From Betrayed Wife to Nobel Queen

I staggered through the door, head spinning.

All I wanted was to wreck the place, march straight to the Corleone Tower, and scream it out—the Don was screwing his stepmother.

But Omertà was branded into my bones.

The Bettinis don't break. From day one it was drilled in—never rat, never shame the name.

Even if your husband's a monster.

"Ugh."

The rush of rage twisted into nausea. I clung to the sink, throwing up till the room tilted.

Sweat and tears blurred together.

Never had I wanted divorce more.

Yeah, I loved him. But what was I these three years—especially the last two months?

A free whore. A front to hide their filth.

I'm done playing that part.

Another wave tore through me. I heaved until nothing came up—then it hit me. No period this month.

Giovanni used to keep his distance. We barely touched, so I never paid attention.

But these last two months? Every night. No protection.

Hands shaking, I ripped open the test, whispering in my head, Please, not now. Please, no.

I used to dream about a baby. Now, the thought of two red lines felt like a death sentence.

"No..."

The result stared back at me. My mind went blank as tears dripped onto the stick.

Game over.

If this had happened sooner, I could've walked away.

But now? I was carrying the Corleone heir. Giovanni would never let me go.

The phone buzzed—my father.

I wiped my face and answered, bracing myself.

"Come home this weekend," he barked. "I hired someone to teach you how to be more charming. Can't even keep your husband—how did I end up with such a useless daughter?"

I bit my lip, the words 'I want a divorce' stuck in my throat.

The man who shoved me into this hell was never gonna pull me out.

The old-school side of the Family had been fading for years. Now, the Bettinis leaned on the Corleones just to breathe.

My father would never help me escape Giovanni.

The line went dead. I slid to the floor.

If I wanted out, I'd have to do it myself.

I stood, ready to toss the test.

Then the door swung open. Giovanni stepped in, frowning.

"Lili?" His eyes dropped to the stick. "What's that?"

Too late.

He ripped it from me, and when the result sank in, his whole face lit up.

"You're pregnant?"

The joy looked so damn real.

If I hadn't caught him with Helena, I might've believed it.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna be a father!"

He cupped my face, leaning in. I turned away, stiff.

Didn't faze him. His eyes sparked like he'd just cracked some genius plan.

"Lili, sweetheart, I've got the best idea."

My stomach knotted.

"You're pregnant now. You need someone to care for you, and I'm swamped. So... why don't we bring Mother here? She's family. I'd feel better with her looking after you."

He was actually thrilled to move Helena in—so they could keep sneaking around under the same roof as his pregnant wife.

"No!" I snapped.

His smile dropped. "You gonna spit on a Don's offer?"

That look in his eyes chilled me. I stepped back without thinking.

He caught himself, softening fast.

"Sorry. I'm just worried about you and the baby."

He reached for my face. I flinched back.

His eyes went cold.

Fingers clamped around my chin.

"This isn't up for debate. From now on, you stay home. Your only job is to deliver my heir."

Then he walked out.

I crumpled to the floor, staring at my stomach, hollow inside.

At some point, I drifted into sleep.

My dreams were nothing but pain.

My father's cold stare.

Relatives' eyes, heavy with expectation.

And Giovanni's body—hungry, relentless—

but the woman beneath him wasn't me.

Cruel laughter snapped me awake.

I yanked the curtains open.

Down in the garden, Giovanni was hauling Helena's bags from her car.

They laughed together, close as newlyweds.