Chapter--4

[Lena’s POV — Mancini Mansion]

The moment I stepped inside the Mancini mansion…the same scene greeted me. Rows of servants stood in the grand entrance hall, perfectly lined up as if rehearsed.

Heads slightly lowered, hands folded politely in front of them, “Welcome… Ms. Lena.”

My eyes paused slightly at the words.

Ms. Lena.

Not Mrs. Mancini.

Just Ms.

A small detail, but one that said everything. I had learned that lesson in another life, back when I was still foolish enough to believe I could earn a place here.

I still remembered the day clearly.

“Please address me properly,” I had said back then. “It’s Mrs. Lena Mancini.”

The way they looked at me that day…cold, displeased and almost offended. Their eyes had silently asked the same question.

'How dare she call herself our elder master’s wife?'

Just remembering it now made a quiet sigh slip from my lips, how naive I had been. This time…I didn’t bother correcting them.

Instead, I simply looked at them calmly and said, “Please lead me to my room, I am tired.”

For a brief moment, the servants exchanged subtle glances, confusion flickered across a few of their faces, they must have been expecting anger.

Or embarrassment, or at least some form of protest, but honestly…I was too tired to care. I had lived this moment too many times.

One of the maids stepped forward, “This way, miss.”

I nodded once and followed her. The marble floors echoed softly under our footsteps as we walked deeper into the mansion, every corner of this place felt familiar.

Painfully familiar.

I already knew what I was about to see before we even reached the door, and sure enough—A deep voice suddenly echoed from inside the room.

“Move all her belongings somewhere else.”

Salvatore.

Even without seeing him, I could recognize that voice instantly, cold, sharp and filled with irritation.

“How dare you put her things in my room. This is my room,” he continued harshly. “Not that girl’s.”

I stopped walking, standing quietly at the entrance. Inside the room, several maids were already carrying suitcases out.

My suitcases.

The ones that had been placed there earlier.

Salvatore Mancini stood near the large window, his back half-turned as he spoke with obvious frustration, his expression was dark. Annoyed, as if the mere thought of sharing a room with me was unacceptable.

The maid beside me glanced at my face, a faint smirk appeared on her lips. She clearly expected some kind of reaction, but I only watched silently.

When the maids inside noticed me standing at the doorway, they froze, their movements slowed. The sudden silence made Salvatore notice something was wrong.

He turned, his blue eyes immediately locked onto mine, and just like always—Disgust flashed across his face, his jaw tightened, his fists clenched slightly at his sides.

As if he was physically restraining himself, my own expression didn’t change.

Cold.

Empty.

Tired.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then I shifted my gaze away from him and looked at the maids instead.

“Could you show me my new room?”

The question was simple and calm. As if nothing unusual had happened. Salvatore’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly, that wasn’t the reaction he expected.

But I had already turned away, without waiting for his answer, without even glancing back. The maid hesitated before quickly nodding.

“This way… miss.”

We walked through another hallway, then up a staircase toward the upper floor, the upper wing of the mansion was quieter.

Less luxurious, mostly used for guest rooms. At the far end of the corridor, the maid opened a door.

“This will be your room.”

Inside was a simple guest bedroom, large enough and comfortable enough, but clearly not meant for the lady of the house.

The maids placed my suitcases inside, “If you need anything, please inform us, miss.”

I glanced at them briefly and nodded. “Alright."

They left one by one, the door clicked shut behind them. For the first time since arriving…the room finally fell silent.

A long breath escaped my chest.

“Finally…” I rubbed my temple lightly. “…some peace.”

I walked toward the door to close it properly, but the moment I pulled it open—I froze.

Salvatore Mancini was standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Watching me.

His sharp eyes studied my face carefully, then he spoke slowly.

“…Looks like you anticipated all this.” His tone was suspicious, as if something about my behavior bothered him.

I looked at him calmly, “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

For a brief second...something twitched in his expression, then suddenly...he stepped forward, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

Hard.

“You—” His voice dropped low and dangerous, the hatred in his eyes was impossible to miss. “You shouldn’t misunderstand your situation.”

He pulled me slightly closer, his grip tightened.

“I, or anyone else in this mansion…” His words were slow and cold. “…do not welcome you.”

His blue eyes burned with open hostility.

“Not now, not tomorrow, and certainly not ever.” Then he leaned closer, his voice turning even colder. “So you’d better learn your place here.”

The room fell silent, only the sound of our breathing remained. His grip was tight, demanding and expecting a reaction.

Anger.

Fear.

Anything.

But when I finally spoke...my voice was quiet and tired, “…I know. You don't have to remind me Mr. Mancini, I ....very well know my place.”

And for the first time...slvatore Mancini looked genuinely unsettled. For the first time....salvatore Mancini looked genuinely unsettled.

His brows slowly drew together.

“…What?”

The single word left his mouth like he hadn’t heard me correctly.

I tilted my head slightly, meeting his sharp gaze with quiet confusion.

“What?” I repeated calmly. “Isn’t this what you wanted to hear, Mr. Mancini?”

His eyes darkened, slowly, I pulled my wrist out of his grip, this time he didn’t stop me.

“I know you were forced to marry me,” I continued quietly. “And I know you hate me, to the core.”

The silence between us thickened.

“So you can rest assured,” I added softly. “I’ll live quietly. Exactly the way you want.”

For a moment, neither of us moved, then Salvatore suddenly turned his face away, his jaw clenched tightly.

“You’d better remember what you just said,” he muttered coldly. His voice was lower now, almost dangerous.

“Because if I ever find you crawling back… begging for my attention…I don’t know what I might do.”

I looked at him again, and this time....a faint smile appeared on my lips.

Soft.

Polite.

But my eyes remained completely cold.

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t bother you ever.”

The words came out easily, without hesitation, without emotion. For a moment...Salvatore simply stared at me. As if trying to understand something that didn’t make sense.

Then suddenly—THUD!!!

The door slammed violently, the entire frame shook from the force. For a second, it honestly felt like the door might break off its hinges.

I blinked slowly, staring at the closed door.

“…What’s wrong with him?”

A quiet sigh escaped my lips. Then I reached up and removed the heavy veil from my head. The pins slipped free from my hair one by one.

Next came the heels.

I kicked them off carelessly and let them fall onto the carpet, finally—I walked to the bed and collapsed onto it.

The soft mattress sank beneath my weight, for the first time that entire day…my body finally relaxed. I stared blankly at the ceiling above me.

“I…” A tired breath slipped from my chest. “…really am tired.”

And before I even realized it...my eyes slowly closed.

The room fell silent, and just like that...my first night in the Mancini mansion ended.