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I had just found out I was pregnant with twins. Then a message from my husband, Dante Moretti, landed in my inbox. It was from his advisory, and attached was a marriage dissolution agreement. The offer: fifty million dollars. In exchange, I would surrender my status in the Moretti family, my signet ring, and the protection that came with them. It would all be terminated the moment I signed. I laughed. No one in their right mind would turn down terms like that. I immediately instructed my family’s adviser to send a reply: “Accepted.” Then I vanished from his territory, taking the money and the two children growing inside me. Later, the story would spread from Las Vegas to Sicily, whispered by everyone who did business with the Moretti family. The young don who never lost a bet had finally, catastrophically, miscalculated. He was turning the world upside down, searching for the wife he’d paid fifty million dollars to discard. And I would never look back. ... The ultrasound probe slid across my lower belly, its cold gel making my whole body tense. I stared at the screen, hardly daring to breathe. This private clinic had a long history of serving the Families. The doctor knew the code of silence; she would never reveal a patient’s name. Her expression was neutral at first, but then it slowly began to shift. She checked the image again before her eyes lifted to meet mine. “Elena, there are two gestational sacs here.” I shot upright. “Is something wrong with the babies?” “No.” She shook her head. “Both have clear heartbeats. It appears to be twins.” I froze. Twins. I dug my nails into my thigh, the sharp sting grounding me in reality. When I walked out of the clinic, the Nevada sun was so bright it was a physical pain to keep my eyes open. I lowered my gaze to the ultrasound printout in my hand. It felt heavier than any marriage contract. My name is Elena Costa. My family, the Costas, hold the docks of New England. The Morettis, my husband’s family,
