I Signed the Termination and Took My Crown

My husband Dante, Don of the Moretti family, was killed in a gang crossfire. I was devastated, because the same day, I’d also found out that my IVF injection had worked. I was pregnant. The Moretti didn’t want me to spiral. So they called in Dante’s twin brother, Ash Moretti, to help around. I felt both guilty and grateful until I overheard them talking in the study. “It was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper it was you?” His father asked. Dante’s voice. “I only married her because you promised me the Don’s seat.” Then Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That alone should’ve been enough.” So. It wasn’t my husband who died. It was his brother. And my husband and his sister in law thought this was his clean exit. As he wished, I gave it to him. When the doctor told me the fetus had less than a ten percent chance of survival, I agreed to terminate. And along with reclaiming everything else I had once given the Moretti, I walked away from his life—for good. Chapter 1 Harper’s POV My husband, Dante Moretti, was killed at a routine drug meeting two months ago. Since then, the Moretti called in his twin brother, Ash, to take over—not just Dante’s responsibilities in the family business, but also the role of… accompanying me. I hated the idea of dragging innocent people into the fallout of my life. So today, I came by wanting to tell them I was ready to handle things on my own. Before I could knock on the door, I heard voices coming from the study. “Dante,” Nicholas asked, voice low, “it was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper that it was you? You’re twins, yes, but identical or not—they’ll figure it out.” Then came the voice I had believed belonged to Ash. Except it wasn’t. It was Dante. Alive. And speaking like this was all a minor inconvenience. Father, you know I never loved her. The only reason I marry her was because you promised me the seat of Don and the family business.” He exhaled, almost wistful. “Now that Ash is gone, this is finally my chance to be with Gianna. I have to take it.” Nicholas hesitated. “And Harper? She just got pregnant.” Her IVF worked,” Then came Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That’s more than enough.” If I hadn’t heard it myself, I would’ve thought it was a bad TV script. My husband, the infamous Don of the Moretti family—the man I’d loved for over half a decade—had faked his own death just so he could crawl back to his childhood sweetheart, now his sister in law. And more, everyone in this family had knew about this and decided to lie to me as well. I took a step back, unsteady. I was the woman who poured wealth into the Moretti and made this name louder than it used to be. And yet, to them, to Dante, I was nothing. Disposable. Replaceable. But what if she finds out?” Nicolas’s voice. “Smart? Finds out?” Gianna scoffed. “I still remember the day Dante walked in as ‘Ash.’ The look on her face—God, I’ll never forget it. She’s just a love sick fool. Lucky to have the Quinn as her name, and a big bank account that comes with it.” “We still have to be cautious though,” Dante said quickly. “I have to stay with her as Ash. That’s the plan.” Gianna’s tone snapped, “I don’t like you being that close to her.” “Babe… I have to. It’s the whole point of pretending to be Ash and coming back as him.” Dante’s voice softened, almost pleading. “I don’t care.” Her voice pitched higher. “I want you here, with me. What—are you worried she’ll stop giving the Moretti money? Please. She’s just a dumb bitch who couldn’t even tell her ‘husband’ was his twin brother. What is there to worry about?” She paused, “Wait—Dante, are you making excuses so you can actually go back to her side and spend more time with her?” “Of course not. Every second with her disgusted me,” Dante said without a hint of hesitation. My heart stopped for a beat. Really, Dante? Every second? “That’s right,” Gianna cooed. “You told me yourself—you only married her because she was rich and could secure you the Don’s seat.” Dante swore, “I only love you, Gianna. It’s always been you. Only you. No one else.” My stomach lurched. I clamped a hand over my mouth and bolted to the guest restroom. I threw up until my ribs ached. By the time I finished, my knees gave out, sliding me down to the cold floor. Sitting there, shaking, I tried to make sense of the last three months. Searching for signs. hints. Anything that could’ve warned me. I still remembered that day—coming home from the hospital with the pregnancy results in my hand. I’d been so happy. After ten failed IVF cycles, after crying and begging the doctor for one more chance even