At our engagement party, with everyone important in our world gathered under one roof, Lorenzo made a decision that shattered everything. He invited the one person I had spent my life avoiding—Stefania Volante.

The moment I saw Stefania enter the room, every buried memory came rushing back. The day her mother—my father’s mistress—forced their way into our lives, smirking as my mother cried helplessly in the sitting room. The years of humiliation, of Stefania’s calculated cruelty, stripping me of pride and joy piece by piece. And she was favored over and over by our father.

‘Even my last name is different from theirs. They are Volante and I seem like an illegitimate child for varying my mother’s last name—Vitale,’ I thought of. ‘Poor me, poor Aletta…’

My hand shook as I held my wine glass. The trembling of my hands betrayed the storm within me I tried to hide. When Stefania smirked at me from across the room, I couldn’t stand it. My grip faltered, and the glass shattered, red wine splattering onto the pristine marble floor. In my panic, I sought Lorenzo, my rock, my sanctuary. I moved toward him, desperate for his protection.

Instead, he shoved me aside. His voice, usually so gentle, turned cold and sharp. “Aletta, look at yourself! Apologize to Stefania. Now.”

His words were a slap, leaving me stunned and frozen. 

This time I understood that Lorenzo had never really loved me for all these years.

I turned and left the engagement scene and called my mother, "Mama, I want to call off the wedding."

Chapter 01

“Mama, I want to call off the wedding.” My voice trembled as the words left my lips, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

My call to Mama reached her halfway across the world, where she was busy overseeing a shipment in Sicily. There was silence for a moment, a heavy pause that made my chest tighten. Then her voice came through, calm but with an undertone of something I couldn’t quite place. Acceptance? Or was it disappointment?

“Alright, Aletta…” she sighed. “You’re my only child, and this family—everything my father built for me—will be yours soon enough,” she stated next, like I was calling because I got broke and needed her to rescue me. “The sooner you return, the sooner you can learn to carry the mantle.”

“Mama…” My voice cracked as I tried to hold back the emotion threatening to spill over. A sob escaped before I could stop it. “I—”

“Disregard whatever the pain you felt for now,” she said in her steady tone. “I admit that I thought Lorenzo was different. But in the end, he’s walked the same path as so many others in this life. Power and temptation… such cruel mistresses, mia figlia.”

I couldn’t reply. My throat was tight. My heart is a twisted knot of pain. She is really my mother… I don’t need to say too much information, still she already knows the score.

And yeah, she was right. Because even me, I truly believed Lorenzo Corvino was different. We had grown up together, childhood sweethearts in the volatile world of mafia alliances. At eighteen, he had promised me a lifetime of loyalty and love—a promise I thought would be unshakable.

Lorenzo wasn’t like the others in our world. The Corvinos were at the pinnacle of power, controlling vast territories and commanding respect—and fear. Yet, Lorenzo stood apart. He was disciplined, courteous, and his integrity was rare in our circles.

In the eight years we had been together, Lorenzo had never been involved in a single scandal. He had never even raised his voice in anger. To outsiders, it was clear: Lorenzo’s quiet strength was matched only by his devotion to me. His every action spoke of a love so strong and deep that I had let myself believe in it completely.

And then tonight’s event happened.

At our engagement party, with everyone important in our world gathered under one roof, Lorenzo made a decision that shattered everything. He invited the one person I had spent my life avoiding—Stefania Volante.

The moment I saw Stefania enter the room, every buried memory came rushing back. The day her mother—my father’s mistress—forced their way into our lives, smirking as my mother cried helplessly in the sitting room. The years of humiliation, of Stefania’s calculated cruelty, stripping me of pride and joy piece by piece. And she was favored over and over by our father.

‘Even my last name is different from theirs. They are Volante and I seem like an illegitimate child for varying my mother’s last name—Vitale,’ I thought of. ‘Poor me, poor Aletta…’

My hand shook as I held my wine glass. The trembling of my hands betrayed the storm within me I tried to hide. When Stefania smirked at me from across the room, I couldn’t stand it. My grip faltered, and the glass shattered, red wine splattering onto the pristine marble floor. In my panic, I sought Lorenzo, my rock, my sanctuary. I moved toward him, desperate for his protection.

Instead, he shoved me aside. His voice, usually so gentle, turned cold and sharp. “Aletta, look at yourself! Apologize to Stefania. Now.”

His words were a slap, leaving me stunned and frozen. I followed his gaze and saw it—a faint stain of wine on Stefania’s designer heels. She looked up at me, her expression a perfect mix of triumph and mock pity.

“Lorenzo,” I whispered, “you can’t be serious.”

He glared at me, his anger palpable. “Apologize, Aletta. You’re drunk and out of control. If you can’t handle yourself, you’re not fit to be a Corvino.”

I couldn’t breathe. His words, his betrayal, played out in front of everyone: our families, our allies, our enemies. The humiliation burned hotter than any flame. Gathering what was left of my pride, I barked at security to escort Stefania out so she could change shoes. But Lorenzo stepped in her way, shielding her.

“This is your fault,” Lorenzo coldly said. “You’ve embarrassed yourself, me, and this entire family. Now you want to boss your sister to leave the party just like that?” He then turned and walked away, taking Stefania with him.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, the eyes of our guests searing into me. The whispers, the smirks, the looks of pity—I felt them all. The weight of their judgment crushed me until I couldn’t bear it any longer. I went out. Away from them.

Away from the cruel prejudices and there I called Antonella Vitale—my mother.

“Crying for shameless men like Lorenzo, you must think twice. Is he worthy of your tears?” A man said that made me end the call I was having with my mother.

I turned to face him. I frowned. “Matteo Santoro,” I spat his name. “What are you doing here?”

“Following a damsel in distress, what else?”

Chapter 02

“I’m not some damsel,” I hissed at Matteo and left. I don’t trust him, he’s working under Corvino’s organization.

“Where are you going?” He followed as I walked back to the Elysian Manor premises. “Back to humiliation?”

“None of your business.” I continued walking and looking for the driver assigned to me.

“Going back to Lorenzo’s villa?” He continued following me. “I could bring you there.”

“I can manage.”

“But I must be the one to bring you home. I am the assigned driver and bodyguard of yours, Signora Vitale, from tonight to your grand wedding.”

“What?!” I scowled. Disregard the sarcasm in his tone by saying ‘grand’ in my wedding. I was surprised that Lorenzo assigned him to me, Matteo—the most ruthless among Corvino’s people.

“Consider yourself lucky.” Matteo grabbed my arm and pulled me to follow him in his Cayenne.

I didn’t utter any words and thought of the reason why he was assigned to me by Lorenzo. Maybe my dear Lorenzo wants me to be dead before the wedding. Maybe he wants himself to be clean if I was out before the wedding.

“Here are we,” Matteo informed me as I was busy planning my way out discreetly.

“Okay,” I opened the passenger’s door and walked to the villa.

Inside, my mind wavered between anger and disbelief. If Stefania was out of the picture, I will still convince myself it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe Lorenzo had been trying to protect me in some twisted way. Maybe he deserved another chance.

I got inside the villa that Lorenzo gifted me three months ago. This will be our home once we get married. And from the time he gave me the keys, for three months, I was busy in interior decoration of this house, making it suitable for my soon-to-be husband’s lavish taste.

As I climbed the stairs, something caught my eye. Through a slightly open door, I saw two figures in my bridal chamber. The room that was supposed to be ours—Lorenzo and I.

But there they were. Lorenzo and Stefania. Making out.

I breathed in so deeply. Painfully.

They were standing, his arms around her, kissing her passionately. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. Hands trembling, I pulled out my phone and accessed the surveillance footage. I needed to know. I must have my evidence.

My world shattered as I was staring at their faces closely devouring each other. Everything I had believed in—his love, his loyalty, our future—was a lie.

Lorenzo’s voice dripped with regret as he spoke next after leaving Stefania’s lips. “I regret proposing to Aletta. But since you’re here, I’m willing to call off the wedding.”

The words slammed into me like a freight train. I snickered. “As if I wasn’t thinking that too, Lorenzo…” I whispered.

