Chapter 3

This incident drove a wedge between Federico and me. He kept investigating the cause of the failed deal that day, and although he found no concrete evidence linking me to the leak, he quietly changed the passcode to his study, and he never brought up anything related to the famiglia with me again. There were even times when he no longer took me along as his exclusive plus-one to banquets.

To make matters worse, a rumor had leaked through the grapevine, leading the entire famiglia to believe I was the turncoat. When the Capo walked past me, he'd deliberately bump my shoulder and sneer, "A loyal father actually fathered a traitorous daughter. How ridiculous."

I felt incredibly wronged, but when I turned around, I spotted Federico standing not far off, quietly observing the scene. He merely gazed at me for a couple of seconds before turning around and silently vanishing down the hallway.

Back then, I was far too proud to stomach that kind of humiliation. Consequently, I went straight to his quarters that very night and knocked on his door. But there was no one inside.

The butler, Dante Silvestri, walked over and let out a soft sigh. "Signor Leone has gone to the hospital."

My chest tightened. Terrified that something had happened to him, I didn't even bother putting my coat on properly before rushing out into the night toward the hospital. However, the second I pushed open the door to the hospital room, I froze dead in my tracks.

Federico was sitting at Aria's bedside, blowing on a spoonful of soup to feed her. Noticing me burst in, his brows instantly knit together. "Did you follow me here?"

At that exact moment, my emotional dam broke. I felt as though my heart had been thrown to the ground and violently trampled on.

I cried out that Aria had lured me there that day, that she had only ever used me to get to him. Yet, as he listened to my frantic explanations, Federico cut me off coldly. "Your action only makes me realize that Aria was right about you."

I was caught off guard. "What—"

"You've always been bothered by her presence around me, and you've always harbored hostility toward her."

I parted my lips, and my voice trembled as I forced out, "Federico, I've been by your side for a decade… and you'd rather believe her instead of me?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, but his resolve didn't waver. "She took a bullet for me, and she's lying here in a hospital bed, yet she's still defending you. Meanwhile, the first thing you do when you burst in is accuse her of having an ulterior motive. How do you expect me to believe you?"

As soon as his words fell, everything I wanted to say died in my throat. All of a sudden, I didn't want to explain myself anymore. So, I turned on my heel to leave.

Just then, a chilling, razor-sharp warning cut through the air behind me. "Sera, stop following me, and don't take my past indulgence of you for granted."

I stopped in my tracks, let out a self-deprecating chuckle, and forced back my tears. I didn't let a single one fall until I finally crossed the hospital threshold, and then, the dam broke.

A torrential downpour hit the city that night. It poured relentlessly during my entire journey home, and I let the storm soak me to the bone as many things finally became clear to me.

When I returned home, without even pausing to change out of my drenched clothes, I booted up my laptop and pulled up the university application page. In the past, because I wanted to stay by Federico's side, I chose to stay out of the spotlight and sacrificed countless opportunities. But now, I only wanted to get as far away from him as humanly possible.

As I compiled my past works into a portfolio, I realized that the vast majority of my paintings featured the exact same man—Federico brooding beneath the shade of a tree, Federico lighting a cigarette at the entrance of a church...

An artist's brush, when guided by love, gives a painting its soul, and these pieces earned me my admission ticket to university. I had been accepted into the world's most prestigious art academy, the same one where Dad had graduated from.

I no longer cared about Federico. Instead, I focused on preparing for the upcoming semester and getting ready to leave.

…

Then, out of the blue one day, Federico pushed open my bedroom door. He placed a stack of documents on my desk and casually remarked, "Haven't you always wanted to study painting?"

I froze for a moment before lowering my head to flip through them.

Listed inside was a row of names. The restorers of Valrosa, the mentors of private Merisian studios, and several legendary artists who only ever existed as whispers in the art world. Every single one of them represented a level of connection that, in the past, I wouldn't have dared to dream of.

"Pick one," Frederico ordered calmly as he stood beside me. "Whoever you want, I'll pull the strings to make it happen."

My hands balled into fists, and I remained silent for a long while.

Once upon a time, I would definitely have been so ecstatic that I wouldn't have been able to sleep all night. However, at that moment, I only found it deeply ironic. He seemed to think that by using just a tiny bit of his power, he could effortlessly wipe the slate clean, erasing every ounce of his cruelty, doubt, and hurt.

But the scars were there, and I couldn't forget them. Besides, I was leaving soon.

That art academy wasn't short of talented teachers. Hence, I pushed the documents back across the table to him and said curtly, "No, thank you. I'm not interested."

Federico frowned. Chalking my refusal up to petty resentment, he merely had someone put the documents away. Then, he left without even asking why I had refused.

I smiled wryly, dismissing the whole incident as nothing more than a minor interlude.

Soon after, I received my acceptance letter. Yet, the moment I took it out of the mailbox, it was suddenly snatched from my hand. "Oh? Royal Artificium. As expected of our resident artist."