though my body was exhausted… it had finally worked. Then, the same day, the Moretti called to tell me that Dante had died on a mission. I fainted. When I woke up, I was already inside the old Moretti mansion. A man stood next to my bed—same sharp jawline, same dark eyes. The only difference was that tiny mole beneath his right eye. “Harper,” he said softly. “It’s me, Ash.” I believed him then. Because it never crossed my mind that the man I loved for more than ten years would rather die—pretend to die—than stay with me. … The truth was, I hadn’t loved Dante this deeply at first. Not even close. In fact, when I was younger and first heard that my father wanted me to marry him, I was furious. Dante Moretti? Arrogant, bossy, impossible? Absolutely not. After I rejected him, Dante didn’t push back on the marriage alliance though. He started showing up more. More calls. More visits. Asking me to dinner, etc. I turned him down almost every time. Then that accident happened… I was twenty then. I’d just finished my last class of the day and decided to ditch my guard and walk home instead of ride. It was a whim. A bad one. Some men claimed to be the rivals to the Quinn took me. Three days, I was locked away. They didn’t hurt me—because they knew better than hurting a Quinn. But they made sure I suffered. Just as I was desperate, Dante arrived. He came alone with just a pistol and a few bullets. But he took out every kidnapper and swept me off my feet. I honestly thought that after everything, he’d reconsider our arranged marriage. I’d been kidnapped. People whispered. They speculated. They judged. When I was ready to keep my heart a secret, Dante was… still being Dante. He kept showing up. Kept asking me out. Bringing me gifts. Eventually, I fell for it. I fell head over heels, completely, for Dante Moretti and I said yes to marrying him. Hearing just now how Dante said that he never loved me and the only reason he married me was for the Don’s seat? I realized I was just a fool. I fell for a man that only ever wanted my name, my money, my family’s legacy. My stomach twisted again. Bitter. Acidic. I pushed myself up from the cold tile floor, one shaky breath at a time, and pulled out my phone. Fine. If this was the life he wanted—if Dante Moretti wanted to become dead and wear his brother’s face—then there’s nothing for me to be sad about. I dialed the number. “Hey, it’s me. Delay this month’s investment. And I figured, now that Dante has died, maybe it’s time the Quinns take over.” Chapter 2 Harper’s POV When Dante returned as Ash, he generously offered to move me back into the old Moretti mansion so he could “take better care of me” as my brother-in-law. I couldn’t have been more grateful. He even put me in the room directly across the hall from his—where he and Gianna stayed. Except now, thinking back, Dante hadn’t taken care of me for a single day. The best he ever did was stop by once in a while to ask how my pregnancy checkup had gone. I used to think he was just busy—after all, Dante’s sudden “death” had left a mess for the family to clean up. Now everything was all crystal clear. Moving me in was never about caring for me. It was about controlling me—the widow with the money. And that whole performance of “taking care” of me? Just guilt-bait. See? Your husband’s brother is looking after you. Shouldn’t you be grateful? Shouldn’t you give us more money? To think I’d felt even a flicker of guilt—moved, for one stupid second—by all those lies. Rage surged through my chest like a second heartbeat, wild and unbearable, clawing to get out. Just wait, Dante. Just wait. The day I walk out of here, I’m taking every single thing I ever gave this family with me. … When I got back to my room, I sat down and tried to breathe. Leaving Dante and the Moretti—and taking my money with me—might’ve hurt them. It would’ve left a bruise, maybe even knocked the wind out of them for a while. But ever since Dante took the Don’s seat, the Moretti had grown larger, stronger. Even stripped of my resources, he’d recover and rebuild eventually. And the vengeful pulse in my chest told me bruising him wasn’t enough. I didn’t want Dante and the Moretti inconvenienced. I wanted them ruined. I wanted this family to fall—brick by brick, legacy by legacy—until Dante and Gianna had nowhere left to stand but at my feet, begging. Starting with… Dante walked back into this house as “Ash.” Everyone already believed Ash was the gentle one, the soft-spoken brother who could never lead a mafia family. I could use that. I’d gather support quietly, collect evidence, then force a family vote and strip “Ash Moretti” of any possibility of inheriting the Don. Even better, I