Chapter 2

"Mamma?" Leone's soft, hesitant voice dragged me back to the present.

He then lifted his head, his eyes brimming with worry while asking, "Why are you crying, Mamma?"

It was only then that I noticed my tears had drenched my clothes. I kneeled before him and pulled his thin frame into a tight embrace. "I'm going to leave Papa and plan to take you with me. Do you want to come with me, Leone?"

Leone's expression froze, his eyes welling up with tears in an instant. "Why? Please don't leave Papa, Mamma. He really loves us—he's just too busy for us right now…"

I felt a sharp stabbing pain after hearing that. It was heartbreaking that a five-year-old had already learned to justify his father's neglect. Dante surely "loved" us—but that love couldn't buy medicine, it couldn't provide warmth, and it was utterly useless when it came to saving a life in a moment of crisis.

I brushed the tears from his cheeks and said, "I'll make a wager with you, Leone—let's see whose door Papa goes to first when he returns. If he goes to Zia Sofia, then that means they're more important to Papa compared to us.

"In that case, you'll leave with me, and I'll find you an even better Papa. If he comes to us first, I'll stay, and I won't divorce Papa."

Leone bit his lip and nodded, his hand gripping the hem of my clothes tightly.

In the evening, a convoy of black cars drove into the estate. Dante stepped out wearing a meticulously tailored black suit. He stood tall with striking features, possessing exactly the kind of allure that could drive women crazy.

"Papa has returned!" Lucia's delighted voice echoed from the next door.

Dante's footsteps faltered for a mere heartbeat, and then, with almost no hesitation, he pivoted and walked directly toward Sofia's side of the estate.

I felt my heart sinking, but I still counted every step Dante took, clinging to a shred of hope, until he reached Sofia's side. I could hear Dante's voice from afar, saying, "I've bought Lucia a dress from Paraxia since she has grown so much. I've also bought you the newest jewelry of the season, Sofia."

Sofia feigned reluctance, saying, "Lucia has more dresses than she knows what to do with, and my vanity is already buried in jewels. You really ought to keep some of these gifts for Elena and Leone instead, Dante."

"It's not necessary since I've already made arrangements for Elena's side," Dante said, his refusal firm and unyielding.

"Papa!" Lucia exclaimed, throwing herself into Dante's embrace.

"You're not allowed to call him that, Lucia!" Sofia advised, her voice tinged with amusement.

"I want to call him Papa! Zio Dante is my Papa!"

"You can call me Papa in private from now on," Dante said with a chuckle; his laughter felt like a jagged blade, tearing through my ears and leaving my heart in shreds.

I lowered my gaze to Leone, noticing that tears were spilling from his eyes, but he remained stubbornly silent, biting his lip until it turned pale. I loathed my past self with a burning passion at that moment. I dropped to my knees and pulled him into a fierce embrace, saying, "I swear I'll find you a better Papa, Leone."

Leone buried his face in the crook of my neck, his tiny frame shaking with suppressed sobs. "I'll leave with you; I don't want this Papa anymore, Mamma."

It was then that the heavy door swung open. Dante's imposing figure filled the entrance, still carrying the chill of the night on his coat. He cocked his brow and asked, clearly only catching the end of Leone's sentence, "What don't you want anymore, Leone?"