Chapter 2

Paolo and I went way back.

My parents died in a fire—trying to save top-level documents, the kind that actually mattered to the country. The whole Aragona line? Gone in one night.

I was the only one kept hidden—and the only one who survived.

From a powerful legacy to a girl with nothing but a name. Suddenly, everyone wanted to "take me in." So kind, so generous—please. They were just hoping to slap my name onto their family tree for some clout.

All of them had that same greedy glint in their eyes.

Except Paolo.

Back then, he was this chubby little ball of sunshine, running up like an overexcited puppy.

"Grandpa, can we adopt Aurora?" he blurted, then turned to me all serious. "I can take care of you. Come live with us. I'll be your servant—forever!"

I actually laughed. First time I'd ever heard someone volunteer to serve the person they were adopting.

After dealing with scheming adults and bratty kids, the Riccis felt like the least awful option.

So I picked them.

Paolo kept his word. For a while my opinion meant everything to him. He was loyal, clueless, following me like I'd dropped breadcrumbs.

So when Grandpa Domenico was dying, he asked me to marry Paolo. Said Paolo was too soft to handle the Ricci fortune alone and begged me to stick around for three more years—for old times' sake.

I didn't even hesitate.

What I didn't see coming? Paolo flipping the script the very next day.

He became a walking public-relations disaster—dating anyone with a pulse and parading them like trophies right in front of me. Introductions like, 'This is Aurora, my sister.'

At first I figured he was just freaking out about the marriage thing. I tried to talk it through, even told him we didn't have to wed—we could just keep it like siblings.

But he was set on tying the knot.

Took me a while to realize the truth: the guy was just reckless.

Fast forward: he started tossing divorce threats like candy.

Lucky for me I'd already repaid every debt to the Riccis. I had absolutely zero reason to stay.

***

The moaning stopped.

Paolo barreled in, face all toddler-tantrum. "Aurora Aragona! What'd you say to my mom? Why's she calling, asking if I upset you?"

"Got a problem? Say it to me. Quit running to my parents—what's your deal?" He flailed. "You've always been like this! Still are!"

I looked away, cool. "Try putting on some clothes first. You're grossing out my eyeballs."

Silence.

Then he stomped like a five-year-old. "You're always like this! Acting like you're my older sister, not my wife! Can't you smile at me—just once? Say you love me?!"

I stared.

Wasn't marrying him enough proof?

Of course Zoe had to show up. She slid in by the door, sugar-coated and perfect-victim. "Aurora, I know you were close with Paolo's grandpa, but you can't keep using that to act out. Paolo's a good man—you just don't appreciate him."

"In high society, who doesn't have a few mistresses?" she added, all innocent. "Paolo's already good to you—stop making things harder."

Paolo jumped right on that.

"See? Listen to her! I'm good to you! I'm not the problem! Zoe grew up with us too—why can't you be more like her? What are you, a child? We fight and you go crying to my mom so she'll yell at me!"

Backed by Zoe's nodding, he puffed up and kept shouting.

I stood.

He froze. That old fear hit him hard, and he shrank back like a scolded kid.

I let out a smirk. "I wasn't tattling. I wasn't negotiating. I was INFORMING."

You could see it in his twitch—then the switch to venom. "Informing? Please. You're just some orphan we took in. What right do you have to 'inform' my family about anything?

"If Grandpa hadn't taken pity on you, you'd be nothing! You should be begging for my love! Acting all high and mighty—seriously?

"If he hadn't forced me to marry you, I'd rather die than be stuck with you."

He got louder, marched to the bed, and flung a divorce agreement at me. "Our three years are up. I want a divorce!"

I didn't blink.

The divorce was already done. That paper? Trash. Him? Not after closure—he wanted the show.

I wasn't playing.

I was so done with this middle school "you love me, I don't love you" circus.