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As I watch him disappear from my sight, the reality of my situation sinks in.
I have no choice but to leave Felix's estate, and Chicago, behind.
Fear lurches in my stomach as I think about the baby growing inside me.
How can I keep this child safe without Felix by my side?
Especially with the danger that surrounds both our families.
Tears stain my cheeks as I return to his house with the chauffeur and to the room I've called home for the past few months.
The once warm and inviting space now feels cold and empty, a reflection of my heart.
"Damn it, Rosalie," I whisper to myself, trying to pull together the tattered remains of my courage.
"You have to be strong for your baby."
The thought of my unborn child revives my determination, giving me the strength to pack my belongings.
This child deserves a better life than the one I had, and I'll do anything to ensure they get it.
Even if it means leaving the man I love behind.
With every item I carefully place in my bag, I feel the weight of my decision settling on my shoulders.
My life in Chicago has come to a crashing halt, but I cling to the hope that I can find a way to bring Felix back to me one day.
For now, though, I must face my uncertain future independently, driven by the love for my unborn child and the hope of a safer life.
Tears stream down my face as I stumble through the room at Felix's estate.
The weight of despair feels like a heavy stone in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
My mind races with thoughts of fear and panic, echoing in every heartbeat.
I'm pregnant, alone, and now an enemy of the man I love.
I wipe the tears from my eyes, determination flooding through me.
If I am to survive, if my unborn child is to have a chance at a life free from the dangerous world of the mafia, I must leave tonight.
As I frantically gather my belongings, I feel a burning sense of injustice.
"Damn you, Felix," I whisper, my voice trembling with anger and heartache.
"Why couldn't you just listen to me?"
The room's silence provides no solace, leaving me to continue my frantic preparations.
Clothes, money, and other essentials are hastily stuffed into a duffel bag, each serving as a painful reminder of the life I am leaving behind.
I don't know what will come next, but I must trust my mother.
When my father insisted I marry Hunter Drucci, she was the only one who showed me a way out.
I have no reason to trust these enforcers, but I have no reason not to.
If they belonged to my father or Hunter Drucci, they would have taken me then and there and not left me with a choice.