The sharp sting in my feet brought me back to reality. I looked down and saw my high heels soaked in blood. These were the heels Lorenzo had given me as an engagement gift. I loved them, even though they were too small. I had worn them tonight, hoping to endure their discomfort as a symbol of our love. Now, after the long journey back, they had left my feet covered in blisters—a painful reminder of the sacrifices I’d made. Sacrifices that gain only pain.

I slipped them off without hesitation and tossed them into the trash. Shoes that didn’t fit, no matter how beautiful, weren’t worth keeping. And a man that didn’t love me, no matter how much I adored him before, was no longer worth fighting for.

Yes. Lorenzo Corvino was no longer mine to hold onto. The man I’d loved for over a decade had made his choice, and it wasn’t me.

But I wasn’t about to let him or Stefania walk away unscathed. They both used me. Both enjoyed my humiliation.

And the wedding, the one I had poured my heart into. The one that had been my labor of love. Every detail was meticulously planned, a reflection of everything I had envisioned for our future. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting it become a gift for those two.

Instead, I would use it to expose their betrayal. On the wedding day, I’d deliver a surprise they’d never forget. I’d take what power I had left and wield it like a blade.

I forced myself to appear unaffected, even though my hands shook as I reached for my phone. The surveillance footage continued playing before me. Good!

And I thanked myself for placing a surveillance camera in that room three nights ago. It was supposed to monitor my ‘beloved’ Lorenzo's reaction to the interior design I had done there, but now the purpose changed, it was for me to watch him and my filthy half-sister even though I wanna puke instead.

Lorenzo lay Stefania on the bed, her expression a blend of smugness and faux vulnerability. 

“If I didn’t return,” Stefania said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She kicked playfully at Lorenzo, her movements lazy but calculated. “Are you really going to marry Aletta?”

Lorenzo didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he caught her foot in his hands, massaging it gently. The sight made my blood run cold.

Stefania chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied smile. “You don’t need to answer. I already know. Everything you’ve done has been to push me away, just so you could bring me back.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, laced with faux sweetness. “All these years, you’ve never truly let go. This bridal chamber, decorated just the way I like it, the wedding ring you chose, even those high heels Aletta wore—all of it was for me.”

My hands tightened around my phone, the plastic case creaking under the pressure.

Stefania’s foot pressed against Lorenzo’s chest, and she laughed softly. “Tell me, Lorenzo. The one you’ve truly loved all along is me.”

Lorenzo didn’t confirm it, but he went on top of Stefania again and kissed her again. It wasn’t a fleeting kiss. It was slow, deliberate, filled with longing. It was a kiss that slapped me more of the reality of how useful I was for their love story.

Tears streamed down my face, unchecked and relentless. I thought of the eight years we’d spent together. The moments I’d tried to kiss him, how he’d always turn away, shy and reserved. I’d convinced myself it was his modesty, his quiet nature. I’d never imagined that all his passion, all his love, had been reserved for someone else.

For Stefania Volante.

My nails dug into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me in the present. I had to get out of here. My heart felt like it was being shredded, and staying any longer would only prolong the agony.

I stumbled to the roadside, my vision blurred by tears. My hand shot out to hail a cab, desperate to escape. But before I could get in, a sharp voice cut through the night.

“Aletta!”

Chapter 03

I froze. It was Lorenzo.

I saw Matteo behind him watching us. He might follow me too as instructed by his boss.

“Aletta, where are you going?” Lorenzo’s footsteps echoing against the pavement as he approached me.

I looked straight at his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes searching mine for something he would never find.

“I just changed my shoes, Lorenzo,” I answered his query somehow. And amazingly, my voice came out steadier than I expected, though it carried the sharp edge of betrayal. “Why? What do you want, Lorenzo?”

“You’re here,” he said, his tone urgent. “Did you—”

“Did I do what?” I asked innocently. He looked guilty with just controlled emotion in his eyes.

Lorenzo’s gazes daggered me and it felt suffocating. My heart, fragile and fraying, strained against his piercing eyes.

I smiled bitterly. “Oh! I saw you and Stefania talking. Was that the thing you wanna ask if I did see you?” I probed.

Lorenzo took a step closer. “Aletta, listen. It’s not what it looks like,” he began, his voice steady and calm.

“Not what it looks like?” I snapped with a frown. I continued my act as if I didn’t see and hear them while my anger actually wanted to break free. “Is there anything I need to know? You see…” I shrugged. And there I glanced at Matteo who was still monitoring us with a grin on his lips. “I just changed shoes, Lorenzo, for the one I put in trash didn’t fit my feet and made me bleed.”

Lorenzo looked at my feet and thankfully the blisters I had became part of my act. He opened his mouth to respond, “Aletta, I—”

“No need to worry, I can manage…” I smiled again, a mischievous one. “I always manage, remember?”

"Yes, of course. And you do understand why I brought Stefania here, right? She is your sister and she’s drunk so I helped her." Lorenzo’s voice was convincing.

I nodded. My breathing shallow as I controlled myself to scream to his face what I really saw. Instead, I stared at him, the man I once called my anchor in a storm.

"Yep, certainly I do. Stefania’s my ‘half-sister’ after all." I said calmly, each word dripping with venom. "She’s the child of a mistress that broke my family. And being recognized as the legitimate daughter of Domenico Volante after my mother gave up being into a toxic relationship…” I sneered as I saw Stefania approaching us, “I hope my dear ‘half-sister’ won’t walk the same path of her mother, who will whoring herself to become a mistress as well."

Stefania’s expression faltered, but Lorenzo’s rage intensified with what insult I said to his beloved Stefania. He stepped closer, his looming figure casting a shadow over me. "Enough, Aletta! Your poisonous words have no place here. Don’t say that to Stefania or—"

“Or what?” I straightened, refusing to cower.

Lorenzo crossed her brows. "No wonder your mother abandoned you, and your father favored your sister over you," Lorenzo stated, which made me tremble. "With that sharp tongue and venomous heart, no one could ever love you, Aletta. In fact, you deserve to spend your life alone!"

His words hit me harder than any physical blow ever could. I’d spent a decade building a life with this man, pouring my soul into loving him, believing in the strength of our bond. And now, he was tearing me apart, defending the very person who had tormented me.

"Lorenzo…" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Do you even hear yourself? I’m your bride but you are scowling me because you felt bad for your bride’s sister. What a joke you are!"

Lorenzo didn’t answer as his attention had already shifted to Stefania, who sniffled delicately behind him with hands trembling. Wow. The theatrics of my ‘dear half-sister’ disgusted me, but Lorenzo? He fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. Stupid!

"Stefania, are you okay?" he asked, his voice softening as he turned to her. He cupped her elbow with tender familiarity, and something inside me snapped.

This wasn’t the man who had sworn to protect me, who said he would shield me from every harm I will encounter once I became his wife. This was a stranger, one who proved that everything he had said before was just a bait to lure me.

My feet throbbed as I took an unsteady step back. The blisters caused by the heels I wore first still give me pain, but… it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

Lorenzo’s gaze flicked to my feet. For a fleeting moment, guilt flashed in his eyes. "You’re hurt, Aletta," he muttered, almost as if it pained him to admit. “Let’s get back inside the villa. You need first aid.” He commanded Matteo next, “Bring Aletta inside.”

Before I could say something to refuse, Stefania suddenly bolted, her tears spilling over dramatically. "I can’t stay here!" she cried, her voice quivering with the perfect blend of anguish and despair. “Aletta hates me and I felt bad causing trouble here!”

The sight of her fleeing out next—running into the middle of the driveway—was the final act in her carefully choreographed performance. Lorenzo, predictably, rushed after her, shouting her name. And I? I followed with Matteo following me too with an unerasable smirk on his lips from watching us.

“Stop smirking,” I said to Matteo. “Can’t you see your boss ridiculing himself by chasing his bride’s half-sister? You should help him, right?”

“Your sister is not my concern here,” Matteo answered with amusement in his tone. “I’m only here for you, Miss Damsel.”

I made a face and looked at Stefania stumbled into the cobblestone. I rolled my eyes.

