Chapter 3

By nightfall that same day, I was escorted back to Fog Harbor Estate.

There was no stretch limousine waiting at the gates or butler bowing in greeting.

I was not taken back to the top-floor master bedroom. Instead, the Soldati shoved me into a confinement room. The space was bare, with only a narrow iron window letting in a draft.

"The Don ordered you to reflect in here. Do not disturb the little Principessa."

After that, the man turned and left.

I braced myself against the wall and sank to the floor. The memories I had sealed away came rushing back, sharp with irony.

Two years ago, Lucas had pulled me out of the ruins of St. Laurent. He told me that since the world had no place for me, Fog Harbor Estate would be my sanctuary.

Back then, Lucas would finish handling the gang's blood-soaked business, wash away the stench of gunpowder, and drive across half the city late at night just to buy me a slice of cake I had casually mentioned.

He would tirelessly read bedtime stories to me and accompany me through night after night of brutal morning sickness during my pregnancy.

When he learned that the child I carried was a girl, his affection never wavered.

He personally oversaw the construction of the manor's tower, ensuring it was a luxurious palace for our unborn child with the finest natural light.

I still remembered how Lucas had wrapped his arms around me from behind, his palm resting on my swollen belly, his voice low and gentle.

"Zoe, our daughter will be the most noble Principessa in all of Sicily."

He had kept his word.

He even personally inspected the length of the fibers in the nursery carpet.

Every fragment of that former tenderness had now turned into blades, slicing me apart piece by piece.

I once believed I was his one true love.

In reality, I was nothing more than a shadow filling Serena's absence.

Now Serena wore the season's latest couture, standing under spotlights with his arm hooked through hers, appearing side by side at every public event.

Meanwhile, I had just given birth and was discarded like trash in this dark corner, burdened with the accusation of abusing my own child.

[I did not do it!]

[I would never hurt my daughter!]

I cried as I signed desperately into the empty air, trying to plead my case to gods who were not there.

No salvation came.

I did not know how much time had passed before the heavy iron door opened again.

Lucas walked in against the light. The black Italian suit outlined his tall, rigid frame. The face I once adored was now coated in frost.

"Serena is raising the little Principessa now. You had better put away your filthy thoughts."

I struggled to my feet and tried to reach for the hem of his pants. Before my fingers could touch him, he flicked my hand away in disgust, as if brushing off dust.

[I just want to see my daughter. Please.]

My signing was frantic and pitiful, terrified that even this request would be denied.

"You think you are worthy of seeing the little Principessa?"

[Why am I not worthy? I am her mother! And you? What am I to you?]

Lucas suddenly grabbed my chin, his fingers digging in hard, as if he wanted to crush my bones.

"Then I will make it clear for you. You are nothing more than a toy I picked up to pass the time when I was lonely abroad. The child was an accident!

"If it were not for the fact that you resemble Serena, why would I have spoiled a lowly cripple like you? Luna was only allowed to live because Serena begged for mercy. Do you understand?

"Dare to pull any more tricks, and I will make sure both of you disappear from this world."

The violence surging in his eyes sent my heart plunging into an icy abyss. There was a time when he could not bear to speak a single harsh word to me.

Now, he spoke as though sentencing traitors to death, telling me to die alongside my child.

Serena had not lied.

From beginning to end, I was nothing more than a mute substitute kept alive inside a cage of lies.

Only when I lowered my gaze and stopped resisting did he finally release me.

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his fingers with visible disdain.

"Behave yourself. Do not force me to clean house."