The PTA Meeting That Ended Us

My name is Carmela Romano.

My wedding to Enzo Moretti, the mafia boss, comes with a price tag of hundreds of millions. The extravagant affair leaves the world utterly astonished.

Enzo declares his love with a sky full of fireworks and fills the venue with a million roses. The ten-carat ring on my finger gleams brilliantly, outshining everything around me.

Everyone envies our love story.

But one day, everything falls apart. After a brutal attack by a rival gang, I suffer a miscarriage. To my disbelief, Enzo is absent, preoccupied with a parent-teacher meeting for Luca Vitale—the son of his childhood sweetheart.

After 66 unanswered calls, Enzo finally texts me.

"I'm at Luca's parent-teacher meeting. Stop calling me!"

"Luca grew up without a father. I'm only helping him this once. There's no reason to make a scene!"

Blood seeps out beneath me, and the agony in my stomach is unbearable. I can only sink deeper into despair.

The child I've waited for all these years is gone.

The snow falls heavier with every passing moment. I close my eyes, yearning to escape this world with my baby.

But miraculously, a patrolling officer discovers me, barely clinging to life.

When I wake in the hospital, one thought burns in my mind.

"I want a divorce. Enzo, I'm done with you."

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed.

The patrolling officer who saved me was there, and a doctor was carefully tending to my wounds.

Instinctively, I whispered, "Where's my baby?"

My voice came out raspy and broken. I realized it had gone completely hoarse.

A look of pity passed over the doctor's face. "The baby didn't make it. If you'd been brought in ten minutes earlier, we might have been able to save them."

Even though I had been dreading this answer, I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face.

I reached for my phone and typed a message to Enzo Moretti, my husband. "Let's get a divorce."

Hours slipped by, and there was still no reply.

I typed another message. "I was in a car accident. The baby is gone. I'm at Central City Hospital."

Still, the silence stretched on.

After I contacted my lawyer and sent Enzo the divorce agreement, my phone finally rang.

To my shock, it was Bianca Rossi.

"Ciao, Carmela, please don't be upset. Luca's parent-teacher meeting required both parents' attendance, so I had no choice but to ask Enzo for help.

"Please don't let this affect your marriage. Also, you shouldn't use your child as a pawn in this matter. Enzo loves you deeply. You'll only end up hurting him by doing this."

Just as I was about to speak, Enzo's voice cut in.

"Carmela, can you please stop bringing up the baby and divorce every time something happens? Show some maturity!

"The parent-teacher meeting required both a father and a mother. Luca doesn't have a father. I was only helping this once. You're a mother yourself. How can you be jealous of a child?"

Toward the end, his voice rose, escalating into a shout.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. "I swear I'm not lying! Our baby didn't make it. The Tattaglia family rammed their car into me! They said if you ever go near their turf again, they'll kill me next time!"

Even as I wept, Enzo sneered coldly.

"I had Dante check on you. He told me you were watching a movie at home. I even called Central City Hospital. They said no one suffering a miscarriage has been admitted in the past two days. You'd better stop lying to me!"

Just then, Bianca's voice came through the phone. "Don't be angry, Enzo. Carmela's just lying to get your attention."

"Bianca, there's no need to defend her. Joking about an innocent baby's fate just to get my attention isn't how a responsible mother behaves!"

Without another word, Enzo hung up.

When I tried to call back, his phone was turned off.

I decided to email him the medical report I had gotten from the hospital.

The patient in the bed next to mine had overheard everything. She looked at me with pity and handed me a tissue. "A man like that isn't worth your tears. Stay strong."

Her words only made my tears fall harder.

For this baby, I had endured more than a dozen rounds of IVF and countless hormone injections to maintain the pregnancy. No one knew how deeply I had longed for this child.

But in the end, I still lost my baby.

As I rested my hand on my empty belly, a searing ache ripped through me.

Enzo would never know the truth. While he went for another child's parent-teacher meeting, his own baby had slipped away from this world.

The first time the Tattaglias ran me down, I had fallen but hadn't been seriously hurt.

As they got out of the car, they pointed at me menacingly. "If your husband hadn't taken over our territory and cost us hundreds of millions, we wouldn't be drowning in debt! Today, you'll get a taste of revenge. We'll destroy his heir!"

I begged them to spare me and my baby, insisting I could convince Enzo to pay them back.

They allowed me to make calls, but not a single one was answered.

The Tattaglias eventually lost their patience. They got back into the car and struck me again.

This time, my baby didn't survive.

Their threat still echoed in my mind. If Enzo ever defied them again, they would destroy me completely.

Tears poured down my face. Maybe this marriage had been a mistake from the very beginning.

It was clear that Enzo had never truly loved me. The person he cared about was his childhood sweetheart, Bianca.

Three months ago, she had returned with her son, Luca Vitale, following her divorce. Since then, Enzo had been taking care of them.

Not only had he helped enroll Luca in an elite international school, but he had also bought them a villa right next to ours.

He even hired a maid and a driver to take care of their every need.

As the head of the mafia, Enzo was constantly buried in work. Yet somehow, he always found time to care for Bianca and Luca.

When it came to me and my pregnancy, however, he remained utterly indifferent.

A wave of regret consumed me. Had I left him earlier, perhaps my baby would still be here.

It was clear now that our marriage had run its course.