I wouldn’t. I would never forgive them.

***

The Romano estate was eerily silent when we got home. Noah fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted from his birthday—his birthday, the one his father had chosen to celebrate with someone else. I tucked him in, brushing his curls from his forehead. His peaceful face made my chest ache. He didn’t understand. He still believed his father was some kind of hero.

I wished I could protect him from the truth.

Once his breathing evened out, I left his room and collapsed onto my bed, sobbing until my body felt empty. Jason Romano. Mafia boss. My husband. The father of my child.

And Lily?

She was my baby sister. The one I never imagined would be the cause of mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories came anyway—uninvited, relentless, cruel.

Jason had pursued me relentlessly, the way only a man used to getting what he wanted could. When the Moretti Empire sent me to Paris for business, Jason booked a last-minute flight just to be with me.

“I couldn’t live without you for a whole week,” he had said, standing in the hotel lobby with a bouquet of tulips.

I had called him crazy. He had just kissed me and said, “Crazy in love.”

That was Jason.

Affectionate. Possessive. Mine.

Then we got married.

On our honeymoon, he whisked me away to Sydney, where we spent a month indulging in luxury, walking along the harbor, and making love under city lights. He had promised me forever. When Noah was born, he became even more protective, refusing to let me lift a finger. Every night, he held me close and whispered, “I love you more than anything in this world.”

I had believed him.

Then Lily came back.

She had been studying fashion design abroad for years, and when she returned, she was more beautiful than ever—elegant, stylish, the kind of woman people admired. Jason noticed.

I saw it—the way her eyes lingered on him, the way she laughed just a little too much at his jokes, the way Jason suddenly had so much to say to her. But I told myself it was nothing. Lily was my sister. Jason was my husband.

Then one night, I walked into our master bedroom and saw them—curled up in bed together.

My heart stopped.

“Jason?” My voice barely came out.

Lily sat up immediately, pulling the blanket around her. Jason, on the other hand, didn’t even look guilty.