The Two Hour Betrayal

My name is Cassia Rhodes, and I was the shield hand-picked by New York's Mafia Don, Julian Bellini, for the woman he loved.

In the third year of our marriage, I was targeted by a rival family for the eighth time. Julian arrived with his soldati, but the negotiations had lasted less than five minutes before the call came from her.

"Julian, there's a suspicious black car outside my house... I'm terrified. Can you come? Please, I need you here."

...

Just as Julian gave the order to retreat without a moment's hesitation, a bullet tore through my shoulder, and blood bloomed across the fabric of my dress. Just like the seven times before, his soldati cleaned up the scene and sent me to the family’s private hospital.

In the car, I overheard one of them wonder aloud if I’d live long enough to see the Don’s precious girl finally stand on her own. Their laughter echoed around me. I was the only one crying.

My mission to save the Don had failed. The system was about to erase me.

Julian, I don’t think I’m going to make it.

————————

1

The doctor’s sigh was low beside me. "Donna Bellini, the damage from your last miscarriage was severe. Combined with this new injury… I'm afraid conceiving in the future will be nearly impossible."

I stared at the ceiling, my voice a hollow echo. "I see. It doesn't matter."

After the doctor left, the system sighed in my head. "Mission failure. Initiating erasure protocol. Do you wish to restart the mission—to continue trying to save him?"

I shook my head. "Erase me."

"Understood. Erasure protocol initiated. You have 72 hours remaining."

...

I closed my eyes. The silence was deafening. A strange impulse made me open the gossip column on my phone.

The headline of the day was about Julian attending a Manhattan charity gala last night with a mysterious blonde companion, the two of them looking intimate. In the photo, he was gently fastening a diamond necklace around her neck, his expression focused and deeply affectionate. The girl wore a champagne-colored silk evening gown, her hair styled in an elegant chignon, and she was smiling sweetly at him.

"This dress? Oh, my boyfriend picked it out for me. Last night's gala was so formal, I was so nervous my hands were shaking." She shyly glanced at someone off-camera. "Thank goodness he was with me..."

A man's low, gentle voice cut in. "You were perfect. You had nothing to be nervous about."

The comment section exploded.

'Stella is finally public with her mystery boyfriend! Please share more sweet moments!'

"It might be a little difficult. My boyfriend's work is... rather special, so he can't show his face."

As she spoke, the camera panned over her wrist, revealing a delicate, star-shaped diamond bracelet. "It's okay, as long as you're happy."

Her cheeks grew redder. She giggled, then was suddenly pulled out of frame. The sound of a kiss, followed by breathless laughter, drifted from off-camera.

The comments scrolled faster and faster, but one caught my eye—'I swear I just heard Julian Bellini's voice.'

The man's voice spoke again, much colder this time. "I am not."

The video cut off abruptly. I put my phone down and drifted back into a groggy sleep.

In my dream, I was organizing the closet one day and accidentally brushed some loose threads onto his suit. I apologized immediately, but he flew into a rage, yelling that I was forbidden from touching his things. He threw the suit away like it was garbage, and from that day on, his clothes vanished from our home.

At the end of the dream, all I could see was Julian's back—just as I had countless times over the past three years, when he would rush off to find Stella while I was left in agony.

When I woke up again, still half-asleep, the first thing I saw was a star-shaped diamond sparkling faintly in the light. My gaze traveled upward. Stella, now dressed in a simple beige cardigan and white trousers, was elegantly swirling a wine glass, tasting the deep red liquid inside.

The family consigliere wore an apologetic expression. "My deepest apologies, Donna Bellini. This was the last bottle of its vintage in the cellar. It seems Miss Vaughn has taken a liking to it."

"Oh, my goodness, I didn't realize this was for you, Cassia. I'm so sorry." Stella’s eyes widened, her lashes trembling as her eyes misted over—as if she'd only just now realized she was drinking a wine meant to aid a patient's recovery.