Heartbreak to Power: The Don's Chosen

The aloofness in Sofia Bianchi's expression instantly crumbled, and she called out with a choked voice, "Matteo."

"I told Sofia to sit here. She's sensitive to the cold and isn't feeling well. Also, she's used to sitting in this spot," Matteo Romano explained in his usual cold and deep voice.

I stood still and looked at him with a faint, knowing smile. "Oh, I see. You're not feeling well, huh? Then wouldn't sitting on Matteo's lap be even cozier? He could even hold you."

Then, I turned my considerate gaze toward Sofia. "What do you say, Sofia? Go ahead and sit over there. You'll even get to enjoy Matteo's scent more strongly. It's perfect for curing whatever's bothering you."

I kept my eyes fixed on Sofia and completely ignored the seething Matteo beside me.

When he saw my indifferent reaction, Matteo's low voice turned sharp with reproach. "Elena, just what are you trying to do?"

I didn't answer, but I saw Sofia's face flush instantly. With reddened eyes, she pushed the car door open and stepped out, affecting an air of pride.

"Matteo, I appreciate your kindness, but I won't be attending the auction after all. Not everything the crowd hypes turns out to be a dazzling gem. People are like items up for sale—there's no inherent hierarchy of worth.

"What's often missing is just the right opportunity and a discerning eye that recognizes true talent. So, all I have to do is be true to myself."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow—I truly wanted to applaud her performance.

Over the years, I had dealt with countless women who approached Matteo with all sorts of motives. Some were after money, some for gain, some for his looks, and some for fame. I had seen them all.

But I had never come across this type of self-righteous, artificially innocent, and fragile pick-me girl before.

This explained why Matteo had been unable to forget since seeing Sofia dance at the nightclub. He sent her a constant stream of jewelry, trinkets, and flowers, and even planned to send her abroad for further studies.

And on our very anniversary, he insisted on bringing her along.

Matteo immediately followed Sofia out of the car and caught her hand as she tried to leave.

"Sofia, there's a piece at today's auction that you've wanted for a long time. It'd be a shame to miss it. I'll have Elena apologize to you right now."

I watched with an impassive expression as they held hands. The tattoo on the inner side of Matteo's wrist was no longer the same sword that matched mine. Now it was entwined with lilies. In other words, our couple's tattoo had been defaced.

"No, it's okay. I would never ask you to do anything difficult for my sake. Nor would I force myself to swallow this humiliation just because of some empty apology."

Sofia played the role of the cold, dignified, and wounded party to perfection. Looking at her face, I suddenly felt a long-unfamiliar itch in my hands. I held back, again and again, and decided to just get into the car.

But just as I lifted my foot to step into the passenger seat, a vivid and glaring bloodstain on the white leather caught my eye. The back of Sofia's white dress was stained the same color.

Matteo also noticed the soiled dress. "Sofia, wait." He quickly took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her waist. "I'll run to the convenience store. Wait here for me."

The two of them gazed at each other. Sofia then lowered her head shyly and nodded almost imperceptibly.

They looked perfectly in sync.

Finally unable to hold back any longer, I slapped Matteo hard across the face.

The sharp smack brought back the memory of the time I pursued Matteo, who was singing in a bar. To make my point, I had smashed hundreds of bottles of expensive red wine right in front of him.

The moment the wine bottles exploded, every woman who had designs on Matteo was struck silent. And so, all the obstacles in my path were cleared.

"Tell me, how does she plan to compensate me for dirtying the car?"

I hadn't lost my temper in so long that Matteo mistakenly assumed I had mellowed with time.

Matteo quickly tried to salvage the situation. "Sofia didn't do it on purpose. I'll have the car cleaned."

I let out a light, mocking laugh. "You'll have it cleaned? Can you wash away the stench inside? Either buy me a new car or replace the whole interior—the choice is yours."

Sofia stared fixedly at me. At the same time, she didn't forget to put on a teary-eyed performance for Matteo.

"Mrs. Romano, it's not my fault that I'm poor. But insulting me like this? That's entirely on you."

I couldn't help but laugh in exasperation at her manipulative, faux-innocent words.

"Did I insult you? Why don't you take a good sniff inside the car to see if that's your scent all over it? Besides, having principles isn't an excuse to weasel out of responsibility."

At that, Sofia turned to Matteo with tears now streaming down her face.

"Enough!" Matteo snapped, looking at me with visible irritation. "I'll handle the compensation. Sofia is innocent. Don't use your narrow-mindedness to tarnish someone else's goodness."

For a moment, despite the sweltering heat, I felt a chill creep straight into my heart. A wave of powerlessness, unlike anything I had ever known, washed over me.