Chapter 5

Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a penthouse in Manhattan. It had been a twelfth birthday gift from my parents.

The moment I pushed open the door, my numb heart finally, belatedly, felt a pang of sorrow.

My father had painted the walls himself. My mother had carefully chosen the Italian leather furniture.

I still remembered that day, my mother leading me around the living room when I was twelve, her eyes full of soft light.

"This is your escape, Isabella. If one day Mom and Dad are gone, no matter what happens, this will be your safe harbor, a place no one can ever take from you."

In this living room, where the last traces of their warmth still lingered, I curled up on the familiar leather sofa and fell into a deep sleep.

For the next few days, I did not let myself think about Lorenzo.

As if taking their cue from my resolve, the comments that used to appear out of nowhere began to fade, their energy draining until they disappeared completely.

The next day, I went shopping with my best friend, Cici, who had just returned to New York. She teased me.

"What's this? Our very own mafia princess hasn't mentioned her precious Don once today?"

But her expression changed when she saw my new phone wallpaper was no longer a picture of me and Lorenzo. She reached out to feel my forehead, muttering.

"You don't have a fever. You've had that same wallpaper for almost ten years. Last time we were on the yacht, your old phone with that picture fell into the Mediterranean, and you jumped in after it without a second thought. What's going on..."

The rest of her words died in her throat when she spotted the engagement photo of Lorenzo and Ava on a massive LED screen on the corner.

Cici's face soured. She looked angry enough to storm the Moretti estate and settle the score with Lorenzo herself.

But I just smiled nonchalantly. "Forget it. I'm getting married too."

That sentence stunned Cici into silence. Her face turned red, then pale, then red again. After a long moment, she choked out, "...That blind fool Moretti. One day he'll be on his knees, regretting this!"

Seeing her so angry she was stomping her feet made me laugh. Cici finally relaxed and looped her arm through mine.

"I heard a new three-star Michelin seafood restaurant just opened by the harbor. Let's go grab a drink."

But as we passed the seaside seafood market, we saw Ava and Lorenzo chatting with an elderly couple, surrounded by a crowd of reporters.

Cici's face turned livid. She grabbed me and turned to leave, muttering curses. "What rotten luck. I've lost my appetite."

I didn't want to deal with them either. But before we could leave, Lorenzo called out to us from behind.

The man's voice was deep and rich, with a hint of surprise. "Isabella? What are you doing here?"

I didn't say anything.

Ava was already walking over with the elderly couple, a beaming smile on her face. The moment she saw me, her smile became especially affectionate.

"Isabella, you're here too! Let me introduce you. These are my foster parents. They were very good to me during the years I was separated from my real parents."

She paused, her eyes shifting to Lorenzo, her voice soft.

"Lorenzo was worried I'd miss them, so he bought this entire seafood market and put them in charge of it."

"I'm so lucky. Just because I casually mentioned I wanted my parents to have a better life, he spent a fortune transferring the exclusive supply contracts for half of Manhattan's Michelin-starred restaurants and five-star hotels to them."

Her tone was gentle, but her eyes were full of triumph and provocation when they met mine.

I wasn't angry. I just nodded calmly. "Congratulations on your new business."

This was clearly not the reaction Ava wanted. Her eyes darted around, and she feigned a casual tone.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Lorenzo said my old place wasn't suitable for my recovery, and my foster parents are staying at the estate with me for a while. It's just... my foster mother suffers from severe claustrophobia. She needs a spacious, south-facing room with plenty of light."

"Your south-facing master bedroom gets the best light. It would be the perfect environment for her recovery."

"Isabella, would you mind giving up your master bedroom for my mom for a little while?"

As she finished, a faint smirk touched her lips. She was waiting for me to explode like I used to.

Cici's eyes were red with anger. She took a step forward. "Who do you think you are!"

I held her back and looked at Ava, my smile gracious and proper. "Of course. You can have it."

My words made Ava's face stiffen, and a strange light flickered in Lorenzo's deep, dark eyes.

Cici was furious, her voice a low, gritted whisper. "She is wiping the floor with you!"

I just smiled and, pulling her along, turned to leave.

But Lorenzo strode after us, his voice, for the first time, tinged with apology.

"It's only temporary. I know you don't like Ava. Your parents left you that property in Manhattan. You can stay there. I'll have someone pack your things from the estate and send them over."

Hearing this, I finally realized. I had moved out of the estate almost a week ago.

And he thought I was still living there?

I almost laughed, the sound sharp with sarcasm. "I moved out of the Moretti estate a long time ago."

But the rest of my sentence was drowned out by Ava's excited cry.

"Lorenzo, it's our turn for the interview!"

Lorenzo immediately walked back to her side. She naturally linked her fingers with his, their posture intimate and seamless.

Only then did I notice the diamond ring on Lorenzo's slender ring finger, a matching one to Ava's.

Was this also part of repaying a debt of gratitude?

I averted my gaze and turned to leave.

It wasn't until I was in Cici's car that Lorenzo remembered to text me: "What did you say earlier?"

I looked down, my fingertips tapping out three words on the screen:

"Nothing."

The little "typing..." icon on his end bounced for a long, long time.

In the end, nothing came through.