Chapter 3

Giorgio stood at the doorway, still wearing his black coat. The lingering irritation he had been suppressing ever since returning from the Darkcrow Club was evident from the faint frown on his face.

I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I'm leaving this place."

He glanced at the suitcase by my feet and snapped as though he had finally run out of patience. "Bella, all this just because of that kiss tonight? I already told you. It was just a game!"

Just a game. Just childish behavior. Just fooling around.

Over the last seven years, Giorgio had always found countless excuses for Liliana and never held her accountable for anything.

I looked at him and suddenly felt that even arguing was meaningless now.

"It's not because of tonight. It's because I finally realized that my presence is unnecessary in this household." I removed the family signet from my finger and placed it in front of him.

Giorgio's gaze was trained on the signet instantly. It was the same signet he had personally put on my finger the day he became the new Don.

Back then, he had asked me to stand by his side. He had also promised that I would be his only wife.

But afterward, Liliana could push open our bedroom door in the middle of the night and sit on our bed wearing nothing but a nightgown. She could even order the kitchen to remove the dishes I liked and replace them with her favorites.

And Giorgio would always do nothing more than frown and tell me not to argue with her.

I spoke softly. "Do you know what people outside call her? They call her 'the Little Donna.' She looks more like the lady of this house than I do. She seems more like the one who will stand beside you in the future."

Giorgio clenched his jaw with displeasure, his voice turning dangerously low. "I never approved of that title."

I pushed the signet another inch toward him. "But you allowed her to get away with everything she did. If you can't bear to upset her even a tiny bit, then I'll leave. That way, you won't have to be conflicted as to who to side with anymore."

This time, Giorgio didn't refute me immediately. He only stared at the signet in silence for a long time. He stayed mum for so long that I almost thought he had accepted that I would be leaving.

But in the next second, he picked up the signet and held it firmly in his palm.

His voice was low and husky as he said, "Bella, I never thought of letting you leave."

I smiled faintly without saying anything.

Giorgio frowned hard at my response. He hated losing control, and he hated the feeling of anything slipping beyond his grasp.

I had loved him too much previously. I had been too obedient. In fact, I was like a familiar old possession that was bound to him and would never leave. So, he had never imagined that one day, I would stand before him calmly with a suitcase and tell him that I wanted to go.

"I'll make it up to you for tonight," he said.

He reached out and gripped my wrist. His hold wasn't painful, but it allowed no escape.

"Not just the anniversary, but also everything you've suffered before. I'll make it all up to you," Giorgio promised.

"Like how?" I questioned.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he found himself at a loss for words, which was uncharacteristic of him.

After a long pause, he finally spoke in a low voice. "Give me one night."

I had wanted to refuse. But upon seeing the rare tension in his eyes, I slowly released my grip on the suitcase.

It wasn't really forgiveness. I just wanted to see what the man I had loved for seven years could still offer in an attempt to keep me from leaving.

An hour later, the lights in the dining room came back on.

The candles on the long dining table had been replaced with the warm golden ones that I liked. The silverware had been polished spotless. Even the record player was playing the old song from our wedding night.

Giorgio had taken off his coat and stood by the table in only a black dress shirt. It was as though he had deliberately pushed aside every other matter for this occasion.

He pulled out a chair for me, his voice much gentler than usual. "Sit. No one will disturb us tonight."

I sat down and watched as the maids served the dishes one by one. But with each dish that was put onto the table, warmth gradually seeped away from my fingertips.

There was black truffle veal steak, pan-seared langoustines, saffron seafood risotto, and finally a butter cream cake topped with crushed hazelnuts.

Not a single dish was something I liked. Every one of them was food that Liliana had specifically requested whenever she came to the villa.

I stared wordlessly at the food for a long time—long enough that even Giorgio noticed something was wrong.

"Why aren't you eating?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

Instead, I looked up at the maid arranging the dishes nearby and inquired, "Who decided on tonight's menu?"

The maid's face turned pale as she lowered her head cautiously. "Donna Vitoriano, we just prepared the dishes as usual."

As usual.

So, even his attempt to make it up to me had merely followed the habits Liliana had left behind in this villa. It felt like my heart was slowly breaking apart into tiny fragments.

Giorgio followed my gaze, and his expression darkened as well.

But I no longer wanted to wait for his explanation.

I set down my knife and fork and said in a light voice, "Look, Giorgio. Even when you say you were making it up to me, what you prepared wasn't even meant for me."

The moment my words fell, the villa's doorbell rang.