“What a pitiful act!” Matteo chuckled. “Your sis—’dear’ half-sister, I mean, should be in acting class.”

I hid my smile from what Matteo had said. I continued watching Stefania and Lorenzo as the latter cradled her trembling form as if she were the most precious thing in his world.

"Stefania, are you okay?" Lorenzo asked, his voice laced with worry.

She nodded weakly, clutching his shirt like a true damsel in distress. "I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Aletta just… she hates me so much, Lorenzo. I’m sorry for ruining everything."

“That’s the real damsel in distress…” I told Matteo and walked away. I ignored the sharp pain in my feet as I strode away from the scene. My heart ached, but my resolve hardened with every step.

Lorenzo’s voice rang out behind me. "Aletta! Wait!" he called. “Matteo followed her!”

I stopped but didn’t turn around. "Do yourself a favor, Lorenzo!" I almost yelled, my voice colder than I thought possible. "Focus on your precious—I mean…” I sneered, “focus on my dear half-sister. Help her. She’s so precious, right?”

Chapter 04

Lorenzo no longer cared about the doubts gnawing at him and rushed Stefania inside the house after I said that. He looks so funny with his urgency and unrelenting footsteps.

I sighed watching them and turned to look at Matteo. “I think your boss allowed me to enjoy my night, Matteo, so better… fuck off!”

I stepped back to find my car in the parking lot, I changed my mind to call a cab at first. But five more steps, some stone tripped my walk and I sprawled on the cold pavement. I furiously stared at my knees scraped by sharp stones that bit into my already battered skin.

“Seriously?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Why am I so unlucky tonight?!” I hissed.

Sitting up slowly on my own without taking the hand of Matteo as he extended it to me for some help, I noticed something glinting faintly. A cheap crescent moon necklace, its tarnished chain and weathered design betrayed its age. My hand trembled as I reached for it, and an unsettling sense of familiarity washed over me the moment I held it.

Memories from a lifetime ago flooded my mind, and then it clicked: the crescent moon tattoo on Lorenzo’s chest. My pulse quickened. This necklace wasn’t just a random trinket; it was part of a story Lorenzo had never shared with me. A story that now felt inextricably tied to Stefania.

"So that’s how it is..." I whispered, the words bitter on my tongue. The puzzle pieces I had ignored for years suddenly snapped into place, painting a picture I wished I’d never seen. The weight of the realization was suffocating.

Eight years of love, loyalty, and sacrifice—all one-sided. Lorenzo had never truly been mine. This trinket was purposely here as Stefania left it for me to see. I know it belonged to her, I saw it earlier in the engagement party worn by her. That’s why I felt odd looking at Stefania’s necklace that looks old and tarnished, it doesn’t suit her aura. Now, I know… it was just a display for me to see.

Clutching it tightly, I returned to the house. It felt heavier entering, but my resolve hardened with every passing second. By the time I reached my room, I knew what I had to do.

After sending a message to my mother that I will be with her in Sicily the day of the wedding, I looked around and began dismantling the remnants of the life I had meticulously built around Lorenzo. The red and gold decorations that once filled me with joy now felt like a mockery, each piece a reminder of the farce I’d been living.

Hours passed in a blur. By the time I was done, the wedding countdown caught my eye. My fingers hesitated, hovering over the glossy calendar. With a sharp inhale, I ripped off the word ‘wedding’ and replaced it with ‘departure countdown.’

This wasn’t the end, I promised myself. It was a beginning—of my escape from a decade of lies.

I walked outta my room and went downstairs again. I met Matteo’s piercing eyes and just continued my pace. I left the villa with one of Lorenzo’s luxury cars and went straight to a club and ordered a tequila. I saw Matteo following me but I didn't give a damn at all.

****

The next morning, my phone rang sharply, jarring me from my thoughts. Lorenzo’s voice greeted me in his tone of smooth yet distant, as if he were speaking to an employee rather than his fiancée.

"Aletta, are you awake? I had your favorite breakfast delivered. I’m tied up with something at the office today, so we’ll need to reschedule the wedding photos."

I pressed my fingers against my temple, trying to stifle the surge of frustration. "Alright," I replied evenly, keeping my tone neutral.

Lorenzo paused, sensing something amiss. "Don’t let last night’s incident trouble you," he said, his voice softening. "I’ve already apologized to Stefania on your behalf."

Woah! A bitter laugh threatened to escape, but I swallowed it down. "Okay."

"Stefania thinks the wedding is just a formality," he continued, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. "She said we don’t need to put too much effort into it. Our marriage doesn’t rely on grand gestures. And she’s right. What matters is us being husband and wife."

"I’ll go along with whatever you decide," I replied, the words tasting like ash. And honestly, it bores me.

Because in my heart, the decision had already been made. This wedding would be the simplest in history because it would never happen. I would let Lorenzo play his games until the very last moment.

As the day wore on, the suffocating weight of the house became unbearable. I needed to clear my head, to reclaim some semblance of control. I left the villa’s estate, driving aimlessly until I reached a quiet café on the outskirts of the city.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I settled into a corner booth. I pulled out the crescent moon necklace from my pocket, running my fingers over its worn surface.

"Trouble in paradise?" a deep voice interrupted my thoughts.

I looked up to find Matteo. Again.

I observed him, thinking why he—an ally of Volantes and Corvinos, and one of the most dangerous men in the underground society, kept on pestering me. I didn’t buy his reasons for being my driver and bodyguard after I learned from some confidant what he was capable of.

"Matteo," I greeted, forcing a smile. "Still have the fun following me, eh?"

Matteo’s piercing gray eyes studied me too with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He slid into the seat across from me, his expression unreadable. "I need to, right? And why here? I thought Lorenzo’s bride-to-be wants to enjoy dancing in the club and not hiding in a café. Alone and looked so sad. Neglected again?"

I sighed, twirling the necklace between my fingers. "Just needed some air." I don’t want to say much about what he said about me. He was there last night in the club. He saw what I did on the dance floor and he was there protecting me with the advances of some men.

Matteo’s gaze flicked to the necklace, his brows furrowing slightly. "That’s not yours, is it?"

My grip tightened instinctively. "Why? Do you have any idea about this?"

"Enough to know it’s not just a necklace for you," he replied cryptically. "You've been keeping it since you found it last night. Why? Playing with fire, Damsel?”

A dark laugh escaped me. "Yep, because fire might be exactly what I need right now."

Matteo leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "If you’re planning to take on Lorenzo and Stefania, you’ll need more than fire. You’ll need allies."

I met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. "And what are you offering, Matteo?"

He smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Revenge. The kind that will make them wish they never crossed you."

“And why the hell are you suggesting that to me?”

“Because I have reasons.” He grinned.

Chapter 05

The trending headline about Lorenzo flashed on my phone screen like a siren—Lorenzo Corvino spends $8 million on vintage moon brooch to bring a smile to his beloved.

The accompanying photo was grainy, but the world assumed the woman beside him was me.

I stared at it, my laughter bitter and sharp. Eight million dollars poured into a bauble meant to appease Stefania. The absurdity struck me like a slap. While I’d been planning a future with him, Lorenzo had already spent, gifting all he could afford to his beloved woman.

Lorenzo didn’t bother coming home after that. Days stretched into nights, and his absence became a constant. I didn’t ask questions, for I stopped caring about answers.

Instead, I turned my focus inward. Quietly, methodically, I submitted my resignation from Corvino's pharmaceutical company—a front for all illegal drugs they produced for underground society.

There were no dramatic goodbyes, just a few lingering hugs and whispered promises to stay in touch. My colleagues—a handful of whom had become friends—didn’t seem surprised.

“We suspected as much,” Liz murmured when we were dining in the company’s cafeteria, sliding her phone across the table toward me. “Look.”

On the screen was Lorenzo’s social media account’s feed, filled with snapshots of him and Stefania. Each post was a punch to the gut. They were at an amusement park, her smile wide as he held her hand. Another showed her modeling wedding dresses, the caption teasing about—The perfect fit 🥰.

The photo that sealed it for me, though, was taken atop Monte Luna. The moon hung low in the sky as they gazed at it together, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. He’d never taken me there, despite knowing how much I’d longed to see it.

