Chapter3

The next morning, I opened my phone. The encrypted app notifications had exploded.

#MacKettiFamilyScandal #DevotedGodfatherMask #CorsicaSistersFeud—these tags were trending at the top. The comments below were a chaotic mess.

Some called me a spoiled shrew, deliberately posting photos to smear my husband. Others called Mia a snake who'd already crawled into her brother-in-law's bed. Still others dug up the Rossi family incident from three years ago, saying the MacKetti family had dirty hands and would get what was coming to them.

Logan's PR team issued a statement saying the photos were maliciously doctored, the Long Island villa was an investment property, and Mia only occasionally went there to help manage it.

They even posted so-called "evidence"—a property purchase contract and Mia's employee ID from the family business.

But nobody was buying it. Users dug up surveillance screenshots of Mia entering and leaving that villa last month.

Others discovered that the earrings Mia wore were from the same collection as the birthday gift Logan gave me last year.

More ridiculously, Mia herself posted an update.

The photo showed her red-eyed, like she'd just been crying. The caption read:

"Logan and I are just family. Sister, why would you slander me like this? I know you're still upset about Christopher, but you can't take it out on me."

As soon as she posted it, more debate erupted. Some cursed me for being cruel, others pitied Mia, saying she was too pathetic.

Watching my screen, I felt both angry and amused. Mia really had perfected this act of playing the victim.

Just then, the bedroom door swung open. Logan walked in, his eyes completely bloodshot—clearly he hadn't slept all night.

"Elvira, stop this." He walked to the bed, his voice sounding exhausted. "The PR team is already handling it. If this continues, it'll be very bad for the MacKetti family's reputation."

"Stop this?" I looked up at him. "Logan, am I the one causing trouble? You and Mia betrayed me first! Now she's posting photos playing innocent, and instead of defending me, you're blaming me for making trouble?"

"That's not what I mean." He sighed. "Mia is your cousin after all. If this gets too ugly, it won't be good for the Corsica family either."

"Not good for the Corsica family?" I laughed coldly. "You mean not good for you, not good for Mia! The only person it's not bad for is me! Logan, are you forgetting—I'm your wife!"

He didn't respond, just pulled a black metal card from his suit pocket and placed it on the bedsheet.

"Elvira, don't be angry. This card has no limit. Buy whatever you want. Or do you want to go to the Caribbean to clear your head? I'll have someone arrange a plane immediately."

Looking at that card, I felt utterly disgusted. He thought money could shut me up? Could make me pretend nothing happened?

"Logan, I don't want your money." I pushed the card back, staring into his eyes. "I just want Mia dead. If you can't do it, then don't interfere with what I do."

His face darkened.

"Elvira, don't push me."

"You're the one pushing me." I got up from the bed and walked to the door. "From today on, I won't ask about you and Mia anymore. But my business—you stay out of it too."

With that, I pulled open the door and walked out.

I'd just come down to the villa's entrance hall when I saw Mia's car parked outside.

She rolled down the window, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Sister, had a fight with brother-in-law? What a shame—yesterday for your birthday, he specially asked me what gift he should get you."

Looking at that face, I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

"Mia, don't celebrate too soon." I lowered my voice. "Everything you took from me, I'll make you spit back out, piece by piece."

She shrugged, her smile growing wider.

"Sister, I'm waiting to see that."

With that, she hit the gas, and the car sped away.

I watched the taillights disappear around the corner, one thought filling my mind.

Mia, you have to die.

I didn't go back upstairs. I went straight to the garage and took the black sedan I rarely used.

The car headed toward Midtown Manhattan. I had a penthouse apartment there, bought under an anonymous company name. Even Logan didn't know about it.

I locked myself in the apartment and started planning how to kill Mia.

Logan wouldn't do it, so I'd do it myself.

I checked Mia's public schedule and found she was attending a charity auction gala the night after tomorrow. The gala was being held at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel—plenty of celebrities would be there.

I thought it was a perfect opportunity.

Using the backup computer in the apartment, I logged into a dark web marketplace and contacted a seller. I paid in Bitcoin for a small handgun and two miniature plastic explosives.

I planned to approach Mia at the gala and shoot her.

If the scene was too chaotic to get close, I'd plant the explosives in a vase or decoration, detonate them remotely, and take her down with me.

That evening, lying in the apartment bed, thinking about the plan for the day after tomorrow, I felt both nervous and excited.

I could already see Mia falling before me, see the final expression on her face.

Just then, my stomach suddenly cramped.

I rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the sink.

I thought it was just stress, didn't think much of it.

But over the next two days, the nausea became more and more frequent.

On the third day afternoon, I went to a private clinic far from home and used a fake name for the examination.

The female doctor looked at the lab report and smiled at me:

"Congratulations, Ms. Cortez. You're pregnant."

I stared at those two words "positive" on the report, my mind going blank.

Pregnant? Mine and Logan's child?

I didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

This child's timing couldn't be worse.

I was planning murder—how could I do something like that while carrying a child?

But I couldn't bear to not have this baby.

This was my child, my only blood relative left in this world.

I sat in the clinic's waiting area and cried alone for a long time.

I'd considered giving up on killing Mia, but then I'd think of her betrayal, think of those photos of her and Logan at the Long Island villa, and hatred would consume me.

No. I couldn't give up. Mia had to die. What she owed me, she had to repay.

I wiped away my tears and made my decision.

Kill Mia first, then find a safe place to have the baby and raise him on my own.

The night after tomorrow, Waldorf Astoria Hotel.

Either Mia dies, or she and I die together.