The first was to the hospital. "I need to schedule a procedure. As soon as possible."
The second was to my mother. "Mamma, Tomasso cheated on me. I'm filing for divorce and coming to you. Papà has been wanting to hand the Family over to me, right? I'll be there soon."
Her voice didn't waver. Not a tremor. Not a breath out of place. Isabella Valente had survived three decades as a Don's wife, and she received the news of her daughter's betrayal the way she received all threats: with absolute stillness before the storm.
"I told you from the start. You two come from different worlds. The Rossettis were never our equals. Marrying him was never going to end well. Come home to Monaco. As for the baby, if you want to keep it, keep it. The Valente family could use an heir."
I hung up and tore the check in my hands clean in half.
Fifty billion dollars. My father had wired it to me through three shell companies and a bank in Zurich. It was supposed to fund Tomasso's expansion into the shipping corridors along the northern coast, the deal that would have made the Rossetti syndicate untouchable.
He would never see a cent of it now.
I dug out our marriage certificate, the document that had bound the Valente name to the Rossetti bloodline, and was about to call the family's consigliere when my phone buzzed twice. A message appeared in the group chat Tomasso's inner circle had created to welcome me years ago, back when they still treated me like the Don's wife.
Congrats, sis! The big day's finally here!
Congrats, congrats! It's been a long road! We're heading to the hospital right now to celebrate with you and Tomasso.
I frowned, about to ask if they'd sent this to the wrong person, when a third message appeared.
You idiot, wrong group! This is the FIRST wife's group. The little missus is in the other one! Delete it, quick!
All three messages vanished in seconds.
My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles went white.
A dull ache spread through my chest. Then a sharper one twisted low in my belly.
It had never occurred to me that there was another group. A second one. One I wasn't in. A parallel world running beneath the surface of my marriage, hidden the way this life hides everything, behind closed doors and careful silence.