“Lorenzo’s not hiding it anymore,” Liz said softly. “He’s parading her around, Aletta. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Liz. I just wonder what he would say to explain once I told him I know about these feeds.” My voice didn’t shake, though my heart was breaking with the insults the two were giving me. “Or maybe, he thought I don’t have friends to show me his feeds. It’s obviously customized, right? Not for me to see.”

“Yeah, I thought so too…” Liz pouted. “And you still wanted to marry him?”

I snickered. Then I shook my head because I couldn't give her a hint for my plan. “Just say you don’t need to worry about my feelings, Liz.”

“Aletta, you don’t deserve him.”

“Enough of Lorenzo…” I smiled at her concern. “Actually, there’s something I need from you. Better than him and Stefania.” I gave her a USB drive. “Can you help me get some files?”

Liz frowned at first but tilted her head next. “Of course! Anything for you, Aletta.”

“Thanks,” I smiled sweetly. “Here's what you need to do for me… Please help me ensure I leave no loose ends behind. Get the transaction’s list of Corvino’s Drugs and Co. All of it.”

****

By the time Lorenzo returned, I had already packed most of my things. I’d boxed up the wedding preparations, stripped the house of decorations, and transformed the once supposed-to-be vibrant home into a sterile shell.

He noticed the change the moment he walked through the door. His brows knitted together as he surveyed the bare walls and empty shelves.

“Why does it feel so... empty in here?” His tone was casual, but his eyes lingered on the other wedding countdown that I taped to the fridge.

“You told me to keep it simple,” I replied, my voice flat. “This is simplicity.”

He nodded absentmindedly and sank into the couch, his attention immediately drawn to his phone. His fingers flew over the screen, undoubtedly messaging Stefania. I resisted the urge to snatch it from his hands.

While he was distracted, I sat at the dining table, my laptop open. The surveillance files I’d collected over the past weeks—videos of Lorenzo and Stefania, their stolen moments and whispered secrets—were transferred onto a sleek USB drive. Each file was another nail in the coffin of my patience.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance up. His gaze landed on the countdown, and he smiled. “In ten days, we’ll be married.”

I stood, tearing three pages from the calendar. “No, Lorenzo. Seven days. Just a week alone.” I didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm in my tone.

His smile faltered as his eyes swept over the scribbled notes on the torn pages.

Ride the Ferris wheel together…

Watch the stars…

Fitting wedding dress…

Wishes we were supposed to share. Wishes he had fulfilled with Stefania.

Something flickered in his expression—regret, confusion—but it passed as quickly as it came. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sharp trill of my phone interrupted him.

It was my mother. I stepped out onto the balcony to take the call, leaving him alone with his thoughts—or Stefania, more likely.

When I returned, Lorenzo was still sitting on the couch, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, coaxing, and I caught snippets of the conversation.

“Of course, Steffi. I’ll be there soon. Don’t cry, okay?” He hung up before I could say anything. “I have to go,” he said, already halfway to the door.

I folded my arms, leaning against the doorway. “Another emergency?”

He hesitated, his hand on the knob. “It’s business. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” My tone was sharp, and for a moment, he froze.

But then he shrugged and walked out, leaving me alone again.

****

The next days blurred together. Lorenzo’s absence became my sanctuary, giving me the space I needed to finalize my plans. I canceled the remaining wedding arrangements, dismantled the illusion of a future I no longer wanted.

Sixth day before the wedding, I found myself standing in the living room, staring at the countdown. Six days left. Six days to let go.

My phone buzzed with a text. I read it.

LORENZO CHEATER: Can you pick out a tie for the wedding? I’m swamped at work.

I stared at the message, my lips curling into a bitter smile. The audacity of him. Without replying, I walked to the closet, grabbed a random tie, and left it on the kitchen counter.

He didn’t come home that night. Or the night after. Four nights to go before the wedding, I knew he wouldn’t bother showing up at all.

And that was fine.

Because all that remained now in me was the final act—a goodbye he would never forget.

Chapter 06

“Who was that? I thought I heard something about a visa,” Lorenzo asked casually, his gaze fixed on his phone, scrolling as always. I don’t know what time he got home last night. And I didn’t care to ask.

“It’s nothing. Just work-related,” I replied, my tone light, dismissive.

His shoulders relaxed, the tension leaving him with a quiet sigh. “Good. I hope you’re not planning some extravagant honeymoon. I don’t have time for that.”

“I know,” I said simply.

Since Stefania had returned to his life, Lorenzo barely had room for anything—or anyone—else. It was obvious, even in the smallest moments. We were sitting side by side on the couch, but the silence between us was palpable. Heavy. Suffocating.

The quiet stretched on until I couldn’t bear it any longer. I stood and went to the bedroom. When I returned, Lorenzo held the crescent moon necklace. “This,” he said. “How did it end up with you? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

“I found it on the road,” I replied. “Only realized it was yours after I saw your lost item post online. I wanna give it to you, anyway. Since you have it, no surprise wedding gift then.”

Lorenzo’s eyes flicked to the necklace, a spark of recognition lighting up his face. “Yeah. Thanks.”

I nodded, feigning indifference. It didn’t escape me that he had spent two million dollars searching for that trinket—because it belonged to Stefania. Meanwhile, the total cost of our wedding barely reached six hundred thousand.

The favoritism was so blatant, it was almost laughable.

“You seem relieved,” I said coolly. “By the way… where’s our wedding rings?” I asked since he said he will show those to me.

That caught him off guard. His hand instinctively went to his pocket, “I… I forgot it.”

I stared at him, silent, unyielding. Something flickered in his expression—uncertainty, discomfort. Lorenzo Corvino, the man who ruled his organization with an iron fist, looked uneasy under my gaze.

He shifted in his seat, opening his mouth as if to explain. But before he could, his phone buzzed. The screen lit up with Stefania’s name.

Without a word, Lorenzo stood. The tension in his shoulders spoke louder than any excuse he could have offered. He took a step toward the door but stopped halfway. Turning back, he leaned down and pressed a fleeting kiss to my forehead.

“Sorry, mia moglie,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft. “I’ve been so caught up lately. You’ve had to handle everything on your own.”

I didn’t respond. I just smiled. Acting dumb again in his eyes.

“I promise,” he continued, a faint smile playing on his lips, “once this busy schedule is over, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

He said the words like a man reciting lines from a script—lines that had worked wonders before. If this had been the past, I might have believed him. I might have clung to those words, hoping against hope that they were true.

But not now. Not anymore.

I watched him walk out, closing the door behind him without a backward glance. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. His sweet words were nothing but sugar coating over a bitter reality that once might have made my heart flutter.

The following day, the last two days before the wedding, dawned gray and overcast. Only two thin pages remained on the calendar in the living room. I tore one page without ceremony, my eyes lingering on today’s wish—Have a reunion dinner together with families.

It was a wish I had clung to for years, a dream born from the fracture of my family. But just as my mother could never forgive my father, I could never forgive Lorenzo.

I didn’t dwell on it. There was no point.

Instead, I applied a light touch of makeup, slipping into a black and red dress I’d always loved. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was enough to remind me of who I was—before Lorenzo, before Stefania, before all of this.

I spent the day alone. I went to the movies, ordering a full couple’s meal for myself. The server gave me a curious look, but I ignored it, savoring the food without a care for how it might appear.

Next, I rode the Ferris wheel. It was something I’d always wanted to do, though Lorenzo had never found the time. As the gondola climbed higher, the city stretched out before me. The sun began its slow descent, casting everything in a golden, almost ethereal light.

At the highest point, I opened the gondola’s window and let the wind rush in. The breeze kissed my face, carrying away the remnants of sadness that clung to me like a second skin. For the first time in years being with Lorenzo, I felt weightless. Free.

I opened my arms and let the moment wash over me.

The memories—the fights, the lies, the betrayals—seemed to drift away with the wind, fading into the horizon as the sun disappeared below it. In their place, there was only peace.

