Eight Years Beneath His Crown, One Night Beneath His Knife.

On the day I married Dominic Westwood, my mother was killed in a hit-and-run. The person behind the wheel was Ivy Mercer, the little princess Dominic had raised inside the Westwood Mafia family. She was the girl everyone in the underground world knew. The one Dominic had protected with his own hands. The police released the surveillance footage from the street. Ivy was driving a black Maybach registered under the Westwood family. She hit my mother. But she didn’t stop. She kept driving, dragging my mother across the road for dozens of kilometers. By the time the car finally stopped, my mother was beyond recognition. Her bones were exposed. There was almost nothing left of the woman who had raised me. “She went too far this time.” “No matter what you decide, I’ll stand by you.” Those were the words Dominic Westwood said to me. It was the first time in eight years that he had chosen me over everyone else. So I believed him. I believed that the man who ruled the Westwood syndicate with an iron hand would finally give me justice. I filed a lawsuit against Ivy for intentional homicide. I wanted her to pay for taking my mother’s life. But the night before the trial, Dominic came to me. He placed a blank check on the table. His face was expressionless. “Ivy made a mistake.” “She was young and reckless.” “I’ve already dealt with her.” “Elena, if she goes to prison, her entire life will be destroyed.” I stared at him. The man who had once promised to protect me was now protecting the person who murdered my mother. When I refused to withdraw the charges, Dominic made his decision. To stop me from appearing in court, he locked me, a pregnant woman, inside the underground prison beneath the Westwood estate. For three days and nights, I was trapped in darkness. No one came. No one helped me. That was the moment I finally understood. Dominic Westwood would never choose me. Not when the person standing against me was someone he considered family. …… Three days later, the heavy steel door opened. Dominic walked in. He sat across from me. “Elena.” “Have you thought about withdrawing the lawsuit?” There was no apology. No guilt. Only another demand. A demand to save Ivy. I lifted my head slowly. My voice was weak, but every word was clear. “I will never withdraw it.” “I will make Ivy pay for what she did.” The underground room was silent. I could barely see Dominic’s expression in the dim light. But I could see his cold eyes. “She’s young,” he said again. As if that single sentence could erase a life. “She drank too much. She lost control of the car.” “It was an accident.” “I’ll compensate you.” “Write any amount you want on the check.” “Your mother was sixty years old.” “The Westwood family can give you millions.” “You’ll still be getting something.” Getting something? My chest tightened. My fingers trembled. “Dominic.” “That was my mother.” “She gave me my life.” “She raised me.” “How dare you put a price on her death?” My voice broke. “Ivy knew she hit someone.” “She knew my mother was under that car.” “But she kept driving.” “She dragged her for miles.” “That was not an accident.” “That was murder.” Dominic’s expression darkened. For the first time, the patience in his eyes disappeared. “Elena.” “I’m giving you one last chance.” His trusted subordinate placed a tablet in front of me. The screen turned on. A live video from the hospital appeared. My father was lying alone in the intensive care unit. Years ago, he had sacrificed himself to save Dominic and was left in a vegetative state. Beside his bed stood a masked man from the Westwood family. In his hand was a pair of scissors. The blade was pressed against my father’s oxygen tube. “Withdraw the charges.” “Or your father dies.” “Choose.” My entire body froze. My blood turned cold. I screamed. But Dominic grabbed my arms and forced me to look at the screen. “Think carefully.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. “Are you really willing to destroy everything over someone who is already dead?” Those words broke something inside me. Because I remembered how everything began. Years ago, Dominic had just taken over the Westwood syndicate. He was young. Powerful. Ruthless. He destroyed every enemy who dared challenge the family. That made countless people want him dead. During a major conflict between the Westwood family and a rival syndicate, Dominic was ambushed and kidnapped. My father, a senior investigator who had been tracking the underground forces, led the rescue operation. He took a bullet meant for Dominic. He saved his life. After that, Dominic brought my parents and me into his protection. He paid for my father’s medical treatment. He protected our family from every enemy who came after us. For five years, he stayed beside me. He remembered every birthday. Every important moment. Every time I needed him, he appeared. I fell in love with him without even realizing it. When I graduated from college, Dominic proposed to me in front of everyone. The heir of the Westwood Mafia promised me the happiest marriage in the world. He promised that no one would ever hurt me again. But now. On the day I became his wife. He was the one who broke that promise.