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The night before my wedding, I did something incredibly stupid. I’d just finished a night shift in the ER. When I got home, I powered on the old family iPad, the one that had been passed around for years, wanting to find a few photos of us at eighteen to make a surprise video. Tomorrow, the private chapel would be filled with important figures from both our Families. That wedding would make me Stefan’s wife, publicly acknowledged. It would place me under his protection. Instead, I logged into a long-forgotten cloud account and found a hidden album. It was full of photos of Stefan and my sister, Francesca, dating back five years. Some were taken in rooms only Family members were allowed to enter. Stefan’s hand was on her waist. She was wearing his cufflinks, sitting in the seat that should have been mine. The last file was a video from the night before. The camera shook. Francesca was crying, and Stefan was holding her. “Stefan,” she sobbed, “after tomorrow, everyone will acknowledge her. We can’t keep doing this. I can’t take it anymore.” He was silent for a few moments, his voice low when he finally spoke. “My entire life is being signed over to Celine.” “If there’s a next life, I pray it’s nothing like this one.” I froze, convinced I’d misheard. It was a long time before I called my mother. When I finally spoke, my voice wouldn’t stop shaking. “Mom, I…” “I know,” she cut in, her voice heavy with a sigh. “You heard something you weren’t supposed to.” “Stefan hasn’t had it easy these past few years. He and your sister have been together for five years. They could never go public because of you.” “Francesca is divorced, with a child. She lives under the Bellini Family’s protection. If Stefan were to switch brides now, before the wedding, the Morettis would never acknowledge her. Our allies would start to question your father’s word.” “Celine, listen to me. In the next life, don’t stand between them again.” The tears on my face had gone cold. My hand trembled so badly I could barely hold the phone, but I still made myself call Francesca. When she picked up, the first thing I heard was her ragged breathing and the rustle of sheets. Then she choked back a sob. “Celine, forgive me. Just…let me have him for tonight.” “I’m not trying to take your name or your position tomorrow. I’m just asking that if there’s a next life, you don’t stand in our way again.” I hung up, the tears finally breaking free. Fine. There was no need for a next life. In this one, I would give him to her. ... Stefan didn’t come home until the next morning. He carried the scent of Francesca’s rose body wash, and his hair was still damp. He locked his shoulder holster and coat in the cabinet by the door, then glanced at me. “You’re up early.” “Couldn’t sleep,” I said. I paused, my eyes fixed on him. “Stefan, let’s cancel the wedding.” He turned. When he saw my red-rimmed eyes, he froze. “What are you talking about?” “I saw some things last night,” I said. “On the old iPad.” His hand stilled on the cabinet door. I watched the color drain from his face. “Celine, did you go through my things?” I laughed. I hadn’t even had the chance to accuse him, and he was already turning it on me. “If I hadn’t, would you have just kept lying to me forever?” “Stefan.” I stared at him, my eyes burning. “Don’t you and her disgust yourselves?” Without warning, he slammed his fist into the wall beside my head. Plaster dust rained down. The men standing guard outside heard it, but no one came in. Stefan was the underboss of the Moretti Family, the publicly designated heir. Without his permission, no one would dare interfere with what happened behind this door. I flinched back on instinct. He looked at his reddened knuckles as if he hadn’t expected to lose control, then drew his hand back, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. “If you want to curse someone, curse me,” he said, his voice tight. “Not her.” I raised my hand to slap him. “How dare you?” I spat. “Stefan, not even my father has ever threatened me like this.” My hand never landed. He caught my wrist in a brutal grip, hard enough to bruise. A cold smile twisted his mouth. “Your parents?” “They’ve known about your sister and me all along.” I stared up at him, my mind a complete blank. He met my gaze, his voice laced with mockery. “Remember last Thanksgiving? You’d just gotten home, and your mother took you out shopping. Your father said he was going to get you that apple pie you like.” “They were giving us time alone.” I couldn’t say a word. He let go of my hand. “Celine, wake up.” “If I were you, I’d take what little guilt I still feel and go through with this wedding quietly. You’ll get the Moretti name, the protection, and the position of wife to the heir.” “After all, not even the head of the Bellini Family and his wife are on your side.” I sank to the floor, the tears finally spilling over. “Why?” I looked up at him, my voice trembling. “Why would you do this to me?” “Stefan, I’m not someone who has to have this, no matter what.”