The Bishop's Gambit She Burned the Throne to Save Her Blood

Nico's phone suddenly buzzed on the nightstand.

The moment I saw the caller ID, a wave of disgust rose in my throat.

**My Love.**

That was how he had saved her contact.

Two years of marriage to me, the daughter of a Don, and he hadn't even bothered to hide it behind a code name.

That was how little he respected me.

That was how certain he was that I would never discover the truth.

My fingers trembled as I unlocked the screen.

The wallpaper stopped me cold.

An ultrasound image.

A woman's womb.

If Valentina hadn't sent me the exact same image earlier, I would have assumed it was my own child and never questioned it.

That was the plan.

That had always been the plan.

I opened their message thread.

**Nico:** *Baby, I heard pregnant women crave sour food, so I asked Marco to source some specialty imports. I'll bring them to you later.*

**Valentina:** *Won't your underboss get suspicious?*

**Nico:** *Suspicious of what? He'll assume it's for Bianca.*

**Valentina:** *Would you give her half too? I thought you only loved me.*

**Nico:** *Of course not. She's a picky eater. Wasting my effort on her is pointless. You're the only woman I've ever truly loved. I would've had the annulment drawn up months ago, but after her miscarriage she fell into depression. People felt sorry for her. She was too dependent on me, and leaving then would've made you look bad. So I kept her around.*

**Valentina:** *You're the best, Nico. But I'm lonely and craving pastries right now.*

**Nico:** *Alright. I'll bring them to you.*

Every word felt like a knife being driven deeper into my chest.

I bit down hard on my lip, desperately trying to stop the sobs threatening to escape.

So that was all my children had ever meant to him.

Not sons.

Not daughters.

Not lives created from love.

Only heirs.

Only bloodline currency.

Only stepping stones securing his future as Don.

My vision blurred.

Still, I forced myself to keep reading.

Then something unexpected caught my eye.

An attached document.

My heart skipped a beat as I opened it.

The Ferraro dowry holdings.

The waterfront villa.

The safe houses.

The legitimate businesses my father had spent a lifetime building before they buried him in the ground.

My entire body went numb.

Then the numbness transformed into pure rage.

I stared at the signatures in disbelief.

The properties my parents had left for me had already been transferred.

To Valentina.

Months earlier, Nico had claimed the Family was struggling financially.

Tribute collections were declining.

Shipping operations were losing money.

He told me liquidating some of my holdings would ease the pressure on Family finances.

And I believed him.

Like a fool, I trusted him.

I handed control over willingly because that was what a loyal wife was supposed to do.

Because I thought marriage meant partnership.

Because I thought he was my family.

And in the end, everything my parents left me landed in the hands of his mistress.

My body shook violently.

As though sensing my distress, the baby shifted inside me.

A sharp kick.

Restless.

Uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," I whispered instinctively, pressing a trembling hand against my stomach.

Then I began gathering evidence.

Screenshot after screenshot.

Messages.

Property records.

Purchase histories.

Luxury orders delivered to my villa.

The villa where Valentina now lived.

Furs.

Jewelry.

Designer handbags.

Every expense traced back to Ferraro money.

Money my father had earned.

Money Nico had stolen.

When I finished, I carefully returned the phone to its exact position on the nightstand.

Then I climbed into bed.

Pulling the duvet over my head, I buried my face in the pillow and cried silently.

I couldn't let him see me break.

A few minutes later, I heard his footsteps.

The bedroom door opened.

Nico walked inside.

He picked up his phone and smiled softly as he read Valentina's latest messages.

A smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

Eventually, he sat down beside me.

His palm drifted over my stomach in a familiar gesture.

"Baby," he said gently, "Marco and I have a sit-down tonight regarding the situation near the docks. Some unaffiliated crews are pushing into our territory."

The lie came naturally.

Effortlessly.

"I won't be home until tomorrow."

As he stood up to leave, I grabbed his arm.

My strength was nearly gone.