could take the seat myself. I was, after all, legally married to Dante Moretti. Legally entitled to inherit everything he “left behind” after his so-called death. And with my father backing me—the first non-Moretti Don in Moretti history? Oh, Dante would look like absolute shit. And Gianna? I could already picture her face. I was still mapping this plan out in my mind when my phone buzzed. Dr. Zane. My heart skipped. I answered fast. “Hey, Dr. Zane. Is something wrong?” Not the baby. My baby… “Mrs. Moretti…” she hesitated. She never hesitated. A chill climbed down my spine. "We ran the most recent tests. And… the fetus has stopped growing.” Her voice went quiet. “Which means—” Which means I failed again.” My hand dropped instinctively to my belly. Did you hear him, too? My baby, did you hear what your father said—and decide not to come after all? The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over. "I’m so sorry, Mrs. Moretti,” Dr. Zane said gently. “We suggest you come in today and run a few test.” She’d been with me through it all. Every round of IVF. Every injection. Every heartbreak. She knew how stubborn I was. That’s probably why she was speaking so carefully, afraid to break whatever pieces of me were still intact. Zane added quietly, “I know what happened with Mr. Moretti. We still have a few of his samples stored here. If, in the future, you’d ever like to try again…” “No,” I said softly, cutting her off. “I’ll come in tonight. And please—destroy whatever Moretti samples you have left. I won’t be needing them.” The pain was still there. Sharp. Heavy. But I knew what I had to do. I placed a hand over my belly and whispered, “Maybe it’s for the best, little one. You deserve better than a man like that for a father. And as for me… I’m sorry. I should’ve protected you better.” I wiped my face, steeled my spine. Then came Dante’s voice from the hall. “Harper? Come downstairs. It’s dinner time.” It would be the first time I saw them—her and him—since everything came crashing down. I turned to the mirror. Stared at the reflection of the woman they thought they could break. “You can do this, Harper,” I whispered. “Remember who you are.” I pulled on a smile and headed downstairs. … Dante sat with Gianna tucked neatly at his side. Nicholas and Viola—his parents—occupied the opposite end of the table. And they’d left me the head seat. “Come, Harper. Sit,” Dante said, all warm concern, pulling my chair out like the perfect, considerate Ash. Goosebumps prickled up my arms. “Thanks,” I replied evenly, careful to let none of the discomfort reach my face. "Harper, are you feeling unwell?” Viola asked, her voice sugar-sweet. “You don’t look like yourself.” I smiled, lifting my water glass. “Nothing,” I said, taking a sip. Across from me, Gianna was busy feeding Dante a piece of fruit from her bowl, then lifting a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. “Isn’t the fruit I feed you the sweetest in the world?” she cooed. Dante leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You are the sweetest, babe.” As if cue me to look at them, Gianna turned and said, “Oops, we forgot that we are not along right now.” Dante caught my gaze from the corner of his eyes, “Harper, I heard you have a pregnancy checkup this evening. Do you want me to go with you?” “Babe,” Gianna cut in smoothly, “did you forget you already promised me tonight? I’ve been waiting all week.” She pouted, turning her face away like the wounded party. Dante immediately reached for her hand, soothing her, then looked back at me. “My fault. I already made plans with my wife…” Before he could stack on more excuses, I cut him off. “That’s alright. I can go myself. It’s not my first time.” Gianna suddenly turned toward me. “You won’t hold it against us, right, Harper? You’re not going to run crying to your daddy about being mistreated here?” She said it with a laugh—but the malice underneath was sharp enough to cut. “Of course,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Dante and his father, Nicolas, exchanged a glance before Dante spoke again. “Harper, I was wondering when’s your family’s next investment installment coming? After what happened to Dante, I thought about moving the business somewhere else, somewhere safer. So I have been looking into buying a casino.” I said smoothly. “I just checked in with my father today. There’s going to be a delay in this month’s investment. Maybe I could have a tour of the casino first?” Dante’s expression brightened instantly. “Would tomorrow work?” He didn’t even hesitate—still so ready to use my love for “Dante,” even now. “Alright,” I said with a small smile. Just how good was this casino that