The afternoon was stifling, a sickly shade of gray that perfectly mirrored my mood. The apartment was silent — a strange luxury after so many years of living in chaos and noise. I curled up on the soft leather sofa, the same one Miguel had imported from Italy when we started to "rise in life." Before, we sat on crates. Now, we were surrounded by luxury.

But not all that glitters hides the cracks.

I was exhausted. Three months pregnant. Alone most of the time, while Miguel was "taking care of business" I preferred not to understand. I still remembered when everything was different. We were two broke kids, stuck in a miserable neighborhood, with no money for rent. We used to sleep together on the cold wooden floor, sharing a single threadbare blanket. We shared what little we had — sometimes a hard piece of bread and some tea.

It was like that for years.

Miguel had always been ambitious. He hated that life of misery, and I... I loved him so much that I didn't question it when he started keeping "certain company." It began small: delivering packages, transporting dirty money. Then came the extortion. The violence. But Miguel rose fast, very fast. He was charismatic, intelligent, and cold when he needed to be. The mafia bosses quickly saw potential in him.

I stood by him every step of the way. Blind, in love, believing he was doing it all for us, that he would do... everything for me...

Now we lived in a penthouse in the city center, with a view of the mirrored buildings we once seemed destined to clean. Luxury cars in the garage. Jewelry. Trips. But none of that mattered more than giving him the news about my unexpected pregnancy. I dreamed of becoming a mother.

Suddenly... my phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number, from a woman... appeared on the screen.

"You don't know me, but I think you need to know. Miguel and I have been together for the past few months. He never mentioned you, but I found out. I can't hide it anymore."

My eyes froze on the screen. A second message arrived with a photo... Miguel, in a luxury club, laughing and embracing several young, elegant women. The image made me nauseous...

My heart shattered.

For a long time, I just sat there, paralyzed. The pain came slowly, like burning ice. Then came the tears. A crushing wave. It wasn't just the betrayal. It was everything it represented. Ten years. I had stood by his side when he was nothing. When no one believed he could get more than a plate of food at the end of the day.

And now, pregnant, more vulnerable than I had ever been, this was how he treated me.

When the sound of keys turning in the door broke the silence,