But I couldn't stop myself.

"I've been waiting for you all day."

My voice cracked.

"Can't you stay with me tonight?"

Even then, part of me still wanted to believe.

Still wanted to convince myself that the boy I grew up loving could never betray me this completely.

For our child.

For our marriage.

For everything we had once been.

Nico looked down at me.

For a moment, guilt flashed across his face.

His fingers brushed away the tears streaming down my cheeks.

Yet he couldn't meet my eyes.

"I..."

He hesitated.

"What is it, baby—"

His phone beeped.

Instantly, everything changed.

His attention shifted.

His expression shifted.

His priorities shifted.

Just like they always did.

"Darling, I can't put you above Family business."

His voice softened with false patience.

"Please understand."

He paused.

"I'll ask your mother to come stay with you."

When I didn't answer, he finally looked at me properly.

The expression on his face faltered.

Because I wasn't looking at him like a husband anymore.

I was looking at him like a stranger.

"Bianca..."

"Go."

My voice was calm.

Too calm.

That final chance I had offered him was discarded without hesitation.

Just like everything else.

For a moment, he stood frozen.

Then he turned and left.

The bedroom door clicked shut.

Moments later, the front door followed.

Then came the low rumble of the armored sedan starting in the driveway.

And finally—

Silence.

A vast, suffocating silence settled over the Moretti estate.

As though something had been removed from the house forever.

Slowly, I dragged myself out of bed.

I called for a car.

Old Enzo answered.

As always.

His voice was rough but reassuring.

"Where to, Signora?"

"The waterfront villa."

I swallowed hard.

"The Ferraro property on Riverside."

When we arrived, Nico's car was already parked outside.

Across the street, I watched him step out and scan the area carefully.

The way men checked for surveillance before doing something that could get them killed in any other Family.

Then he rang the bell.

The front door opened.

Valentina rushed straight into his arms.

My hands tightened around my phone.

I recorded everything.

The embrace.

The smile.

The kiss.

The tenderness.

The way his hand settled naturally against the small of her back.

Exactly the way he used to hold me.

Tears blurred my vision.

Still, I kept recording.

Then Nico slowly lowered himself to one knee.

With infinite care, he pressed a kiss against her stomach.

Against the child she carried.

A child he celebrated.

A child he wanted.

The pain in my womb intensified immediately.

A sharp, twisting agony.

Yet I couldn't move.

Couldn't speak.

Couldn't even cry.

I simply sat there frozen in the backseat, watching my marriage die.

A short while later, Nico helped Valentina into the passenger seat.

He fastened her seatbelt himself.

His movements careful.

Protective.

Loving.

Their laughter drifted through the night air.

I gasped as another wave of pain hit.

This time stronger.

More urgent.

Slowly, my fingers brushed over my wedding ring.

Not for comfort.

For farewell.

The ring would be gone soon.

Just like him.

"Enzo."

My voice barely rose above a whisper.

"Can you follow them to the hospital?"

Enzo looked at me through the rearview mirror.

One glance was enough.

Concern immediately softened his weathered features.

Without asking questions, he pulled back into traffic.

When we arrived at the private clinic, he even helped me out of the car.

"Signora."

He held the door open gently.

"Having a child is precious."

His voice was quiet.

Steady.

"A woman deserves happiness and peace. Not a man shameless enough to abandon his wife."

He paused.

"Please take care of yourself."

"Don't carry all this pain alone."

Something tightened in my throat.

This old man had shown me more compassion in a few minutes than my husband had shown me in years.

I nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, Enzo."

Then I lowered my hand to my stomach.

A sense of calm slowly settled over me.

For the first time all night, I could finally think clearly.

I wasn't living for Nico anymore.

I was living for my child.

"Don't worry."

My voice was steady.

Stronger than before.

"That man means nothing to me now."

I looked toward the brightly lit hospital entrance.

And for the first time, I truly believed my own words.

"Soon, I'll be completely free of him."