he couldn’t wait a while longer? He was practically tripping over himself to show me—risking raising my suspicion in the process. “Babe,” Gianna cooed, attracting Dante’s attention back. “My hand hurt, can you cut my steak for me?” Dante blinked. Then—without a moment’s hesitation—he set down his glass, poured her wine, and began cutting her steak into neat, delicate pieces. Gianna flashed a smile at me—too sweet, too bright—and I caught the taunt beneath it. She was showing off. Showing me just how much Dante cared about her. And even knowing Gianna was parading this side of him in front of me on purpose, it still landed like a slap to the face. In all the years we were together, Dante never cut my food. Never hovered. Never looked at me the way he did her. I used to think it was just who he was. Tough. Rough around the edges. The kind of man who showed his care with silence, not softness. But watching him now? It wasn’t that Dante didn’t know how to care for someone. He just never wanted to care for me. It was one thing to overhear it through a wall—another to watch that painful truth unfold right in front of me. The nausea came fast, hot and violent. I turned away, hand clamped over my mouth, gagging quietly at the table. Watching the two of them had made my stomach turn. … I went to the clinic that night for the check‑up. Dr. Zane told me it was better to wait for a few more days before scheduling the surgery. I had just stepped out of her office when I saw someone familiar in the hallway. Dante. A strange mix of hope and disbelief flickered through me. Had he actually come after all? But before I could take a single step toward him, Gianna appeared from another hallway—and Dante rushed straight to her. “How was it?” Gianna’s cheeks went pink. “The doctor said I wasn’t pregnant yet. Maybe I just ate something bad.” Of course Dante didn’t come for me. What was I even thinking? Gianna’s eyes landed on me, but she didn’t call my name right away. Instead, she leaned in and kissed Dante. A long, deliberate kiss. Only after pulling away—smiling like the cat who got the cream—did she finally speak. “Oh! Harper, I didn’t see you there,” she said, all faux surprise. “You finished the checkup already?” She’d seen me. And she knew I’d seen her too. Dante followed her gaze. The moment his eyes landed on me, he hesitated. “I was going to call you after Gianna finished her appointment—see if you were done too. Maybe you could ride home with us?” “I…” Before I could even finish, Gianna tugged lightly on his sleeve and interrupted. “Babe.” He glanced at her, then back at me. “Right, I forgot, Gianna and I aren’t heading straight home. Maybe call yourself a cab?” I looked at Gianna, smug and sheltered behind him, then back at Dante. “Mm.” I watched the two of them disappear down the hall—Gianna leaning in to whisper something against Dante’s ear, both of them laughing the whole way. Chapter 4 Harper’s POV Since the surgery wasn’t happening anytime soon, it was time for the casino tour—scouting the location, taking in the layout. “Babe, I want to come too. I’m so bored at home,” Gianna pouted, clinging onto Dante’s arm. If there was one thing Dante hated the most, it was distractions during serious work. I figured Gianna might finally get her first real taste of rejection today. But instead, he smiled. “Of course. Mi amor.” Right. I forgot. Gianna was the mighty Dante’s exception. So at the end, the three of us—plus two guards—all piled into the black SUV. Gianna slid into the passenger seat without hesitation. I was wedged into the back, crushed between two guards built like refrigerators. The drive was mercifully short. Twenty minutes, tops. The second I stepped out, I drew in a breath. "This way,” Dante said, already tugging Gianna along by the hand. There weren’t many people inside today. But judging from the layout, the place had potential. Five stories tall, with the kind of grandeur you only see in overly ambitious blueprints. At full capacity, it could hold ten thousand people—easily. “I thought this floor could be my office,” Dante said suddenly, glancing at me. “Close to the action downstairs, but still near the meeting rooms.” I didn’t respond. “And I can even add a nursery next to this office,” Dante added, his gaze lingering on me. “After you give birth, I can help with the baby here. Just like I promised.” Too bad there won’t be a baby anymore. And worse—this office won’t be yours either, Dante. “This floor does make a good office,” I said, circling the space. Suddenly, two gunshots cracked near the elevator—followed by a wave of screams and frantic shouting. Out of instinct, my eyes searched for the only familiar person in the chaos—Dante. And for a moment, he was looking at me too. Our gazes locked. “I—” Next second, Dante’s attention snapped back to Gianna. “Harper, find somewhere safe. I’ll come back for you once I get Gianna out.” Two seconds later, the two of them vanished into the crowd. And suddenly, I was alone—stranded on this unfamiliar floor with no one beside me. “Mrs. Moretti, this way!” A guard came up from the fire exit and barked. I shielded my stomach instinctively as I moved. I was finally approaching the main gate after five minutes. From a distance, I saw Gianna, curled into Dante’s arms, sobbing like a frightened child. “I’m so scared.” Dante was murmuring to her gently, soothing her. