The Overlooked Wife

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I discovered I was two months pregnant.

I wanted to surprise Owen Reed with the news. However, on my way home with the gift-wrapped ultrasound report, I got caught in a street shootout.

A stray bullet tore into my abdomen. Right as I collapsed on the pavement, writhing in pain, Owen appeared out of nowhere. He had told me he was away on business and would not be home until evening, but here he was, frantically shoving through the crowd.

He ran right past me and toward a woman up ahead.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you." His voice was soft, gentler than I had ever heard it.

He swept her up in his arms and disappeared down the street, surrounded by bodyguards.

He never saw me. I was barely three feet away, bleeding out on the ground.

When I woke up in the hospital, my baby was gone. That was when I knew I was done with this marriage.

I was lifted onto a stretcher in a daze, the doctor's urgent shouts ringing in my ears. "Can we free up the ambulance? We have an injured pregnant woman here!"

A young nurse beside me muttered indignantly under her breath. "There are so many seriously injured patients, and that woman only has a minor scrape. But she just has to take the express ambulance. This is ridiculous!"

Someone tugged at her sleeve, filling her in on Dante Rossini's background.

"Watch what you say. He's the biggest mafia boss in Luncy, famous for how much he dotes on his wife. Now that his wife is injured, of course, he's worried. That's normal."

"Just look at how tender and protective he is with her. It's so enviable!"

The crushing pain and suffocating pressure made it hard to breathe. The nurse's words sent my heart plummeting.

The day he proposed, he set off fireworks across the entire city for a day and a night. He told me with such devotion in his eyes, "Giulia Romano, I want the whole world to know how much I love you!"

After we married, Dante kept his promise. He cherished me and adored me, making me the most envied woman in all of Luncy.

Yet now, I watched him give the tenderness that should belong only to me to another woman.

"What do other people have to do with me? I'm ordering you to come check on her right now. She says she doesn't feel well!"

"But this pregnant woman is in critical condition..."

The doctor tried to advocate for me, but the next second, Dante grabbed him by the collar. "Are you trying to tell me what to do? If you still want to work in Luncy, don't question my decisions!"

His tone was vicious. The doctor trembled all over, abandoning any thought of my safety as he followed Dante into the ambulance.

The young nurse beside me gripped my hand tightly, forcing herself to stay calm as she said, "Ma'am, hang in there. You'll be fine. The next ambulance will be here soon. Let me call your family first so that they can meet you at the hospital."

In the distance, a phone rang sharply from inside the ambulance. I forced my eyes open and looked in that direction.

Dante was bent over, his gaze fixed entirely on the woman lying on the stretcher. Though his back was to me, I could perfectly imagine his expression—anxious, heartbroken, adoring.

The phone rang several times. The nurse frantically pressed the keypad, muttering complaints.

"What's going on? It's even turned off now! Doesn't he know pregnant women require extra attention? How can he be unreachable at a time like this? This is terrible!"

Unreachable at a critical moment?

No. He was there. We passed each other. He just did not see me.

We were so close, yet somehow, he did not see me at all.

Suddenly, a rush of warmth flooded from below. A pool of bright red spread beneath me. The nurse's hand trembled. She glanced at me, then summoned her courage and ran toward the ambulance.

"Mr. Rossini, could you let your wife get out first? Her leg isn't seriously hurt, and right now, there's a pregnant woman hemorrhaging badly. We need to use the emergency equipment in the ambulance—"

Before the nurse could finish, a delicate voice sounded from inside the vehicle.

"Dante, my leg hurts so much. Will I ever be able to dance again?"

Dante's icy voice cut through the air with bone-chilling coldness. "My wife is a dancer. Her legs are more important than anyone here! I need to make sure she isn't left with a scar."

He paused, then emphasized again, "No one is more important than my wife!"

She was his wife? Then who was I?

I lay there bleeding on the pavement, watching the ambulance pull away. After everything I had just witnessed, I should finally give up, should I not?