I raised a hand to stop her. "Forget it. That would mean war, and he isn't worth it. What I want is power. And he's the one who broke our vows."
She stared at me for a long moment, then pulled me into a hug. "Aoife, you don't have to hold it in. If you want to cry, just cry. I'm here for you."
But the tears wouldn't come. My chest ached, a hollow space where something vital had been ripped out. When the pain is that deep, you don't cry—you just feel the wound scabbing over, hardening, becoming your armor.
"Eithne, I want a divorce. And I'm going to make him pay."
"No problem. I'll handle it. I'll make the Gallo family bleed."
An hour later, I arrived at my father's estate, resolute.
When I told them about Lorenzo and his child, the face of my father, the Don of the O'Connell family, turned to thunder.
"Aoife, do whatever you want. If Lorenzo has a death wish, I can grant it," he said, his voice firm.
"As for… the child, that's your decision," my mother added softly, her eyes full of heartache.
I placed a hand on my stomach. A life had begun to grow here, but it had come at the wrong time and chosen the wrong father.
If Lorenzo hadn't hidden his lies, we might be celebrating this moment right now, and the entire city of Chicago would be buzzing with the news of the alliance's heir.
But my mind was made up. The O'Connell family does not tolerate betrayal.
My family respected my decision. They would let me handle the divorce myself but made it clear: if the Gallo family dared to cause any trouble, the Soldati were on standby, ready for war.
After leaving the estate, I headed to a private clinic for a pre-op checkup. But there were a few things I had to handle first.
In the waiting area, I saw Isabella leading Bianca into a VIP room. My stomach churned, and before I could think twice, I followed them.
"Bianca, I've told you, Lorenzo cares about you. Stop overthinking things," Isabella's voice drifted from inside the room. "He's keeping quiet for now to keep Aoife calm. We still have business with the O'Connells; we need that alliance."
Her words made me sick. I turned and walked away.
At the end of the hallway, I ran straight into Lorenzo.
The moment he saw me, he froze, panic flashing across his face. "Aoife? What are you doing here? Are you not feeling well?"
He tried to feign concern, shifting from panic to false solicitude in a split second.
I said nothing, merely glancing at the pregnancy report in his hand. Lorenzo's eyes darted to the paper, realizing how it must look. "This is for the wife of one of my Soldati," he blurted out, the lie coming easily. "She had a fall and almost miscarried. You know, as an Underboss, I have to earn my men's loyalty, so I brought her for a checkup."
His voice softened as he studied me. "And you?" he asked cautiously. "Why are you here?"