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “We are safe, see? We are safe now.” I watched him promise her the world with that low, comforting voice I hadn’t heard in ages—the same voice that once asked if I was alright, back when I’d been kidnapped and he came to save me. “Mr. Moretti,” the guard called, breaking the moment. Dante turned—and saw me. His gaze flicked to mine. “Sorry, my wife Gianna is my priority… I have to get her out first before I protect anyone else.” Wife. If Gianna was truly your wife… then who was I to you? Just anyone else, huh? A memory hit me then—one I hadn’t thought about in years. When Dante and I had just gotten married, he took me along to one of his negotiation meetings. It went south fast. The other mafia leader pulled a gun and threatened the entire room. I’d seen plenty of chaotic scenes, but nothing this raw. So I panicked. It was the first time Dante ever snapped at me. “Don’t fucking show your weakness in front of others.” Watching him with Gianna today—seeing how gently he soothed her, how quickly he lowered his rules whenever she so much as furrowed a brow, how he dropped everything the second she wavered—made it all suddenly, painfully clear. Dante never loved me the way he said he did. Maybe he cared. A little. Though I doubt it was ever about me. More likely my family name and my money, or just the comfort of routine. And this constant stream of excuses and hollow promises about “taking care of me”… just how stupid did they really think I was? Chapter 5 Harper’s POV To my surprise, the casino was... actually impressive. Just like they said it would be. Which meant it was time to move to the next step in my plan, to find the money I had once invested into the Moretti and his business. I wanted to know exactly how they’d been using the Quinn money over the years. Where it went. What it built. Who it benefited. And then something unexpected surfaced. A set of photographs. Tucked inside the Moretti family safe. Photos of me. From the night I was kidnapped all those years ago. When my investigator dug deeper, he looked… hesitant. “Miss Quinn,” he said carefully, “it appears the Moretti had ties to your kidnappers.” My stomach dropped. “What kind of ties?” I asked, already feeling sick. “From what we uncovered, Dante Moretti and his father paid the men who kidnapped you. Helped arrange the abduction. The photos were their proof of execution.” I stared at him. “You’re saying… they planned it?” He nodded grimly. “The kidnappers were instructed to send your location to Dante. Wait for his signal. Let him play the hero. The entire thing was staged. A show. A setup to make Dante look like your savior.” My hands clenched into fists. Even the one memory I thought was real—the one moment when I thought Dante had truly cared for me, had risked his life for me— Even that was a lie. A performance. A whole damn play written and directed by Dante Moretti himself. After the shock and the disgust settled, all that remained was sheer disbelief. I could’ve died during that kidnapping. If even one of those men had stepped out of line—or turned on Dante—I could’ve been killed. Or worse, humiliated beyond repair. And Dante? Obviously, he didn’t care. I had overestimated what he felt for me. He didn’t care about me—not even a little. To him, I’d always been a tool. Nothing more. … After the investigator told me there were no traces of the Moretti finances online, I figured they were keeping their ledger hidden inside this house. Lucky for me, they saw me as harmless. A grieving widow too shattered to pose any threat. I could move through the house almost freely. It didn’t take long before I found their ledger—tucked inside a safe beneath the carpet in the living room. The password? Moretti. Flipping through the pages, the truth hit hard and fast. The money Dante once claimed he’d used to expand a drug factory was just a lie. He funneled it into weaponry—illegal, high-grade kind. And worse—a week after