My mother imprisoned my young pregnant wife inside a hidden room beneath our mafia estate, convinced her I had abandoned her, and left her wedding ring inside our baby's empty crib so I would believe she had run away. But the moment I found the desperate message she carved into the wall, I realized my wife had never escaped—and someone inside my own family wanted her to disappear forever.

“I stopped,” I said slowly, raising both hands in the air to show I was unarmed. “I’m not moving. Look at me, Sophia. Just look at me.”

Grace let out a sharp cry of pain, her head tilting back as another contraction hit her. Her eyes met mine—filled with fear, but beneath it, an incredible, stubborn resilience.

“You think you’re a Don, don't you?” Sophia spat, her finger twitching near the trigger. “Just like Vittorio. Sitting in your grand mansion, deciding who lives and who dies. Do you know what your father did to my sister? He locked her away when she discovered he was stealing from his own partners!”

“I am not my father,” I said firmly, taking half a step sideways to draw her attention away from Grace. “I didn't lock Elena away. I didn't lock Grace away. That was my mother’s doing—and she is currently sitting in a cell waiting for the police.”

Sophia blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“My mother is finished,” I continued, keeping my tone hypnotic and steady. “The police have the ledgers. The family council has turned against her. You won, Sophia. The people who ruined your life are destroyed. You don't need to do this.”

Grace screamed again, a raw, painful sound that cut through my heart.

“Adrian...” Grace choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks. “The baby... it’s coming now. I can’t... I can’t stop it.”

Sophia stared at Grace’s bump, her hands beginning to tremble slightly. The madness in her eyes flickered with a sudden, momentary hesitation.

“He... he shouldn't be born here,” Sophia muttered to herself, her voice suddenly sounding small and confused. “Not in the dark... like my baby was...”