For His True Love, He Lost His Throne

"Bianca Valenti."

Matteo Rossini frowned. His voice was laced with a warning edge.

When I ignored him, the room fell into an awkward silence. Guests exchanged awkward glances and seemed unsure what to do.

Just then, Isabella Ginevra let out a soft laugh.

"Look at how our mindless joking actually got to our Donna."

She raised her glass toward me and gave a slight bow. "I apologize on their behalf, Donna. Your wedding to Don Rossini was the talk of the town. We've all seen how much he treasures you."

Matteo nodded along. "You're taking this too seriously, Bianca."

His words felt like a needle driving straight into my heart. My expression hardened as I looked straight into his eyes. "I'm being completely serious, Matteo."

He sighed, then glanced at his watch. "Let's end the party here for today."

The guests exchanged glances as they reluctantly filed out, their glances suggesting that I had spoiled the party.

Isabella was the last to leave. She pulled a file from her bag and handed it to Matteo.

"This is everything I gathered on the Castelli Famiglia's arms business. It took quite a bit of effort to get my hands on this."

Matteo's expression softened, and he gave her a smile. "Thanks. I'll have Fabio send you some jewelry later."

"I don't need that," she abruptly cut him off before reaching up to pat him lightly on the shoulder.

Then, she laughed. "You know what I want."

The blatant intimacy made me sway and knock over a wine glass. Only then did the crash seem to snap Matteo awake and bid Isabella a short goodbye.

Soon, the room was empty except for the two of us.

He glanced at my wine-stained dress and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.

The man everyone had just admired as the Don now knelt before me and gently wiped the hem of my dress.

"This is your favorite dress, isn't it? Why'd you let it get stained?"

His voice was calm and gentle, but it made my nose sting.

I brushed his hand away and turned toward the bedroom. But before I could take more than a few steps forward, he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms.

His warm breath brushed my neck as he held me tightly, as if for fear that I would escape.

"Behave, Bianca. Stop making a scene."

He pressed me against the table, murmuring "I love you" over and over into my ear.

It was the scene I once fantasized about—him reaching the pinnacle of power and declaring his love for me at the highest point of his glory. But why… couldn't I smile?

That night, he claimed me again and again, and I cried every single time. My body throbbed with pain, and my heart felt like it was shredded by the memories of everything that had happened at the party.

After it ended, he stepped onto the balcony and lit a cigar. I thought I heard a low chuckle.

"Yeah, she's calmed down.

"You know her. She's always been sensible."

I slowly opened my eyes and tightened my grip on the bedsheet.

"Tomorrow, I'm taking her to the ski resort for a vacation. I'll send a car to pick you up then.

"I still need to talk to you about the Castelli Famiglia. You know how much of a handful they are."

The call didn't last long. When Matteo came back in, he leaned down and kissed my forehead, just like he always did.

I kept my eyes closed and felt the kiss, but the thorn in my heart only dug deeper.