The Ferris wheel slowed to a gentle halt, and I stepped off, still carrying the faint remnants of the breeze that had seemed to cleanse me. As I walked through the park, the colorful lights from nearby attractions painted the ground in shifting patterns. My heels clicked against the pavement, a steady rhythm that matched the calm resolve building in my chest.

“Miss Damsel!”

The voice was soft but unmistakable. I turned to see Matteo standing a few paces away, his tall frame silhouetted against the glowing carnival lights. His eyes were fixed on me, a mixture of concern and something deeper flickering in their depths.

“Matteo,” I said, my tone neutral. “What’s the need to follow me even here?”

He stepped closer, his presence grounding me in a way I couldn’t quite explain. “I could ask you the same thing. Riding a Ferris wheel alone, dressed like you’re going for some date night? That’s quite lonely!”

I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away. “I wanted to be alone.”

“Clearly,” he replied, following. “But you know I can’t just let you wander around without keeping an eye on you, Miss Damsel.”

I stopped walking, faced him. “What you can’t comprehend in what I said?”

“Same question for you, Damsel. What you don’t get when I say ‘I can’t just let you wander without keeping an eye on you,’ huh?’

“What’s your problem?” I annoyingly asked. “Don’t tell me you wanna keep your act playing a loyal dog of Lorenzo when in fact you already suggested something ‘revenge,’ right?”

“Act?” He grinned. “Aren’t we on the same boat?”

Chapter 07

“Matteo…” I hushed his name with my controlled emotion of being irritated. “I know you hate the Corvinos and Volantes, I feel that. Even though I don’t know your reasons at all… still, that’s not my business to dig on. I hope you get what I mean. Do what makes you happy and satisfied and so let me do my business. Alone!”

“I know,” Matteo firmly said as he followed. “I know you’re planning on not marrying him,” he added calmly, which made me stop walking.

Who told Matteo that? It was just Mama that I informed.

“Don’t overthink.” Matteo chuckled, flashing his set of white teeth. “Let me say that I know your plan of escaping for it was the usual thing the scorned woman do when they were cheated by their beloved.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yeah…” He nodded. “And I’m here suggesting some additives plans for I know how complicated that will be for you so… you know, I can’t just stand by and say nothing.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You don’t understand anything about me, Matteo! Whatever I was plotting, it’s not that simple right but I already made sure of its success! So for the nth time. Just fuck off!” I turned and walked away from him. Hoping he won’t follow anymore.

“You deserve better, Damsel!” Matteo said loudly that I puffed out some air irritatedly. “You deserve someone who sees you! Who values you! Not someone who’s too busy with some mistress and disregarding a gem like you…” he whispered his last sentence as I was already in front of him.

And that made me forget what to rebut. The part of me that had been fighting to stay strong for so long wanted to collapse into his arms, to let him take away the weight I’d been carrying. But another part of me, the part that had built walls around my heart to survive, refused to let him in and see my weakness.

“I have to go,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please let me go, Matteo. Alone. I need to be alone.”

He nodded, stepping back. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks.” I turned and walked away, my steps quick and purposeful. But I couldn’t ignore the feeling that I was leaving something important behind. Matteo’s words echoed in my mind, stirring emotions.

When I reached home, the house was as empty as I’d left it. The final page of the calendar stared back at me, a silent reminder of the day to come.

Tomorrow wasn’t just the last day before the wedding. It was the last chance to decide what kind of future I wanted—and whether I was brave enough to take it.

I woke up with another plan in my mind. I wanna spend my last day before the wedding so I will be strolling at the Flora Park and I hope Matteo won’t follow me. I admit that he helped me more with my escape plan with his suggestions when we were in a café two weeks ago but that’s just it. Still, I didn’t tell him what I was really planning.

I looked around the park. The place where I held many memories of mine with Lorenzo when we were teenagers.

I bought my last ice cream of the night, a strawberry cone, and strolled out of the park as the warm lights behind me faded into the distance. I found a bench near the fountain, sitting down to savor the melting treat. Above me, the constellations glimmered like scattered diamonds, their eternal presence a quiet reassurance.

The stars had always been my sanctuary, the only constant in my chaotic world. As a child, during those nights when my father’s rage spilled over and I was sent fleeing into the dark, Lorenzo would find me. He’d take my hand, pull me into the grass, and we’d lie there, watching the heavens until my tears dried.

That version of Lorenzo felt so far away now, a relic of a past that no longer mattered. People came and went, fleeting and unpredictable, but the stars—they never left. No matter where I ended up, the same constellations would shine above me.

I finished the ice cream and stood to leave. The night was quiet, peaceful, until a message pinged on my phone, cutting through the stillness.

STEFANIA BITCH: Dad’s sweet and sour fish is amazing as always! I bet you must’ve never tried it, Aletta.

Curiously, I clicked on the attached video. It opened to a scene of two families seated around a lavish dinner table. Red and gold decorations adorned the walls, double happiness symbols prominently displayed. In the center of it all, Lorenzo and Stefania sat close, laughing and talking animatedly.

My stomach twisted, but not with anger. No, this felt more like bitter amusement.

Was this supposed to hurt me? Stefania’s petty games were laughable at best. I’d endured far worse than her childish attempts to gloat. But what struck me was the irony—whose wedding were they celebrating? Mine? Or hers?

With a calm detachment, I deleted and blocked her number. Then, almost instinctively, I opened my chat with Lorenzo.

The last message I’d sent him was a week ago. I scrolled up, skimming through months of one-sided conversations. I had shared everything with him—plans for our future, updates on mundane parts of my day, even moments when I just needed someone to talk to. His replies, when they came, were short and perfunctory. Most of the time, they weren’t about me at all. They were about Stefania.

And what was the point of reviewing my chat box with Lorenzo? Just checking for the audacity and absurdity?

I set the phone down, ready to leave, when it began to ring. Lorenzo’s name flashed across the screen.

“Where are you?” His voice came through sharp and impatient. “Why aren’t you home yet? It’s late.”

I glanced at the time—8:20 p.m. It wasn’t particularly late by his standards. How many nights had he stayed out until dawn without a word? How many times had I waited for him for the last three months we were living together in the villa that I left the light on, hangover soup ready on the stove?

“I could ask you the same thing, you know. Where have you been, Lorenzo?” I said evenly, “And what’s the matter not seeing me right now? The wedding will be tomorrow yet all of it is for formality, so… there’s no need to stay home, right?”

“Aletta,” he said, his tone softening, but there was still that edge of control, that undercurrent of possession. “You know I’m busy. Okay… I get it. I’m sorry for leaving you and making you arrange everything for the wedding alone. But I haven’t seen you in days, of course, I miss you. That’s why I’m looking for you. And our family has a reunion right now, you must be here.”

I almost laughed. It was so absurd it bordered on comedy. “You miss me?” I asked with my taunting tone. “Really, Lorenzo?”

Chapter 08

“Can you be more reasonable, Aletta?” Lorenzo asked and now his tone is somehow back to being normal of him. Cold. Always cold on me. “Enough with your tantrums.”

My voice tinged with disbelief next. “Hah! Wow…” I snickered then calmed myself. “Okay, Lorenzo…” I shrugged. “Reunion, eh? Then, yeah… I think I must be here. Why was I informed late?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, as if afraid I’d hang up. His tone changed, became lighter, thinking he again won over me. “Tomorrow is our wedding, and they plan to surprise us. But you’re not here and that's sad. I told them that I’ll bring you here. So, tell me where you are, Aletta, I’ll come pick you up.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost convincing. Almost.

I hesitated for a moment before sending him my location. There was no point in arguing. He would find me either way.

Ten minutes later, the low growl of his Urus broke the silence of the quiet street. Lorenzo pulled up beside me, the sleek black car gleaming under the faint glow of the streetlights. He stepped out, his tailored suit impeccable as always, but there was a shadow in his eyes—something restless, something unresolved.

“What?” Lorenzo asked as I wasn’t standing yet even though he already approached me. “You’re still sitting here? It’s our big day tomorrow, Aletta. We will be husband and wife. You already know how busy I am managing the organization and my other businesses, I expect you to—”

“Big day,” I snapped, my voice flat. “Right.”

