Buried by the Mafia, Reborn Without Him

“Elena,” Donna Victoria began, her tone measured, almost conversational,

“Sophia’s pregnancy is a priority for the family. She hasn’t been sleeping well, so the private nurse was brought in to assess what would be best for her.”

She gave a faint, dismissive wave.

“According to her, the room Sophia’s staying in isn’t suitable. The room isn’t suitable for a woman carrying a Vitale heir.”

A brief pause.

“Your suite, however, does.”

Her eyes settled on me.

“You’re not expecting, so there’s no real need for you to stay there. Let Sophia move in for now. Once the baby’s born, we can revisit it.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

Marco stepped forward immediately.

“Ma’am, that suite has always belonged to the lady of the house. If it’s given up, people will talk. It won’t reflect well on her.”

Donna Victoria’s expression hardened.

“She’s been here long enough without producing anything,” she said sharply.

“The fact that I haven’t had Enzo cut her loose is already more than generous.”

“Now Sophia is carrying the heir, and you’re making an issue out of a room?”

Sophia’s eyes filled with tears right on cue. She rose slowly, voice soft and restrained.

“It’s alright,” she said gently.

“I can stay anywhere. I’ll manage.”

She lowered her gaze, almost fragile.

“Elena is the lady of the house. I’m just… someone who was left behind.”

A faint breath.

“I don’t want to take anything from her. I only want to give Enzo a healthy child.”

She sat back down, pale and composed, every detail carefully controlled.

Enzo frowned slightly as he looked at me.

“It’s just a room,” he said.

“Let Sophia have it. She’s pregnant. She’s bound to be more sensitive.”

His tone softened, but only slightly.

“Once the baby’s born, it’ll be yours again.”

He knew exactly what he was asking.

For the lady of the house to give up that suite—

among families like ours—

it wasn’t a small concession.

It was a statement.

One that would travel far beyond these walls.

He knew.

And he still chose this.

Because what she carried mattered more.

His child.

“Elena,” he added, impatience slipping through,

“have your things moved out soon. The earlier she settles in, the better.”

I took a slow breath and stood.

“I can move out today,” I said evenly.

“There’s no need to delay.”

He paused, caught off guard.

“That’s not necessary—”

Sophia cut in smoothly.

“Thank you, Elena,” she said with a soft smile.

“Enzo, I feel like having some olives. Would you get them for me?”

His attention shifted instantly.

“Of course,” he said.

“I’ll have some brought in.”

He sat down beside her, one hand resting over her stomach as he fed her.

As if I were no longer part of the room.

Back in the suite, I gave my instructions.

“Pack only what I brought with me,” I said.

“Everything else stays.”

Marco hesitated.

“If you move to another room, it won’t be the same. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

My throat tightened slightly.

“Not for long,” I said quietly.

Not much longer.

That evening, Enzo came by.

He didn’t step inside.

Just stood at the door.

“Elena,” he said,

“just bear with it this once.”

I cut him off.

“We should separate.”

He frowned, irritation surfacing.

“You’re walking away over a room?” he said.

“You’re not a child. You should understand what matters.”

He exhaled, trying to steady himself.

“Once the baby’s born, things go back to how they were. I told you—she gets one child. That’s it.”

The way they were.

That was no longer possible.

After Sophia moved into the suite, she stopped pretending.

She carried herself like she already owned everything.

She made sure Enzo stayed with her.

She never allowed him to come see me alone.

The only time we crossed paths was in the mornings—brief, controlled, unavoidable.

And every time, she made sure the conversation revolved around the child.

Always the child.

Always the center.

On my birthday, Enzo finally came looking for me.

In the garden.

There was something uneasy in his expression.

“Elena,” he said,

“I know this hasn’t been easy.”

A pause.

“Let me make it up to you today.”

He tried to sound casual.

“I had the family yacht made ready. We can head out tonight and see the city from the water.”

Before I could answer, Sophia appeared.

Soft. Smiling. Perfect timing.

“Enzo,” she said, “I have something to show you.”

She took his hand and placed it gently against her stomach.

“Feel that.”

A moment passed—

then movement.

Enzo’s reaction was immediate.

His eyes lit up.

“He moved,” he said, almost disbelieving. “He actually moved.”

Sophia leaned into him.

“He’s been restless all day,” she said softly.

“Talk to him. The doctor said the baby recognizes the father’s voice.”

Enzo didn’t hesitate.

“Then I’ll make sure he knows exactly who I am.”

He guided her away, already focused on her.

I called out—

“Enzo.”

He turned back, as if remembering something too late.

“Elena… go ahead without me,” he said.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

My chest sank.

Behind him, Sophia’s smile lingered.

Quiet. Certain.

“Alright,” I said.

There wouldn’t be another time.

This was the last one.

I left with Marco and my team.

The driver took us to the dock.

Under watchful eyes, I stepped onto the yacht.

And we pulled away with the current.

Into the night.