Dante faked his death, those weapons disappeared. Probably being stolen by one of Moretti’s rivalry. I sucked in a long breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. The ledger was the perfect evidence to push Dante out now. As Ash Moretti, Dante’s grieving brother, had stepped up after Dante’s “death” and failed—spectacularly—on his very first assignment. That failure alone was enough to prove he wasn’t fit to inherit the Don seat and run the Moretti empire. The best part? Dante had no way to defend himself. Because to the world, he was already dead. All that remained was Ash—Dante’s gentle, unambitious brother. And ‘the unambitious twin’ was nowhere near qualified to be a Don. … I didn’t tell Father the truth—only that Ash inheriting the Don’s seat without a vote felt wrong. “What are you planning, daughter?” Father asked. He always saw straight through me. “I’m going to fight for the Don’s seat,” I said evenly. “But I’ll need your help, Papa.” “Anything you need, baby.” After a long, quiet discussion with him, I called for a meeting at the Moretti mansion. The key Moretti family members were all here. “My father and I have evaluated the casino project,” I began with a smile, laying a few documents neatly on the table. “We agree it’s a promising asset and a strong opportunity.” Dante’s face lit up immediately. “But,” I said, still smiling, “there’s one condition.” Dante echoed, already tense. “One condition?” "Yes,” I said lightly. “As you all know, Dante Moretti, my husband, has passed. As his wife, the Donna of the Moretti—I believe it’s only fair that we vote before handing the Don’s seat to Ash this quickly. That’s the purpose of this meeting.” “A vote?” Dante echoed. I kept my voice calm, almost sweet. “Yes. Ash, to be fair, you’ve never been trained to lead a mafia family. And while sorting through my husband’s things, I found this…” I angled my head slightly. “A report on a stolen shipment. I’ve heard that after you returned, you spent over a billion acquiring armory—and it was stolen under your watch, Ash?” Color drained from his face. “That shipment was—” “Ambushed,” I finished for him. “By a rival gang. A few of them, in fact.” I sat up straighter. “Since Dante’s death, the balance of power has shifted. Our enemies are watching—waiting—for the moment we collapse. And with Ash at the helm, they’re already making moves.” I turned toward the others. “We all know Ash was never raised to lead. He dropped out of his training the moment Mr. Moretti named Dante as the next Don. So I believe a vote is necessary—if we all want to have a rightful next Don to lead this family after Dante.” Dante clenched his teeth. “Harper, what’s going on?” I kept my tone even. “In order to protect the Moretti name and my husband’s legacy as Don, I hereby declare the vote to whether Ash take over the Don’s seat officially open. Every vote counts.” Dante turned, already moving toward the door, gesturing for me to follow. “Harper, a word? In private?” I rose from my seat and followed Dante out. I didn’t make it far. Barely turned the corner before the smell hit me—sharp, chemical, nauseating. Then everything went black. … When I came to, it was to the sound of voices. “What the hell, Gianna? You drugged her? I thought we were just trying to persuade her to close the vote,” Dante snapped. “Oh, calm down. It’s just diethyl ether,” Gianna replied, casually. “She’ll wake up any minute now.” My fingers twitched. Consciousness was returning. Good. “But let’s be honest, I’m done playing with that dumb bitch. Let’s just kill her and get it over with,” Gianna snapped, “And better, after kill her, we claim that we get her vote. If the former Donna vote for you to continue as the Don, who else will reject?” Dante was pacing, breath coming hard. “Absolutely not! She’s a Quinn. We can’t kill her.” “We’ll just say she had a sudden miscarriage and her body couldn’t handle it. A severe allergic response to the medication. Whatever makes the story clean.” “But…” Dante sounded like he was already thinking about it. Gianna scoffed. “Dante, be honest with yourself. If this actually goes to a vote, you being Ash has almost zero chance of becoming Don. And then what? Harper takes the seat. If she gives birth to a boy, the next Don is practically guaranteed. And you—living as Ash—become irrelevant. Invisible. We’ll be bowing to someone else’s rule. Is that the life you want? Is that how far you’ve fallen—from Don Moretti to someone else’s obedient little puppy?” Dante faltered. “But… what if her father comes after us? We’d be as good as dead. He has political connections and mafia ties on both sides.” “I brought poison with me when you first