Chapter 3

The underground cellar was cold and damp. Already weakened from my injury, I knelt for less than three hours before my vision went black and I passed out.

Sometime in the night, a fever took hold.

In my delirium, I was ten again. After my parents' deaths, the same mafia elders who once fawned over my family now treated me like a problem to be passed around, pushing me away, yet none were willing to let go of the legitimate businesses my parents had left behind.

Until a twenty-three-year-old Lorenzo strode into the funeral.

He looked every bit the cold-hearted demon, yet he bent down to wipe the tears from my face, his voice impossibly gentle.

"Principessa, don't be afraid. From now on, I'll kill anyone who dares to touch you. I will always be here to protect you."

"Liar..."

Tears streamed from my closed eyes as I murmured, my cheeks burning. "You don't protect me anymore."

Outside the door, a hand that had reached out to wipe away my tears froze mid-air.

After a long, long time, the person sighed softly and turned to leave.

When I opened my eyes again, it was two days later.

The wound on my waist had been re-stitched. I was in a clean silk nightgown, and my hair was dry, smelling faintly of the cedar shower gel Lorenzo always used.

In the empty space before me, the comments began to flicker again.

[The Don has been going crazy these last two days! He pointed a gun at the doctor's head, demanding he use the best surgical techniques, then stayed by your bedside, personally sponging you down to lower your fever!]

[The moment he lifted the gauze and saw your wound, his eyes went red… Sigh, are you really not going to forgive him?]

[This is too good! The second he heard you were awake, he canceled a huge negotiation over the East Coast shipping lanes!]

The crunch of tires on the gravel driveway sounded from downstairs.

My heart trembled, and I almost instinctively got up and went downstairs.

As I descended the stairs, holding the handrail, the main door of the estate was pushed open.

I managed a weak smile and went to greet him. "You're back, Uncle."

The next second, I met his dark, somber eyes. A chill ran down my spine, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

Lorenzo gave me no room to retreat. He closed the distance in a single stride and gripped my arm. "Isabella, look what you've done."

I was stunned.

"You bribed a professor to accuse Ava of plagiarism, which got her disciplined. In her distress, she crashed her car. And you have the nerve to stand there?!"

My face paled, and I shook my head. "It wasn't me…"

Lorenzo sneered, as if he had anticipated my denial.

"Still arguing? The professor identified you himself. He said you used Moretti funds to threaten him. In all of New York, who else hates Ava enough to be this consumed by jealousy? If it wasn't you, who was it? Do you expect me to believe Ava reported herself for a thesis she spent half a year writing?"

The accusation struck me like a physical blow.

But this wasn't the first time he had blamed me for something without a second thought.

The fire smoldering in my chest finally ignited.

I lifted my chin defiantly and met his gaze, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Lorenzo, you underestimate me. If I had done it, I would have had her stuffed in an oil drum and dumped in the Hudson River the first day she became a problem."

"I said I didn't do it, and I didn't do it."

My fingertips trembled with rage, my nails digging into my palms so hard they drew blood.

Lorenzo stared at me suspiciously for a few seconds. Before he could speak, his phone rang.

It was a voice message from Ava, her voice as weak as an injured kitten.

"Lorenzo, don't blame Isabella. She just loves you too much and feels insecure… It's all my fault. If I had just listened to her and left you, she wouldn't have resorted to such extreme measures. It's just a fractured leg. I'll be fine after a few months of rest..."

She played the part of a helpless victim, each word a deliberate barb.

Lorenzo's face darkened, his voice turning to ice.

"She's been hurt by you time and time again, yet she still speaks up for you. And you, you never reflect, never apologize. Isabella, I am so disappointed in you."

"Since you enjoy destroying what others care about, I'll let you have a taste of that loss yourself."

He nodded to the bodyguards behind him. They understood and went straight for my bedroom.

My heart sank, inch by inch, as a bodyguard came downstairs carrying a leather hardshell case.

I was completely stunned.

"Burn it."

His command was a single, cold word.

It was not loud, but it shattered my heart.