My husband’s mistress locked me inside a hospital room, beat me while I was thirty-three weeks pregnant, and tried to force me to surrender my marriage, my company, and my unborn child. She thought my father was a harmless mechanic—until one phone call revealed he was the most powerful anonymous mafia boss in the world.

Before I could react, Odalys reached out and grabbed my wrist, squeezing until my bones creaked.

“What did your father find out about Kade Capital?” she demanded, leaning down until her breath hit my face. “Silas said you’ve been making secret phone calls to him.”

To Silas and the rest of the corporate board, my father, Marcus Osei, was nothing more than an aging, quiet mechanic who spent his days covered in engine grease in a rundown garage in South London. He was a simple man with dirt beneath his fingernails.

They had no idea that my father’s quiet, ordinary life was a carefully constructed mask.

To be honest, until that very moment, neither did I.

“My father knows enough to make you and Silas burn,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

SLAP!

The force of her palm across my cheek was so sudden and violent that my head slammed sideways against the hard hospital pillow. High-pitched ringing filled my ears, and the fetal monitor beside my bed instantly began to beep wildly as my heart rate spiked.

Odalys didn't care.

She reached down, unbuckled the thick leather belt from around her trench coat, and whipped it free from the loops.

“You think you’re special because you’re carrying his child?” Odalys whispered venomously. “Silas chose me. You’re just a legal complication.”

CRACK!

The leather belt lashed down, striking my bare thigh beneath the hospital gown. Pain flared like liquid fire across my skin.

“Sign the papers!” she commanded.

CRACK!

The second blow caught my shoulder.

I immediately curled my body into a tight defensive ball, wrapping both arms around my thirty-three-week belly, shielding my unborn baby girl with everything I had.

“Stop!” I screamed into the mattress. “Please! My baby!”

Suddenly, a hard knock rattled the locked door from the hallway.

“Mrs. Vance?” Nurse Priya’s voice called out. “Is everything okay in there? Your monitor is showing distress!”

Odalys froze. She quickly wrapped the leather belt back around her waist, grabbed the legal documents off the bed, and leaned close to my ear.

“Silas has two psychiatrists lined up to declare you postpartum psychotic,” Odalys whispered in a terrifyingly calm voice. “If you say a single word about this, you will spend the rest of your life in a padded room, and you will never see your daughter again.”

Odalys slipped into the private bathroom just as hospital security used a master key to force the door open.

When the guards burst in, Odalys stepped out of the bathroom with her hands raised, her face twisted into a picture-perfect expression of tearful concern.

“Thank God you’re here!” Odalys cried out to the guards. “I came in to deliver her husband's files and found her on the floor having some kind of panic attack!”

Pain tightened violently across my lower abdomen. The world began to spin as doctors rushed into the room.

I reached out with my blood-stained fingers and grabbed Nurse Priya’s sleeve.

“Call my father,” I gasped.

“Your husband?” Priya asked frantically, checking my pulse. “Silas Vance?”