“If you had to be with Francesca, I could have accepted it. I would have broken our engagement, called off the wedding, and let you choose her.” “Why hide it? Why is everyone lying to me?” “If you love her, why are you marrying me?” My chest ached, a physical pain that made it hard to breathe. He just stood there, watching me. After a long silence, he gave a short, harsh laugh. “What do you think? You didn’t actually believe it was because I loved you, did you?” He bent down and wiped a tear from my chin with his thumb, his voice a soft, chilling caress. “Francesca is your sister. She’s divorced, with a child. Your father protects her, but the Morettis would never accept her as wife to the heir.” “If I cancel the wedding and acknowledge her instead, it will be public knowledge that the Bellini’s eldest daughter is with her own sister’s fiancé. She and her child would lose protection first, and your father’s credibility would be shot.” He steadied my shoulders, his voice calm and rational. “So, if I don’t want her to pay the price, you have to be the one to make the sacrifice.” I stared at him, a deep chill spreading through me. “You’re going to use our wedding as a cover? Have both Families publicly acknowledge me, just so you can keep her as your real wife?” “You’re not stupid.” He smiled, brushing a fingertip against the tip of my nose. “So you’ll cooperate, won’t you?” I slapped his hand away. “Stefan, what makes you think I would ever cooperate with you?” “You will.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a medical report, and laid it in front of me. “Your physical last week. You’re pregnant.” The Moretti family doctor had given the report to him first. In this world, even the secrets of my own body were subject to a chain of command. “Celine, this is our child. After the wedding, he’ll be entered into the Moretti line of succession.” “You don’t want him born without a father, without the Family’s protection, do you?” “Besides, you’ve loved me for ten years. You gave me the best decade of your life. Can you really bring yourself to walk away now?” “If this wedding falls through and you’re carrying an unacknowledged Moretti heir, who do you think would dare take you in?” I picked up the report, but my hand was shaking too badly to hold it steady. Tears fell onto the paper, blurring the words one line at a time.Suddenly, I laughed, even as tears streamed down my face. “Stefan, you’re ruthless.” He smiled back, ruffling my hair. “Be good, Celine. You have no other choice.” “And one more thing. Don’t make trouble for Francesca. I don’t want her to feel burdened by any of this. Understood?” I looked at him, at the single-minded way he moved to protect her, and it felt like I was seeing him for the very first time. He stood and walked past me. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until my whole body ached. The nausea clawed its way up my throat, and I couldn’t tell if it was the pregnancy or just him. I sat on the freezing tile, cried for a long time, and then started to laugh. After a moment, I took out my phone, stopped the recording, saved the file, and set three timed backups. Then I contacted an OB-GYN I used to work with and scheduled a termination. Stefan was wrong. I had a choice. My medical license and my career were enough to support me, somewhere far from any Family’s protection. All I had to do was be willing to strike harder than he was. The next day, we were supposed to go to the municipal office for our marriage license. After the public ceremony at the church, the Moretti adviser would enter my name and the baby’s into the Family records. Stefan called me over and over. I didn’t answer. Finally, Francesca called. “Celine.” Her voice was gentle, shaded with mild reproach. “Today is the day for the paperwork. Why aren’t you here?” “Did you and Stefan have a fight? I’ll talk to him for you. Just come over and get this done, okay?” Listening to her, she felt like a complete stranger. As if the woman in the video, cradled in Stefan’s arms, was someone else entirely. How I wished that night had been nothing but a nightmare. That I could wake up and she would still be the sister who doted on me. And Stefan would still be the man I had trusted for ten years. But they weren’t. I lay on the bed in the private clinic, my voice hoarse. “I’m sick. I can’t make it.” “Tell Stefan to reschedule.” Then I hung up and opened the feed from the hidden camera I’d installed in the living room.

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