I Won't Bridge an Impossible Gap

After leaving the party, I went back to the jewelry store where I had bought the ring.

The sales associate recognized me immediately and asked, "Ma'am, is there something wrong with the ring?"

Just an hour earlier, I had walked out of the store with the ring, happiness written all over my face. I had even excitedly told her that Luca and I were getting married the next day.

Now, I was back to return the very same ring. It was in perfect condition—exactly as I had bought it.

"There's nothing wrong with the ring. I just don't need it anymore," I explained.

"Ma'am, since this was a custom-made piece, we can only buy it back at a reduced price," she informed me.

"That's fine." I nodded and handed the ring back.

A few minutes later, the associate processed the refund.

"Ma'am, 50,000 dollars has been refunded to your card."

To give my fiance, Luca Camorra, a proper wedding gift, I had spent the past year living as frugally as possible. After work every day, I took on two part-time jobs just to save a little more.

It had taken everything I had to save 100,000 dollars for that custom-made ring.

And in the blink of an eye, 50,000 dollars was gone—just like five years of my youth.

But there was no point in holding on to an expensive piece of jewelry that no longer meant anything to me. Cutting my losses now was probably the wiser choice.

I was about to tuck the refund receipt into my purse and leave when a sharp burst of laughter rang out behind me.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

It was Giulia Sereni.

"Just like I told you," she said smugly. "She couldn't bear to part with the money. Of course she'd come running back to return it."

Luca and the others from the pre-wedding party had followed me to the jewelry store.

They stood across from me, openly sizing me up with amused, mocking expressions.

Giulia stepped forward and snatched the receipt from my hand. The others immediately crowded around her to get a look.

"An orphan who grew up in the slums can actually come up with 100,000 dollars for a ring?" Chiara Ricci scoffed. "She really went all in."

"You don't get it," Enzo Lombardi said with a click of his tongue. "You have to spend money to make money. Maybe she thinks she'll trade that ring for the key to the Camorra famiglia's vault."

Dante Romano chimed in, "Someone from a background like hers wouldn't have managed to latch onto the Don without a few tricks up her sleeve."

I stood there, my ears ringing with their cruel laughter.

Instinctively, I looked at Luca, and our eyes met.

For a brief moment, I saw something in his gaze—something almost like scrutiny, as though he were examining me and trying to decide whether I was really the person they claimed I was.

And in that instant, my heart went cold.

I looked away immediately.

Giulia slowly circled me, as though I were some object on display. Then she tilted her head and gave me a disdainful smile.

"A cheap gold digger would just ask for money. Don't you agree, Mira?"

She didn't wait for me to answer.

"But someone like you is much smarter. First, you pretend you don't want money, that all you care about is love. Then you spend a little of your own money and make a show of all the sacrifices you're making, so the man starts to feel guilty."

She smiled. "And once he feels guilty? You can get him to give you anything you want."

She let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Unfortunately for you, you ran into me. How could I possibly stand by and let you deceive my friend?"

The group burst into laughter.

"No wonder she hasn't spent a single dollar of the Don's money in five years. She was playing the long game all along and waiting for the Donna's position!" said Enzo.

"She knows the difference between getting one good meal and securing a lifetime of free meals," Chiara mocked.

Their laughter rang in my ears.

I couldn't listen to another word.

I snatched the receipt back from Giulia and turned to leave.

But Luca stepped forward and grabbed my arm. "What are you sulking about now?"

He pulled out his checkbook. Without hesitation, he wrote down an eight-figure amount and shoved the check into my hand.

"I shouldn't have doubted you tonight. And everyone was only looking out for me, so stop holding it against them."

He looked at me as though that settled everything. As though all my hurt could be erased with a few numbers on a check.

"Go buy whatever you want."

The check in my hand was nothing more than a thin piece of paper, yet it felt impossibly heavy. So heavy that I could barely breathe.

We had been together for five years. In all that time, I had never spent a single dollar of Luca's money.

Yet now, he seemed to think money could buy my patience, my forgiveness, even my obedience.

As if everything I had given him over the years could be reduced to a number on a check.

I looked him in the eyes and tore the check in half. "Luca, we're done."

Shock filled his eyes.

But Giulia covered her mouth and laughed.

"Luca, don't let her fool you. This breakup is probably just another one of her tricks."

She patted his shoulder with an air of confidence.

"Think about it. For five years, she hasn't taken a penny from you, and she's agreed to everything you've ever asked of her. Now that she's finally about to become the Donna, why would she suddenly be willing to walk away?"

Her smile widened. "She just wants to scare you into giving her more assets before the wedding."

The others immediately joined in.

"Don Luca, aren't you going to say something?" Matteo Acri teased. "If you don't give her some property now, she won't just threaten to leave you."

Enzo snickered. "Give it a little longer, and she'll probably threaten to kill herself."

Luca's expression gradually hardened. His dark eyes settled on me.

"If there's something you want, just say it. You're about to become the Donna, and this is how you choose to threaten me?"

His voice turned cold. "That's incredibly childish."

I yanked my arm from his grasp.

"I'm not threatening you." My voice was steady. "I mean it. I'm cutting you out of my life completely."

The hand Luca had used to hold me slowly curled into a fist, and a flicker of impatience crossed his face.

"Fine."

His eyes narrowed. "Let's see how long you can keep this up."

I walked out of the store as quickly as I could, never once looking back.

The moment I got into the cab, I pulled out my phone and sent my resignation to my company's HR manager.

Then I opened an encrypted email account I hadn't accessed in years.

Buried deep in my inbox was an old invitation from the Deep-Sea Geological Research Institute.

It was an elite, highly classified research program, completely cut off from the outside world. Once I entered the facility, all communication with the outside world would be cut off.

I had turned them down three times before, always for the same reason—I wanted to stay in the city, wanted to be close to Luca and see him every day.

But this time, there was no hesitation.

Instead, I was the one reaching out to them.

"Hello. I'd like to know if the position is still available."

Their reply came almost instantly.

"Of course. When is the earliest you can leave?"

"Tomorrow," I replied.

I immediately booked a flight for the following night.

That left me with only 24 hours. 24 hours before I disappeared from Luca's life for good.