Chapter 3

According to Leone's previous orders, I and the other rejected women had to remain at the Donovitch estate, waiting to attend his wedding with Anastasia.

I knew this was a public humiliation, a reminder that I was rejected merchandise.

A few days later, Leone and Anastasia's engagement party was held at the luxurious Donovitch estate.

Core members of the New York underworld were all dressed to the nines, the air thick with the smell of expensive cigars and perfume.

Leone and Anastasia were the undeniable stars of the evening. He had his arm around her waist, receiving congratulations from family members and associates.

Anastasia wore an exquisite gown with a sweet smile, but her eyes kept glancing in my direction with undisguised triumph.

I chose a corner spot, wanting only to quietly endure this night. But Anastasia clearly had no intention of letting me off easy. She carried a glass of champagne and, along with a few other ladies from other families, sashayed over to where I stood.

"Oh, look who we have here?" Anastasia's voice was sickeningly sweet. "Our Elena Volkov, who almost became the future Madre of the Donovitch family. Sitting all alone here, don't you feel lonely?"

I looked up at her, expressionless.

One of her retorted with a sneer: "Anna, don't say that. Maybe she's still upset about the roulette results. After all, some people thought they had it in the bag."

Anastasia put on a magnanimous smile: "Now, now, the roulette was God's will. Leone and I are fate's design." She looked at me with false pity. "Elena, I know it's hard to accept. But throwing a fit won't change anything, it'll only embarrass you more. Leone's heart has always been with me."

Instead, I spoke calmly: "Anastasia, I wish you and Leone eternal happiness. I have no desire to come between you, please believe me."

My apparent calm seemed to enrage her. Anastasia's smile froze for a second before turning into a hurt expression: "I was just trying to be concerned..."

Seeing her wounded expression, those who wanted to curry favor with her gathered around to comfort her, some even throwing insults my way.

I just wanted this drama to end and remained silent.

Midway through the evening, the music in the ballroom grew soft as the first dance began. Leone was dancing with Anastasia, but his gaze occasionally drifted to my corner.

Suddenly, Anastasia let out a gasp. The music stopped abruptly.

"My necklace! The diamond necklace Leone gave me is gone!" She clutched her now-empty neck, her face turning pale as tears immediately welled in her eyes.

The entire hall fell silent. All eyes focused on her.

Leone immediately embraced her, asking in a low voice: "What's wrong, Anna? Don't panic, tell me slowly."

"It was here just now... right after I came over to talk with those ladies..." she sobbed, her eyes drifting in my direction. "I went to the restroom, and when I came back, it was gone... It was our love token..."

Leone's expression darkened instantly. He swept his gaze around the room, eyes like a hawk's. "Lock down the hall! No one leaves!"

Soldatos immediately moved to block all exits. The atmosphere grew tense and suffocating.

"Where did you last see the necklace?" Leone asked, his voice low but carrying unquestionable authority.

Anastasia timidly pointed in the direction of my corner: "It was... it was after I spoke with Elena over there..."

In an instant, I became the center of attention in the entire banquet.

Leone strode over to me. "You." He stared at me, his eyes icy. "Have you seen Anna's necklace?"

"No." I met his gaze.

"Search her." he commanded without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I stood my ground, looking directly at Leone.

"I said, search her." Leone repeated, his tone more dangerous.

"On what grounds?" I asked, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. "Because of her vague accusation?"

"Because I'm Leone Donovitch, and this is my territory." he leaned in, whispering in my ear, his voice for me alone. "Or perhaps you're guilty as charged?"

Anastasia came over, taking Leone's arm with tear-filled eyes: "Leone, let it go... maybe I just misremembered, or it fell somewhere else... don't do this to Elena just because of me..."

"No." Leone was resolute. "Stealing family property, especially an heir's gift, is a challenge to the Donovitch family. This must be investigated." He looked back at me. "Either you strip, or I have my men do it for you."

Wave after wave of humiliation washed over me. To be forced to strip in public to prove my innocence?

