He stomped on my foot, and with two sickening crunches, hammered the nails straight into my ankle.
The world dissolved into a symphony of agony, and then, darkness.
! woke up two days later.
My phone was flooded with Peaches‘ bragging posts. It was a side of Dante I had er seen in three years. The formidable syndicate boss, pers-
onally cooking for a woman, washing her feet, braiding her hair. Feeding her bite by bite, with a mountain of gifts piled in the background. They were at an amusement park, sharing a piece of cake, the love in their eyes practically tangible.
I swallowed my tears and, dragging my pain–wracked legs, I retrieved the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago. Along with them, I placed the med- ical report from eight years ago, detailing the wounds I sustained while saving him, and a small audio recorder, all in the most conspicuous spot.
I pulled myself to the window and climbed onto the ledge. Below, the ocean churned. In the distance, a small, unassuming boat was already appr-
oaching.
A message from Dante lit up my phone. “Have you learned your lesson? If you come and kneel before Peaches and apologize, she might forgive
you.”
Another followed. “I’ve already put in a good word r you. Just be obedient. Don’t make things difficult for me.”
I typed back my reply. “My biggest mistake was on a dark night eight years
a harbor in
a
foreign land, when I saved a man in black who had
been stabbed eight times.”
I dropped the phone and threw myself into the sea.
On the ground, the phone began to vibrate, frantically, as if it
were having a seizure.
