Chapter 2After I Refused the Ninth IVF Attempt, the Don Was Consumed by Regret

Three in the morning. Livia texted me.

【Donna, sorry to be tying up the Don's time in the middle of the night again. Hope you don't mind?】

Below that, a photo of Cassiano in the kitchen, cooking her pasta.

Six years of marriage. Cassiano was buried in family business every night—underground casinos, the docks—he practically never touched a stove.

I brought it up once. He told me his hands were made for a gun, not a spatula.

And now here he was, cooking dinner for another woman with his own two hands.

I stared at the photo. Three seconds.

Then I burned the letter I'd written him.

First thing the next morning, I booked a therapist and called a divorce lawyer.

I dragged all eight rounds of medical files out from the back of the cabinet. The cardboard box could barely hold them.

Stim protocols, anesthesia consent forms, post-op observation charts. Every single one had Cassiano Vireli's name on it. And every single one had a blank space where the family member's signature should have been.

Cassiano walked in, saw the box in the living room, and frowned.

"You'll need those for follow-ups. Don't move them around."

I looked down at the files.

"There won't be any follow-ups."

He didn't catch it. He bent down and grabbed one at random—the observation log from my fifth retrieval. A nurse had scrawled in red pen: Significant abdominal pain, family accompaniment recommended.

That night, I'd stayed at the hospital until three in the morning. Cassiano had been at the safehouse, helping Livia close out a money-laundering ledger.

He set the file down.

"Are you still holding the last few times against me?"

I didn't answer.

That afternoon, we drove to my pre-op appointment. I opened the passenger door and found a bottle of stomach medication sitting on the seat.

A sticky note on it read: Don't drink coffee on an empty stomach.

Cassiano followed my eyes. "Livia's stomach acts up. She left it in the car a while back."

I put the bottle back down.

"Since when does the Don personally stock meds for one of his people?"

"It's just backup medication." His face cooled noticeably. "She's the one handling every last detail for you. And you can't even let something this small slide?"

"I never asked her for help."

Cassiano studied me for a moment. "Whatever."

He was just about to start the car when Livia called again.

Cassiano hit speaker. Her voice came through breathless. "Don, the Corsinis just moved the meeting up. I'm kind of freaking out—can you come?"

Cassiano looked at me.

"It's just bloodwork and an ultrasound. Head in on your own. I'll have the driver take you."

I stared at the door he'd already opened.

"So anything that happens to her comes before me? Cassiano, I'm your wife."

"Don't mix the two up." His brow tightened. "You need to stay relaxed right now. Don't let this get in the way of the treatment."

"If you walk out that door, we're getting divorced."

I watched him. I thought I'd be furious. Instead, I felt calmer than I had in years.

"You're bringing up divorce over something this small?"

His face went cold. He looked at me like I was a problem he needed to deal with later.

"Enough. I don't have time for this right now. Have someone call me when it's over."

He swung the wheel around.

Before he pulled off, I saw him bend over the phone, texting Livia back. Fully focused.

I only glanced once. Then I turned and walked into the fertility center alone.

The nurse recognized me. "Your husband's not here again? You can't go home alone after formal retrieval. Don't try to tough it out this time."

I turned the ticket over in my fingers. "There won't be a formal retrieval."

I handed the confirmation forms to the desk, then canceled the family authorization in the hospital system.

From this moment on, Cassiano Vireli had no right to ask about a single thing regarding my treatment.

Then I opened my phone, ran through the document checklist my divorce lawyer had sent, and booked a one-way ticket out of this city.