Does 'Biggie: Voletta Wallace Remembers Her Son' Explain Biggie'S Ending?

[RATED 19+ CONTENT AHEAD] "This is the last time, Thea." He thrust himself entirely into me, and I whimpered. "Yes, Daddy." That was the lie we told ourselves. *** He was my father's best friend. The man I called "Uncle Stellan." Now, my father is gone, and Stellan Vaughn is my new guardian. My new boss. He’s cold, ruthless, and the most powerful man in New York. He’s supposed to protect me, to guide me. But at my father's funeral, when his dark eyes met mine, what I saw wasn't comfort. It was a hunger that lit a matching fire in me. That's when I realized, there was no going back for this man and me, nor were we prepared to experience both of our lives getting f**ked over. He thinks I’m an innocent, grieving girl. He doesn't know I'm just as broken as he is. He doesn't know I want his control to shatter. He's the one man I can never have. The one man who could destroy my future. And the only one I'm willing to sin for.

I had just suffered a miscarriage. With trembling fingers, I called my husband, only to hear the sounds of a rowdy party on the other end. "Don, this was supposed to be your anniversary gift for your wife," a voice teased amidst the cheers. "Giving it to Miss Lena instead—aren't you afraid your lady will throw a fit?" Vincent's voice was deep and dismissive. "Lena's brother died saving my life. I owe her. As for Isabella... she's gentle. She'll understand." He paused, his tone turning colder. "Besides, she came to me with those scandalous rumors surrounding her past. The resources the Corleone family has given her over the years are more than enough to compensate for these little grievances." As blood stained the hem of my skirt, I silently pressed the end-call button. Tears fell uncontrollably. He doesn't know yet—the baby is gone, and I am finally done with him.

It had been six years since Vincent Castellano was declared dead in that “car crash”, and I was still alone. My friends kept nagging me to move on. Even in my dreams, Vincent was there, begging me to stop living in the past. So I finally caved and agreed to a blind date with Leo Christopher, the guy who’d been chasing me for years. I’d decided I’d make a clean break with Vincent once and for all on the Day of the Dead. But the second I stepped out of the cemetery, a billboard for a luxury brownstone in Brooklyn Heights caught my eye. It was the exact place Vincent had been obsessed with back when I thought he was alive. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was heading straight for it. What I saw that day is seared into my brain for the rest of my life. There, on the bench outside the house, sat Vincent. The man was laid to rest in the Castellano family crypt. And he had his arm around another woman. That woman? Mia Rossi. The card dealer he’d been screwing behind my back six years prior. The same one I’d caught him red-handed with, the one I’d made him fire from the family casino.

Adrian Vance, heir to the Vance family, and I were together for three years. When we broke up, it got ugly. At the height of everything we had, I took a million dollars from his father and got rid of our child. He was outside the operating room, crying like a little kid. "Eve, I'm begging you, don't be this cruel. Don't throw away our love, don't throw away our baby..." I smiled, cold as ice, my nails digging into my palm. "You fool. Just go. The thought of carrying your child makes me sick." Adrian held back his tears until the corners of his eyes went red, and finally he let go of my wrist. Later, Adrian became the Don. We met again when I was at my lowest. It was his engagement party. The blonde standing at his side was about to become his noble Donna. And there I was, on the floor at his feet, begging him for a little money. He asked if I regretted it. I didn't regret a thing. He still didn't know that I'd given birth to that child and raised him. And now, that boy is dying.

On my thirtieth birthday, someone placed a photograph of my husband and another woman among my gifts. Dante Rossetti had his arm around Serena Caruso, the young singer he claimed was only a business investment. Every guest at the Don’s feast watched me, waiting for me to cry, break down, or chase after him like I always had. But this time, I only turned the photograph face down and cut the cake. For three months, Dante had been coming home late for Serena’s performances, Serena’s troubles, and Serena’s future. He said he was protecting the family’s investment. He said she was the next big thing. I believed him until the night I needed him most. When my pregnancy took a dangerous turn, I called Dante for help. He never came. That night, I lost the child we had both once treasured. After that, I went to the Rossetti matriarch and made one request. I wanted my marriage dissolved. Dante thought I would always forgive him. He thought I would always wait for him to come home. He was wrong. I left with nothing but the pieces of my broken life. Only after I disappeared did Dante learn the truth. The child he had promised to protect was gone. The wife who had loved him for five years was gone. And for the first time, Dante Rossetti realized that the one person who would have stayed by his side forever was the one person he had pushed away.

Anthony Vitale—my husband’s older brother—was found dead after a fall at one of the family’s private properties on Long Island. He died before the men around him could even call it an accident. My husband, Enzo Vitale, stepped in as head of the family. At the same time, the senior men of the family made the decision for him—Enzo would take responsibility for his brother’s widow. His mother, Donna Victoria Vitale—the one truly running things behind the scenes—made it clear in the study at the estate. “Sophia is alone now,” she said. “You take her in. First, to carry on your brother’s bloodline. Second, to keep her under this family’s protection. This is family law.You don’t get a say.” That night, Enzo held me close, his voice low and soothing. “Elena, I’ll give her one child. That’s it. Once she’s pregnant, I’m done with her. You’re the only one who matters to me.” I believed him. But things didn’t stay that way. At first, he spent one night a month with her. Then it turned into one night a month with me. That was when I knew—he wasn’t mine anymore. The day Sophia announced her pregnancy at the private medical office the Vitales used, Enzo slipped the Vitale heirloom onto her finger—a black onyx signet ring engraved with the Vitale crest. It was the same ring he gave me when we got engaged. And he did it in front of everyone. That was the moment I knew—it was time to walk away.