called,” Gianna said calmly. “The kind even her father hauled her to get examined for—and still, nothing showed up. Just trust me on this.” My fingers curled into a tight fist. After everything… Dante and Gianna were actually planning to kill me. Dante’s voice dropped into that coaxing tone I knew too well. “Let me talk to her first, alright? I can get through to her. The best outcome would be to convince her to vote for me to be the Don. If that doesn’t work…Then we’ll go with your plan.” The voices faded. A moment later, the door creaked open. “Harper, are you awake yet?” I shifted, barely, and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Where am I…” “You passed out,” Dante said, his voice low and coaxing. “I brought you back to your room.” How convenient of him to leave out the part where his beloved wife drugged me and tried to kill me. “Did everyone vote yet?” I asked. Dante dragged a chair closer to the bed. “Harper, will you vote for me? I’m just as capable as Dante—better, even. I have real potential. And I promise this: once I’m elected Don, you’ll remain the Donna of the Moretti. Every right, every privilege—you’ll keep them all.” “Why…” I murmured. He leaned in. “What did you say?” “Why do you think you’re worthy of the title of Don?” A flicker of frustration crossed his eyes—he tried to hide it, but I saw it. “I will prove it to you,” he said tightly. Then, softening again, “Why don’t you rest for now? I’ll tell the others your vote is for me as Don. That’s all.” Then Dante opened the door and left. The moment the latch clicked shut, I forced my trembling hand toward my necklace. I’d installed a tiny pin device inside it—just in case the Moretti, or more specifically Dante and Gianna, decided not to let me walk away after today’s vote. I never actually thought I’d need it. I guess I never thought the Moretti would sink this low. But here we were. I pressed the pin down with all the strength I could gather. A signal shot to my phone—the automated message I’d drafted before today would be delivered straight to my father. Papa, I need you at the old Moretti mansion now. … After what felt like forever, I heard the low, familiar growl of my father’s car pulling up outside the mansion. Minutes later, the bedroom door creaked open. A maid walked in, “Mrs. Moretti, your father’s here. He’s waiting for you in the living room.” She came over to help me out of bed. The ether still made my legs feel like they were wrapped in sandbags, but I forced myself upright. When I went downstairs, I found everyone seated quietly in the study. Gianna cast a hateful glance my way then lowered her head as well. “Harper,” my father called, motioning me closer. “You told me to come for the vote today, but they said you were… taking a nap just then and the vote is already over?” “Is that so?” I looked at Gianna, and she flinched instantly. Telling my father what they’d done would’ve been far too merciful. And I wasn’t feeling merciful. I turned, letting my eyes sweep over Dante before settling on the nearest guard. “How many votes for Ash to take the Don’s seat so far?” “Only five, Donna,” the guard replied. “The remaining twenty members haven’t voted yet.” “Alright,” I said, straightening. “Since Ash’s vote seems unlikely to end anytime soon… why don’t we change what we’re voting on?” A ripple of whispers broke out across the hall. “We will now vote,” I announced, voice crisp, “on whether the current Donna, Harper Quinn, is fit to inherit her late husband Don Dante’s seat.” I ended with a slow smile—directed straight at Gianna and Dante. Let the real show begin. Chapter 6 Harper’s POV Dante looked like I’d just slapped him across the face. Gianna, on the other hand, stared at me like I’d grown horns—like the silly, grieving widow she thought she looked down turned out to be nothing she imagined. I held their stares and added sweetly, “Oh, and Ash… Gianna? Since neither of you have ever worked for the family before, I’m afraid you don’t get a vote today.” A few of the Moretti family members had started whispering among themselves. Back when Dante was being… well, Dante, they were his closest allies. But what they really cared about were money and protection. And now that Dante had decided to become his weaker twin brother, Ash, neither of those things were guaranteed anymore. I became their smarter choice. “If I am selected as the official Don of the Moretti, the Quinns will back me with every resource we have. That includes our political alliances and our cross-border connections.” A few men shifted in their seats. Good—they were listening. “Think about the expansion opportunities. The drug routes. The profits.” I let that sink