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Aletta, please. Can we not do this tonight?”

I stood, brushing off my dress. “Do what, Lorenzo? I wasn’t aware we are into something at all. And what was that, anyway?”

His jaw tightened, the flash of frustration unmistakable. “You know what I mean. Look, I’m trying here. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to kill the excitement everyone in our family has for tomorrow.”

“Neither do I,” I said calmly. “But it’s funny how that only seems to matter when you’re the one uncomfortable.”

He took a step closer, his hand reaching for mine. “Aletta, I—”

“Save it,” I interrupted, pulling away. “There’s a reunion that we need to attend, right? Then, let’s just go.”

I opened the front passenger door as usual, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. But something caught my eye—a pink cushion sitting on the seat, a garish pop of color in Lorenzo’s sleek black luxury car.

It wasn’t mine.

My gaze shifted to the spot where a safety charm I’d once begged him to hang used to dangle. It was gone, replaced by a pendant—a moon and stars entwined. The kind of thing a couple would share.

My chest tightened for another insult, but I forced myself to remain calm. Silently, I moved the cushion aside, pretending I hadn’t noticed. That was when I saw it.

A lace strap. Torn. Black. Lingerie.

The metallic taste of betrayal surged in my throat, but I swallowed it back. Calm. Always calm. I grabbed a tissue, wiping my hands as if the fabric had left a stain on me. Without a word, I slipped into the back seat, eager to put distance between myself and the quiet mockery of the pink cushion.

Lorenzo didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on his phone, his fingers flying across the screen.

“So,” he asked casually, not looking up, “what made you go to the park alone? Are you done wrapping up all the wedding stuff?”

“Almost done.” My voice was even, but inside, I felt a thousand fractures deepening.

He smiled, a gesture that had once melted my heart but now felt hollow. “I remember how much you always wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. When I get the chance, I’ll take you out for some fun.”

“It’s fine,” I said, turning my gaze out the window, fastening my seatbelt with deliberate slowness.

To Lorenzo, the wedding was just another transaction, a duty to check off his list. To him, I was something that came with the title of being a ‘good patriarch.’ Something useful for his image.

He finally set his phone aside and started the engine. The soft melody of a song played through the speakers. Stefania’s favorite. Of course.

The city blurred past as I focused on the neon lights that reflected against the Urus’ windows, a stark contrast to the stars above. I thought of the stars often—constant, untouched by human failings. But tonight, even their beauty felt dimmed, obscured by the haze of everything I couldn’t put into words.

When we arrived at Lorenzo’s family’s Elysian Manor, he strode ahead without a backward glance. That was Lorenzo—always walking ahead, never bothering to see if I was following.

Inside, the house was alive with movement. The remnants of a meal sat untouched on the dining table, and the aroma of stale wine lingered in the air. The maids bustled about, clearing plates while laughter echoed from the sitting room. Lorenzo disappeared into the warmth of that laughter, where Stefania’s voice rose above the rest, light and carefree.

I stood in the doorway, feeling like an outsider in a life I was supposed to call my own. Then Gloria, Lorenzo’s mother, noticed me.

“Aletta, come sit with me.” Her voice was soft, her smile warm, as she reached out to take my hand. “You’re such a good girl. So simple, so beautiful, and so dedicated to this family. Women like you are rare these days.”

I nodded, offering the polite smile I’d perfected over the years. A smile that said everything they wanted to hear and nothing of what I truly felt.

Gloria’s gaze flickered toward Stefania, her tone shifting just slightly. “Though, with Lorenzo’s position, he could have found someone more... fitting, I’ve always told him to value what he has.”

Her words sliced through me. Sharp. Precise.

“You’ve been with him all these years without a word of complaint. You deserve more than this,” Gloria added, her eyes lingering on my face as though searching for a crack in my composure. And then the coup de grâce came next. “Aletta, you’re not getting any younger. Why not quit your job and give the Corvino family a strong, healthy child? Stay home, care for your husband, and raise children once you're married—be the dutiful wife and mother for our family.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. Still, I smiled. If I weren’t leaving tomorrow, I would have stood up and shouted everything. And tell them proudly that I already quit my job. I already resigned but not for Lorenzo, and not to carry their family’s heir.

To them, I wasn’t a person. I was a tool—a womb to bear heirs, a pretty ornament to sit quietly by Lorenzo’s side at social events, and remain meek and submissive even if their son kept a mistress in the form of Stefania.

Most of all, for them I was replaceable.

Stefania’s laughter from across the room echoed louder, a sharp reminder of just how replaceable I was.

Chapter 09

I hated the moment. Feeling like an outsider rather than the bride made me feel disgusted.

Before I could excuse myself from Gloria, a delivery interrupted us. A man entered, carrying a garment bag along with several boxes. Dresses. Lorenzo approached, smiling in that way that felt more rehearsed than real.

“Aletta,” he began, his tone light and nonchalant. “I know you’ve been busy, so I had Stefania pick out a wedding dress for you. She has better taste than you, after all.”

His words hit me like a physical blow, but I refused to flinch. Instead, I looked at him, my expression impassive, and said nothing.

Stefania stood then, crossing the room with a smug grin. “I picked a few options,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “You’ll look beautiful in whichever one you choose.”

The room was suddenly suffocating. Every gaze felt like a spotlight, every word like a chain tightening around me.

“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice betraying none of the storm raging inside me. “I’ll look at them later.”

The dress might have been a dagger, but I wasn’t ready to bleed for them. Not tonight.

Tomorrow, they could have their wedding. But they’d never see the bride. Tomorrow, everything will change.

Stefania’s voice rang out as she disturbed everyone as her tone dripped with bright enthusiasm. “Aletta, I’m your bridesmaid!” she excitedly said as if she had no idea from the start. “Can you believe it? Lorenzo said only me would fit as your bridesmaid. Wow! We’ll make such a grand entrance at the wedding, sister! And I promised that everyone will see how stunning our family’s daughters are!”

“Okay,” I only said.

Stefania left me next to try on the dress she will wear tomorrow as bridesmaid. She went out of the room where she changed her dresses as soon as she was ready to show us what she was wearing. She twirled on her heels, her delicate lace mermaid-style dress hugging her figure perfectly, the picture of elegance and poise. The dress looked more bridal than anything meant for a bridesmaid.

Lorenzo smiled indulgently, watching Stefania with an expression of pride. “You look beautiful, Stefania,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze lingering.

Meanwhile, my eyes were fixed on the so-called wedding dress lying on the table before me. The fabric was yellowed, cheap, and reeked of neglect. The large tear across the chest was almost mocking, a blatant reminder of just how little I mattered in this charade.

And Stefania said she picked some dresses for me to choose from… Thank God that I don’t believe any words from her anymore.

Domenico Volante, mine and Stefania’s father, ruffled his favorite daughter’s hair affectionately next. “That’s my girl, always stealing the spotlight,” he said to his spoiled Stefania in his jovial tone.

Stefania beamed, glancing at herself in the mirror. “All that’s missing is a crown, Papa!”

Lorenzo chuckled. “That’s easy. Aletta has one. She’s the big sister here; I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing.” His gaze turned to me then, noting the tattered dress in my hands. “What happened here?” he asked, his tone shifting to faint annoyance.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Stefania beat me to it. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, feigning concern. “That’s awful! But the bridal shop is closed now… Maybe we can find a second-hand dress for Aletta to wear? It’s just for one day, after all. You’ve always said you wanted something simple, right, Aletta?”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. All eyes were on me, waiting for my response.

Lorenzo, ever the diplomat as long as to cover Stefania, added, “Stefania has a point, Aletta. No need to make a fuss over this. She did her part and this is all the bridal shop's mistakes.”

A fuss? I could barely hold back the laugh threatening to escape. With Lorenzo’s resources, a new dress could have been arranged with a single phone call. But no one here believed I was worth the effort.

“It’s fine,” I said finally, forcing a faint smile. “I don’t want to bother anyone. I’ll handle it myself.”

The tension in the room dissipated almost instantly. Lorenzo smiled as if I’d said the magic words to keep his carefully curated world intact.

