Love Ended All at Once

Five years ago, I defied Dad, gave up my place as the Calderone family's Principessa, and ran away with Stefano Calderone.

I had believed we would love each other for the rest of our lives.

Now, all that remained was a heart gone cold.

Today was our son, Niccolo Calderone's fourth birthday. I made the cake early and sat with him on the living room rug, waiting from sunset until the night grew deep and still.

His eyes shone with anticipation as he kept asking, "Mommy, will Daddy come home and blow out the candles with me?"

I ran my hand over his soft hair. "He will. He just has work to finish. Once he's done, he'll come home and celebrate with you."

Even as I said it, I knew how hollow those words sounded.

I knew Stefano wouldn't come. His time had always belonged to Camilla Bianchi first.

The candles burned down and were replaced. The food was cooled and then reheated.

Niccolo couldn't hold out any longer. Clutching his stuffed toy, he leaned against my shoulder and called for Stefano under his breath until he fell asleep.

I carried him back to his room carefully. My chest felt tight and sore.

Maybe it really was time to leave.

When I lay down, unease churned in my stomach. I had walked away from home without hesitation five years ago and broken Dad's heart in the process. I didn't know whether he would still accept Niccolo and me after everything.

A familiar rose fragrance drifted toward me. In the next instant, Stefano slipped into bed and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"You're awake? It's still early. Lie down a little longer," he said, his tone gentle.

He never knew that on the nights he stayed in Camilla's room, I lay awake until dawn, staring into the dark because sleep wouldn't come.

Niccolo would clutch the crayon drawing of the three of us and hug the only old teddy bear Stefano had ever bought him. He would stand at the floor-to-ceiling window time after time, waiting from daylight into night.

Lately, Stefano had been by Camilla's side almost every day. The rose perfume she favored clung to him so strongly that it made my stomach turn.

I shifted away from him. "Go shower. That smell makes me sick."

He paused and lifted his hem to sniff it, then apologized, "I'm sorry, Alessandra. I should've been more careful. I'll spend more time with you for the next few days. I'll tell Camilla. She'll understand."

I watched him walk into the bathroom, and all I felt was a chill in my heart.

Since when did he need Camilla's approval just to spend time with me?

Anyone who didn't know the truth would probably assume I was his mistress.

A few minutes later, Stefano came out with only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water sliding down his defined torso. He looked almost as handsome as he had five years ago when we first met.

Back then, Dad's enemies had chased me into the mountains. I ran desperately and slipped into a ravine while trying to escape. Just when I thought I was trapped, Stefano appeared out of nowhere, covered in blood, and shielded me behind him.

I crouched beside him to treat his wounds. My face burned when I noticed the strong lines of his shoulders and back.

I tried to look away.

However, he had caught my wrist before I could.

His eyes had burned with intensity. "I saved you. From now on, you're mine."

I pulled myself back to reality. Seeing me stare at him, Stefano let out a low laugh and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Like what you see? Come on. I've already run the bath. Let me help you relax."

He carried me to the edge of the tub, steam curling in the air.

The moment I stepped into the warm water, he followed. His lips brushed along my collarbone, heat building between us.

Just as his body pressed against my leg, a maid's panicked voice rang out from the hallway. "Don Calderone! Something's wrong! Ms. Bianchi fainted. We can't wake her up!"

The warmth in Stefano's eyes disappeared instantly, replaced by alarm. He pulled away so suddenly that I lost my balance and fell backward, my lower back striking the edge of the tub.

A sharp pain shot through me until my entire body trembled. I instinctively curled in on myself as I struggled to steady my breathing.

However, Stefano hadn't noticed.

He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on in a rush, his voice tight with urgency. "When did it happen? Did you call a doctor? Why wasn't I told sooner?"

Only as he stepped onto the rug did he finally glance back and see me gripping the edge of the tub, bent over in pain.

He paused briefly. "Alessandra, I'm going to check on Camilla first. She's alone and doesn't have anyone to rely on. I'll be back soon. We can finish this later."

There was no question about whether I was hurt, and no sign of concern in his voice. He spoke as though he were simply informing me of a change in plans.

He never asked for my permission to stay by Camilla's side, and he never considered how I felt about it. All he needed was for me to stay where I was and keep waiting.

I bit down hard on my lip to swallow the pain rising in my throat, then looked up and forced a faint smile.

That small reassurance was enough for Stefano as he turned and left without another glance.

I remained in the warm bathwater, the pain in my lower back growing sharper by the second. A chill welled up from my heart, sweeping up in waves until it stole the air from my lungs.

I braced myself against the cool edge of the tub and eased myself out.

It was time to call home.

It was also time for Niccolo and me to start planning how to leave Stefano, who had long since outgrown his love for me.