in. “Some of you may hesitate, worrying about handing the Moretti to a Quinn. But rest assured—I was married to Dante Moretti. Even though he ‘died’…” My gaze slid to Dante. “…I will continue everything he once did.” A murmur rippled through the room. “And my father has came today and promised this, in front of every one of you: if you choose me, the Quinns will offer full support.” Nicholas paled. Dante looked worse. Gianna clutched Dante’s sleeve like she needed it to breathe. “Harper…” Dante’s expression twisted—confusion, anger, hurt, frustration all fighting for space. “About what I promised you—I will—” I cut him off. “Sorry, but you’re not my husband. And I don’t trust you with that level of responsibility anymore.” A gasp. A hiss. A few barely stifled curses. “Or,” I added lightly, “if you insist on taking the Don’s seat, I’ll simply leave—and the Quinn money and resources will leave with me. I’m doing everyone a favor here.” The whispers erupted into a storm. One by one, hands began to rise. Then more. And more. Until only a few remained lowered. Dante didn’t raise his hand. But he also didn’t dare open his mouth to stop the others from voting for me. “So,” I said, offering a small, composed smile as I straightened, “it seems the majority has made their decision.” I let the silence stretch just long enough before adding, “Thank you for your trust.” Then I rose, slipped my arm through my father’s, and walked out. … Father was angry at the Moretti. And I knew why. Ever since I was a child, he saw me as the brightest jewel in the entire Quinn empire. For someone as smart as him, he must’ve felt something was off today. “Papa,” I said gently, reaching out to smooth the deep furrow between his brows. “I’m okay. I really am.” He turned to me, and I saw it then—his eyes were red. “Harper,” he said hoarsely, “You know I’d give you anything you ever wanted, right?” I nodded. “Yes.” His voice dropped lower. “If the Moretti…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He sighed eventually. “If I had known it would end like this, I never would’ve let you marry into that family.” “You couldn’t have known the future,” I said softly, trying to comfort him. “The moment Dante died, they dragged his twin brother back to replace him. Disgusting.” His jaw tightened. “What did they think my daughter was? Someone who would simply comfort herself with her dead husband’s brother?” I let out a small chuckle. “I’m grown now, Papa. You don’t have to worry about things like that anymore. They didn’t want to lose the Quinn money and resources—of course I knew. That’s why I called for the vote.” “Harper, is there something else?” Father looked straight into my eyes. “If there’s anything I can do, I don’t want you facing it alone. Do you hear me?” “I’ll tell you everything when the time is right, Papa. But for now… I want to handle this myself. You can’t protect me for the rest of my life.” Father sighed. “I would, if I could. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” I leaned into the warmth of his arms. “I won’t, Papa. I won’t let myself be vulnerable to anyone ever again.” Father had given the Moretti so much—money, influence, reputation. And all of it had been for me, so my life there would be good. The Moretti hadn’t only used me. They’d used my father, too. And the thought of it—of Dante draining my father’s goodwill year after year while pretending to be this moral, devoted husband—sent a fresh blaze through my vengeful heart. Just wait, Dante. I’ll return everything you did to me— exactly the way you deserve it. As for Gianna—arrogant enough to think she could manipulate me, belittle me—she was about to discover the real Harper Quinn. … Two days later, I went to the hospital for my surgery. Dr. Zane had kept her promise—the procedure was quick. When I woke up in the recovery room, father was already there, sitting at my bedside. He looked like he had aged overnight. “Papa,” I whispered, still staring at the ceiling, “Don’t be sad. Maybe it just… wasn’t the right time.” My father nodded, wiping the corner of his eye. “While you were in surgery, I went ahead and finalized the casino deal. It’s yours now. Completely. I made sure of it. No one can take it from you.” He handed me the documents. My name was printed at the bottom—bold, sharp, indisputable. “Thank you, Papa,” I said, fingers tightening around the edge of the paper. “I won’t let you down again.” He shook his head. “Silly. You’ve never let me down.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Now rest,” he murmured, brushing my hair back. “Rest as long as you need. Because when you get better, my little queen—there’s an empire waiting for your command.”