Chapter 3

I had no intention of telling Vito that I was leaving.

After all, he had never cared about my affairs anyway.

The rich aroma of food woke me from my sleep.

When I walked out of the bedroom, Vito was busy in the open kitchen, with a custom-made silver insulated food container sitting on the counter.

The moment he saw me, he froze for a second before explaining, “Mia wants to eat something I cooked. Don’t touch it.”

I nodded without saying a word and turned into the bathroom.

Vito had never cooked for me even once.

On the few occasions he had cooked in the past, I had naively assumed the food was meant for me.

I would secretly sneak a taste and sincerely praise his cooking.

What I got in return was a deep frown and a harsh scolding.

“If you’re hungry, can’t you make something yourself? I made this for Mia!”

“She has a thing about cleanliness. If you touch something, she won’t touch it afterward. What am I supposed to do now?!”

A thing about cleanliness?

Someone that obsessed with cleanliness could still cling to another woman’s man and refuse to let go?

Looking at my pale face in the mirror, I gave a helpless tug at the corner of my lips and began washing up.

When I came out, Vito was carrying several bags and getting ready to leave.

Seeing me, he lifted his chin toward the table.

“I left some for you. Eat.”

I raised an eyebrow.

This was the first time he had ever voluntarily let me eat something he had cooked.

But when I looked over, all that remained on the plate were scraps and little bits that hadn’t fit into the insulated container.

I had absolutely no appetite.

I sat down on the sofa and prepared to order some food, but Vito remained standing by the door, staring at me.

“I spent all that time cooking. You’re not even going to take a bite?”

I shook my head without answering.

Vito took a deep breath, his voice turning cold.

“Fine. Throw your tantrum if you want. I don’t have time to baby you!”

“I’ve spoiled you rotten.”

Before he could say anything else, he slammed the door behind him and left.

The impact made the entire house tremble as the door struck the frame.

I shrugged, too lazy to bother with him.

By nightfall, I had cleared away every trace of myself from the estate.

After throwing bag after bag into the recycling bins downstairs, the weight that had been pressing against my heart for years seemed to lift with them.

Just as I was about to head back inside, I saw Vito’s car approaching from a distance.

He didn’t notice me.

After getting out, he leaned against the car door and lit a cigarette, holding his communicator as he spoke to Mia.

“Don’t worry. I won’t touch her.”

“Yeah. I’ll cook for you again tomorrow, okay?”

The sweetness in his voice made my skin crawl.

I quickly entered the house after punching in the security code.

Half an hour later, when Vito returned, his footsteps stopped in the entryway.

He looked around in surprise.

“Who let you smoke?”

I was standing on the terrace, lighting my second cigarette.

Hearing the noise, I turned around and saw his furious face.

“Didn’t I tell you that women look cheap when they smoke? Do you just ignore everything I say?”

Seeing him so worked up, I couldn’t help curling my lips into a faint smile.

“What about when Mia smokes? Why don’t you say anything then?”

He froze.

After a moment, he forced out an explanation.

“She’s sick. She’s under a lot of psychological pressure. Having a couple of cigarettes to relieve stress is perfectly normal. Why are you comparing yourself to her?”

I gave him a淡 glance and turned my face away without saying another word.

I had suffered from depression myself.

I could tell at a glance whether someone was genuinely trapped by their illness.

I had warned Vito a long time ago that there was far more to Mia’s condition than he realized.

But back then, he had flown into a rage.

He called me malicious and sick in the head, insisting that Mia would never use something like that to deceive him.

Now, I couldn’t be bothered to say another word.

Vito strode over, snatched the cigarette from between my fingers, crushed it out, and dragged me back into the living room.

But halfway there, he suddenly stopped.

He suspiciously scanned the room.

“You cleaned up the house? Why does it feel like so many things are missing?”