Burning It All Down

I was probably the first person who ever dared to point a gun at the Capo.

The Soldato stationed around the villa tensed at the sight, their hands tightening around their weapons. One wrong move, and I'd be dead before I even had the chance to pull the trigger.

Even the Consigliere, usually composed, exclaimed, "Mrs. Church!"

But Derek didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He continued looking at me tenderly.

It was no wonder that he was the Capo of the mafia.

"Why, you shameless woman—"

Jimmy, hovering at the edge, made a move to intervene. The sound of his voice alone was enough to fill me with revulsion.

Those words he uttered—"She still has no idea I was the one who personally selected the men who had their way with her that night at the bar"—replayed in my head over and over like a curse.

I pointed the gun at Jimmy instead, then pulled the trigger without a moment of hesitation before anyone else could react.

Unfortunately, I had never practiced shooting before. The bullet missed his head, grazing his cheek instead, before shattering a bottle of red wine behind him.

Jimmy's eyes widened in stark terror, his face draining of all color.

Derek's hand closed over mine, effortlessly prying the gun away.

"Darling, this room is for our baby. A bloody mess would be rather inconvenient, wouldn't it?" Though his words were gentle, his eyes remained devoid of any genuine concern.

Then, his gaze flickered to the ice cream on the counter. His brows drew together as he reached out, stroking my belly with gentle fingers.

"Darling, shouldn't you be glad the IVF procedure was successful? Why are you so furious?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Then, coldly, I said, "You said I could eliminate someone if I was upset. Or is the Capo going back on his word?"

Derek was caught off guard. After that, he ruffled my hair and teased, "Of course not. Not when you are Mrs. Church."

Upon saying that, he signaled to a maid nearby and instructed her to bring me a cup of hot tea. Just as she placed the cup of hot tea in my hands, he lifted his gun and pointed it between her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

Just like that, he blew the maid's brains out right in front of me. Her blood splattered across my face, dripping into the tea I held. The liquid turned red.

My stomach twisted violently. The ice cream from earlier churned inside me, and before I could stop it, I dropped to my knees and vomited.

Derek wiped his gun as if he hadn't just murdered someone in front of me. Then, he pulled me up from the floor and got someone else to bring me another cup of hot tea to cleanse my palate.

Even though I was shaking, I was too afraid to go against him. All I could do was drink the tea emotionlessly.

"Expectant mothers shouldn't be having ice cream. I am shocked to find food that could endanger my wife in our home.

"Anyone who endangers my wife's health endangers my son. That maid deserved to die," Derek warned, his gaze sweeping over the others in the villa, cold and unforgiving.

The body of the maid was left a grotesque tableau, a stark and deliberate reminder of the price of disobedience. He made no move to have it cleaned up.

"Darling, don't eat ice cream again. You've sacrificed too much for this pregnancy. You have to make sure that you give birth to a healthy baby, understand?"

I took a deep breath before I finally managed to force a smile. "I understand."