Sienna's Perspective
The harsh fluorescent lights of the underground mob clinic burned my eyes.
I lay on a stiff gurney, intense pain radiating from my cramping abdomen.
The lead surgeon rushed in, firing off orders, preparing for a transfusion of a rare blood type.
He ran towards the medical supply vault.
"The vault is empty," the terrified nurse whispered, her hands shaking violently.
"How is that possible?" the doctor asked, stunned.
"Hours ago, when Lucia was brought in with severe bleeding, he ordered all emergency supplies and the top surgical team moved to the VIP ward."
The surgeon returned to my room, pale and defeated.
He told me he'd tried pleading with them to return the supplies to the legal wife.
He failed.
Because Dante had explicitly ordered that Lucia's survival was the absolute priority.
The last shred of warmth left my body.
I stared at the white ceiling as the anesthesia pulled me under.
I woke to silence.
The doctor stood at the foot of my bed, his bowed head confirming my devastating loss.
I sat up, my eyes hollow.
My baby was gone.
Because of Dante.
My phone vibrated violently on the metal bedside table.
"Sienna! Your personal OB-GYN just called me!" Dante's voice boomed from the speaker, thick with excitement. "She got your routine check-up report from yesterday! You're pregnant! This is incredible! I'm going to build a business empire for our child."
I touched my horribly flat stomach.
A lifeless smile stretched across my pale face.
He'd signed his own child's death warrant without even knowing it.
"Oh, really? Are you... happy?"
I didn't wait for Dante's answer. I hung up.
My trembling fingers steadied as I dialed my former academic mentor, my contact in a highly classified intelligence organization.
"Please arrange extraction. I need to leave."
I pulled the IV from my bruised arm, letting the fluid drip onto the floor.
I knew I'd never make it out of this heavily guarded mob clinic alone in my current state, so I sent the distress signal.
Minutes later, an undercover agent disguised as a nurse slipped into my room.
She injected me with a potent dose of adrenaline and painkillers.
She helped me into a wheelchair and guided me through layers of security.
I passed the VIP ward.
Through the observation window, I saw my husband gently feeding Lucia a bowl of hot broth, carefully blowing on the spoon.
Memories flashed vividly, Dante doing the same for me, years ago.
Back then, he'd been just as tender, just as patient.
Now, he gave that tenderness and patience to another woman.
I wiped my eyes fiercely.
In that corridor, every shred of my vulnerability died.
Through the underground loading dock, I was smuggled out and safely delivered back to our marital penthouse. There, I locked myself in the dark living room until Dante finally came home that night.
The moment he walked in, he swept me into his strong arms,滔滔不绝地谈论着他计划建造的坚固防弹育婴室的细节.
He knelt down, pressing his ear to my empty stomach, playing the perfect husband.
I looked at him with empty eyes, told him I was just exhausted, and walked upstairs to the master bedroom without looking back.
Dante stayed where he was, seeming confused by my冷淡反应.
He had no idea our child was already gone forever.
A sudden thunderstorm battered the city, thunder rattling the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dante grabbed his custom coat after a phone call.
He told me a sudden crisis demanded his immediate attention.
He rushed out into the pouring rain, leaving his wife alone to comfort a mistress terrified of thunder.