He handed me a black card, his tone light. “Here. Use this. Whatever makes you happy, Aletta.”

I hesitated, then took the card reluctantly. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

The words felt like a chasm between us, widening the already insurmountable distance. Lorenzo shifted on his feet, uncomfortable, as if sensing the gulf but unwilling to address it.

Stefania broke the silence. “We should take a family photo!” she said, clapping her hands together. “It’s rare for us all to be together. Tomorrow will be so hectic, and we need a proper picture to remember this.”

Lorenzo nodded eagerly, pulling me into the center of the room. Stefania fetched her camera, her bright smile unwavering.

As the shutter clicked, Stefania stepped forward suddenly, brushing against me. My balance wavered, my heel catching on the edge of the rug.

“Aletta!”

Lorenzo’s voice was sharp with alarm, but as I stumbled, Stefania let out a sudden sob.

Tears streamed down her face, her cries piercing the air. “I didn’t mean to! Aletta, I’m so sorry!”

Lorenzo hesitated for just a moment, his instincts warring with his loyalties. Then, as though compelled by some unseen force, he moved toward Stefania, his arms wrapping around her trembling frame.

I crashed into the nearby coat rack, the sharp edge of a hanger grazing my arm. Pain flared, but it was nothing compared to the sting of Lorenzo’s choice.

I straightened slowly, brushing off the sting of humiliation. The room had fallen silent, all eyes now focused on Stefania as she wept in Lorenzo’s embrace.

Mikaela, Stefania’s mother, moved to comfort her daughter too, her hand resting on Stefania’s shoulder. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It was just an accident.”

I swallowed hard, the taste of bitterness of my situation thick on my tongue. My gaze met Lorenzo’s for a fleeting moment, but he quickly looked away, his attention fixed entirely on Stefania. Another set of eyes I met next, Matteo’s. I gulped as I tried to hide the pain in my eyes from Matteo’s scrutinizing gazes.

Matteo was looking at me like he wanted to help me and just waiting for me to give him a go signal. But I won’t like him to be classified by Lorenzo as the one caring for me from his ally’s peeps. I can’t let Matteo be questioned once I will be gone tomorrow.

“Aletta,” Lorenzo said after a moment, his tone placating. “You should be more careful!”

Chapter 10

Why me? I wanna ask why it was me again to blame?

More careful? The words echoed in my head, each syllable a fresh wound. Damn you, Lorenzo!

“Of course,” I said with my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I’ll be more careful, Lorenzo.”

As Stefania’s sobs subsided, Lorenzo guided her to a chair, his hand lingering on hers in a way that made my stomach twist.

I excused myself, retreating to the guest room under the pretense of needing rest. Once the door closed behind me, the facade cracked, and the weight of it all came crashing down.

Tomorrow was supposed to be the culmination of everything I’d dreamed for, but tonight had made it clear: this wasn’t my story. It never had been. I was just a side character here.

Stefania had taken center stage, and Lorenzo… Lorenzo had let her.

I cried my heart out. I poured it all out of me with a promise that this would be the last moment I cry a river for Lorenzo. Enough is enough.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, my phone buzzed. A message from Matteo lit up the screen.

MATTEO: leave it all behind. The Vitale family is ready when you are. Stop making yourself a damsel in distress here.

I frowned. The Vitale family?

The Vitale family is my escape alright, but…

Why does Matteo know my mother’s family? And why did he message me like that?

****

I slipped out of Corvino's Elysian Manor thick with tension inside me. The silence of the night outside was a sharp contrast to the chaos in my mind.

Inside, Stefania had been basking in the glow of Lorenzo’s undivided attention, recalling how her crocodile tears ensured Lorenzo didn’t even glance my way. It was almost impressive, the way she’d mastered the art of manipulation, almost perfect.

Almost. For she didn’t impress me nor manipulated me. Stefania can fool everyone but me.

I walked toward my car, my heels clicking against the cobblestones, each step echoing the resolve building inside me. The USB drive in my clutch was a heavy weight, its contents was like a loaded gun that I could blow tomorrow with some help from Liz.

I grinned. Tomorrow wasn’t going to be a wedding. It was going to be a reckoning.

But first, I needed a drink.

The dim light of a bar caught my eye, its neon sign flickering like a heartbeat. The place was nearly empty, save for a bartender polishing glasses and a man seated at the far end of the counter. I slid onto a stool, nodding at the bartender. “Whiskey. Neat.”

The man at the end of the bar turned his head slightly, his sharp features catching the light.

Matteo. Of course. Of all the gin joints… he found me so easy again.

“Damsel,” he said, his voice smooth and low, like a predator acknowledging its prey. “On the eve of your big day…” He scoffed. “Leaving the fun in the reunion?”

I raised an eyebrow, taking the glass the bartender set in front of me. “You always did have a flair for dramatic approaches, Matteo. Shouldn’t you be out plotting something equally theatrical? You were there. Why not help me earlier to shock the Corvinos and Volantes?”

His lips curved into a smirk as he pushed his glass aside and turned to face me fully. “Maybe I’m only here to save you from making a mistake. But… I need to do it discreetly, right?”

I snorted, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “The mistake was staying with Lorenzo for as long as I did. I know that already. And you know well I was planning to escape so why are they still following me?”

“Your plan?” Matteo’s expression shifted, his gaze sharpening. “Anyway, what exactly is your plan? To reveal everything by walking into your wedding tomorrow and airing every dirty secret you’ve uncovered?” He grinned. “That’s suicide, Damsel.”

I froze, my glass halfway to my lips. “How do you know about that?”

That was not exactly my plan, of course. The plan I had was already arranged for Liz to do the airing of the content on the USB drive. But all of that will happen once I already boarded the jet to Sicily.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “As I said, I know most women do, Damsel. And I know Lorenzo would do to you once you humiliate him.”

“Lorenzo Corvino will kill me… was it the one you will say next?” I looked at him sideways. I made a face. “And I thought you already know that I belong to Vitale's organization.”

“Yep, but we are in a place ruled by the Corvinos and Volantes. Vitales are only ruling Sicily. Your mother can’t do anything here in Milan.”

“Let’s say that was really my plan…” I hummed the words. “And let’s say I changed my mind because of your convincing words…”

Matteo chuckled. And again… I gave it to him. Matteo’s really good looking. In fact, much head turner than Lorenzo.

“So what should you suggest this time for me to do, Signor Santoro?”

“Simply.” Matteo shrugged. “You don’t need to show the world what kind of man Lorenzo is. He’s already made that abundantly clear to everyone who matters.”

I set the glass down, staring into its depths. “But everything is not about him! It’s about me, Matteo… I can’t let them walk away unscathed after what they did to me!”

“And what happens after?” Matteo asked, his tone suddenly serious. “You humiliate him, Stefania cries her way into another pity party, and you… what? Ride off into the sunset?”

I looked at him, my jaw tightening. “I’ll figure it out. And the Vitale family is waiting for me, right?”

“No, you won’t figure it out with your condition right now,” he said bluntly. “But yes with the Vitale family waiting for you in Sicily.”

“And?” I asked because I know he will have some additional remarks on his mind.

“The truth is that you’ll still be tied to Lorenzo, the Corvinos and Volantes, to everything you’re trying to leave behind. What you must do is to cut the cord they had on you completely.”

“And you have a better plan?” I asked, boringly asked because I already planned about that by leaving all behind here in Milan.

Matteo’s smirk returned, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I do. I almost told you that. You just don’t let me explain it to you at first.”

“Yeah, of course you do,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “So, let me guess… it involves you swooping in to clean up the mess and somehow coming out on top?”

“Something like that,” he admitted, his grin widening. “But it also involves giving you the freedom you’ve been chasing. No strings attached.”

Chapter 11

I studied him for a long moment, trying to decipher his true intentions. Matteo Santoro was many things, but altruistic wasn’t one of them. Still, his offer was tempting.

“Fine,” I said finally, leaning back in my chair. “What’s the plan? And I want to hear your reasons, Matteo. You already told me you have your reasons, but what was that? You can’t let me work with you but I'm still clueless about it.”

