He Betrayed the Wrong Wife

I thought I was the Conti family's "legitimate wife."

Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Christian, resting his hand on my stepsister Emma's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future.

Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir."

Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy.

I didn't cry and didn't make a scene.

I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment.

Twenty-four hours later, Christian's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized—

That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife.

He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family.

But what I really wanted to know was—

When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

My husband, Christian Conti’s hand was still on my stepsister Emma's belly.

That one picture stabbed my eyes raw.

"Rory, don't be mad at Christian." Emma lay back on the bed, wearing that harmless, innocent smile.

"The doctor said I'm not in great shape. Christian was just scared something would happen to me and the baby, so he kept it from you."

I let out a soft laugh. Yeah, "not in great shape". Emma was paralyzed. I honestly didn't think Christian could even bring himself to do it with her.

Emma heard that laugh and kept going, voice sweet as syrup:

"We're doing this for you. You're the Donna of the Conti family. How can you sit in that seat without having a child of your own?"

"Those capos and partners are all watching you. The second people outside smell an empty heir's chair, they'll pounce like dogs."

Then she patted the back of my hand like we were sisters sharing secrets.

"Once the baby's born, we'll register him under your name. He'll call you Mom, okay?"

On the side, my father cleared his throat and put on his elder's authority.

"Rory, Emma is carrying my only son, also the Conti family's only Don heir."

Christian started to persuade me too. He finally lifted his hand off Emma's belly.

"Emma's already inconvenient as it is, and she's still willing to take on the burden for you, for the Conti family. And you're not even grateful? You're pulling a dead face for whom, exactly?"

The way he looked at me was like I was a "failed family member," not his wife.

Then he walked toward me.

He reached for my hand, but I stepped away.

His arm froze in midair.

"Rory, we've been married all these years. Do you not get it?"

"Everything I'm doing is for you, for us. I can't let people gossip behind our backs that the Conti family's Donna can't