“I will tell you my reasons later. Just listen to my plan first.” He signaled to the bartender for another drink, taking his time before answering. “First part of the plan, you’re going to disappear. Leave the wedding, the city, all of it behind. Let them think they’ve won. It’ll make their downfall that much sweeter.”

“But that’s already my plan!” I hissed.

Matteo side-glanced at me. Smirk. “Cool, so we go to the next part…”

“And which is?”

“The USB in your possession.”

“The USB?”

“Yep, leave it with me,” Matteo said, his voice casual but his eyes gleaming with purpose. “I’ll make sure it’s put to good use. At the right time. Not tomorrow. Not with anything you think to blow the wedding.”

“And why should I trust you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because I hate Corvinos and Volantes as much as you do. And most of all, I never betray my allies.”

“But you’re Lorenzo Corvino’s ally, right?”

“I said, my allies. Lorenzo wasn’t one of them.”

“But—”

“I lead a bigger mafia organization, Damsel. And Corvino’s mafia was nothing to me.”

“Are you saying you have a double identity here?”

“Not that but at some point, yes.”

“Who are you really?”

“Matteo Santoro’s my real name, Damsel.” He sneered. “But the funny part is, Lorenzo thought I was just working under one of his big mafia allies. He thought of me as being so low, like some soldier or spy only from Emperio.”

“Emperio.” That’s the controlling organization of all. They were the one ensuring the balance in the underground society among the mafia organizations and clans.

I held his gaze, searching for any sign of deception. But Matteo was a master at playing his cards close to his chest. If he had ulterior motives, he wasn’t going to reveal them now.

“And your reasons for hating Corvinos and Volantes?” I asked curiously.

“Luca Corvino and Domenico Volante plotted my family’s demise. They were the mastermind in the massacre of my whole family. I only survived because when it happened, I was already in Emperio. Training there.”

“Oh…”

“Did that amuse you, Damsel?”

“I’m Domenico Volante’s daughter.”

“As if I don’t know. And… I know everything about how he treated you.”

I gulped.

“Are we allies now?”

Finally, I nodded. “Alright. We are.”

His grin widened, and he raised his glass in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

I clinked my glass against his, the faint sound like a spark igniting something deep within me. Tomorrow, I’d walk away from the wreckage of my old life. And maybe yeah… Maybe with Matteo’s help, I’d make sure Lorenzo and Stefania felt every ounce of the pain they’d caused me.

“I will show you something later,” Matteo said after a long silence. “Just heads up, if you’re still in love with Lorenzo head over heels… this will be an ultimatum for you to break down.”

“No worries. I am tough now… Thanks to Lorenzo and Stefania.”

****

And just as Matteo told me earlier. I was still a bit shocked even though I already expected what to feel.

My hands trembled as I flipped through the diary Matteo gave me. He said he found it buried in Lorenzo’s safe. The edges of the pages were worn, like they carried secrets too heavy to keep. And then I saw it—that one line that hit me harder than any punch ever could.

“That was the happiest time of my life.”

I sucked in a breath, my fingers tightening on the spine. The next few entries felt like knives slicing through me, one by one. Lorenzo’s handwriting, bold and deliberate, practically screamed his confessions.

“No matter how much I tried, I could never turn Aletta into Stefania.”

I dropped the diary as if it burned me. My heart raced, the words echoing in my mind like a taunt. Stefania. Always Stefania. Even now, after everything. I glanced at the mirror across the room and saw myself, my hair in the soft waves he always liked. But it wasn’t for me, was it? It was for her.

“I already hinted that it was Stefania he has wanted since then. But the reasons here in the diary why it was me he needed to marry makes me wanna go to him and slap this thing to his face…” I muttered, my voice breaking. My reflection didn’t flinch, didn’t crumble. But inside, I was falling apart. “Damn you, Lorenzo…” I added painfully.

“Cry it out…” Matteo suggested.

I looked at him. I shook my head. “No,” I said seriously. “I’m done with that.” I sighed. “Anyway, thank you for this.”

“I better go,” Matteo said next. “See you tomorrow, Aletta.” He walked away, leaving me alone in my room.

Aletta. First time he said my name. Just my name.

I smiled bitterly. Matteo always called me ‘Damsel’ and sometimes ‘Signora Aletta.’ Some changes on his part, right?

I stumbled to the closet, throwing open the doors. Every designer dress, every pair of heels, every shiny piece of jewelry he had ever given me—all Stefania’s style. Of course, they were. I laughed bitterly, shoving the boxes aside. It was like my life had been one big tribute to her, and I’d been stupid enough to go along with it.

And all I needed was to read a diary to realize it! Fool me!

I thought that some of his gifts were given to me and it all suited Stefania’s taste, but… I sobbed, but I never thought that all of my things were meant for Stefania from Day One. Yeah, all.

The anger came fast and hard, consuming the sadness like fuel to a fire. I grabbed the scissors from my vanity and stood in front of the mirror. My long hair, the one thing I’d always been proud of, the one thing he’d said reminded him of her—gone. Each snip felt like a little victory, the strands falling around me like ashes from the life I was burning to the ground.

When I finished, I stared at the stranger in the mirror. Short hair, wild eyes, and a look that could cut glass.

The clock chimed midnight. My gaze landed on the countdown calendar I brought here in my room, the words I’d scrawled weeks ago mocking me—To wear the most beautiful wedding dress and marry the man I love.

I tore it down, crumpling it in my fist. “What a disgusting wedding!”

I woke up with a plan the next day. Revenge wasn’t going to wait. I slipped into a tailored black suit, tossed the torn calendar into the trash, and grabbed the USB drive I’d spent weeks filling with proof of their lies that were supposed to be in Liz’ hands but will be under Matteo’s care once I left.

Pictures, messages, videos, transactions of Corvino’s companies… All in the USB drive. Enough to ruin Lorenzo and Stefania. The Corvinos and Volantes.

Matteo was waiting for me at the lounge downtown, a drink already in hand. His sharp gray eyes swept over me as I walked in, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“You look different,” he said, raising his glass. “You look gorgeous with your new hair. You’re hot, in fact.”

“Flattery,” I replied, sliding into the seat across from him. I dropped the USB onto the table. “Everything’s on there. Make sure it goes live the moment you decide when to air that. But I hope you give them some insights. When their little show starts, show the footage of them making out in the bridal chamber supposed to be mine. Just an appetizer for what they will have next.”

He picked up the drive, turning it over in his fingers. “You’re sure about that?”

“Let them burn,” I said, my voice cold.

His chuckle was low, approving. “I’ve always admired your fire, Aletta. This is going to make quite the impact.”

“That’s the idea!” I stood, smoothing my jacket. “You’ll handle it?”

“Like clockwork,” he promised.

“Need to go. Ciao!”

“No goodbye kisses?” Matteo teased.

I blew him a kiss. Winked at him and left.

I didn’t need to say more. As I walked out, I felt Matteo’s gaze lingering, but I didn’t care. I had bigger things to handle.

At the airport, the private jet of my mother waited on the tarmac, engines roaring. My phone buzzed as I climbed the stairs, Lorenzo’s name flashing on the screen. I let it ring once, twice, before answering.

“What do you want?”

“Aletta, where are you?!” His voice was frantically hissing at me. “The ceremony is starting! Everyone’s waiting!”

I laughed. “Oh, I’m sure Stefania can play the part just fine,” I stated sharply.

“What are you talking about?!” he snapped. “This is not the day for your—”

“You’ll see,” I said, ending the call before he could respond.

As I settled into my seat, the flight attendant approached, “Signora Aletta…” She's offering champagne.

I accepted, raising the glass in a mock toast to the life I was leaving behind. “To freedom,” I whispered, taking a sip. The bubbly liquid burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat, a fitting contrast to the bitter memories I was escaping.

The jet’s engines roared louder as it taxied down the runway. I stared out the window, watching the city I’d spent so long trying to conquer fade into the distance. My phone buzzed again, but I didn’t bother checking it. Whatever Lorenzo had to say, it didn’t matter anymore.

“Goodbye, Lorenzo,” I murmured, leaning back into the leather seat and muting my phone.