I looked at Leone. There was not a shred of trust in his eyes, only disgust and certainty.

The tender way he looked at Anastasia versus the cold treatment I was receiving created a cruel contrast.

"I didn't steal anything." I said, enunciating each word.

"Prove it." he said without feeling.

I knew resistance would only lead to harsher treatment.

Under the gazes of the crowd—some sympathetic, some mocking, some indifferent—I stiffly began to remove my evening gown's outer layer, then my shoes.

I was left in only my slip. The cold air against my skin sent shivers through me. I bit my lip tightly, not allowing any sign of weakness.

"Satisfied?" I asked, looking at him with empty eyes.

Leone frowned deeper, as if my compliance and indifference caught him off guard, even displeased him. He signaled a maid to search through the clothes I'd removed.

The maid carefully checked the pockets of the jacket and skirt before shaking her head: "Young Master Leone, nothing."

Anastasia suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the inside of my slip's waistband: "There... is that something shining over there..."

All eyes focused on that spot.

The maid felt inside the waistband of my slip and actually pulled out a sparkling diamond necklace!

A wave of gasps swept through the hall.

"Really on her!"

"Oh my god, she actually stole it!"

"Eastern European trash, as expected with their dirty hands..."

The whispers stung like poison darts.

Anastasia covered her mouth with a hand, looking at me in pretended disbelief, but a triumphant glint flashed in her eyes.

"Elena... why... why would you do such a thing? If you like it, I could ask Leone to get you something else..."

Leone looked at the recovered necklace, then at me, the last trace of doubt in his eyes gone, replaced by utter disdain and anger.

He snatched the necklace and personally fastened it around Anastasia's neck.

"Now, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked, his voice as cold as ice.

I knew any explanation would be futile. He had always believed Anastasia, and always would.

"According to family rules, what's the punishment for stealing important property from an heir?" Leone asked his assistant beside him.

The assistant bowed: "Fifty lashes, Young Master Leone. To be carried out publicly in the courtyard as a warning to others."

Leone's gaze swept over my pale face, without a hint of wavering. "Carry it out."

I was dragged to the cold courtyard by two large Soldatos. A rough stone pillar served as the whipping post. They bound my wrists to it.

The sound of the whip cutting through the air was sharp and piercing.

The first lash landed across my back, the pain of splitting skin making me almost faint. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. The second, third... pain spread like flames.

The courtyard was filled with onlookers—family members, servants, and the other rejected women.

Their gazes varied, but no one spoke up for me.

Anastasia nestled in Leone's arms, burying her face against his chest as if unable to bear the cruel sight, but I could see the suppressed smile playing on her lips.

Leone stood there the entire time, watching with an impassive expression.

His eyes regarded me like a despicable, unknown criminal.

Thirty, forty... consciousness began to blur; only the pain was real.

When the fiftieth lash finally landed, my back was a bloody mess, barely recognizable.

The Soldatos untied my wrists. I collapsed to the ground, my cheek pressed against the cold stone slabs.

"Drag her away. Don't dirty the place," Leone's cold voice came.

No one offered to help me.

Supporting myself on my elbows, I moved inch by inch, using all my strength, dragging my nearly broken body toward the estate infirmary.

Behind me, a trail of blood followed.

By the time I reached the infirmary door, I had exhausted my last ounce of energy.

The Donovitch family's private doctor looked at me with a slight frown. As if under orders, he simply tossed me a roll of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant.

"Mr. Leone has issued orders. No one is to help treat your wounds. You'll have to do it yourself," he said coldly, then turned and left.

Before Anastasia returned to her home country, Leone had always been good to me.

He once spent a hundred million on fireworks just to make me smile. He once single-handedly stormed into enemy territory to rescue me.

Therefore, in my past life, I never would have believed he could be so cruel to me.

Now, leaning against the cold wall, I trembled as I tried to clean my wounds with hands covered in dirt and blood, applying medication, then wrapping them with gauze.

Each movement sent nerve-shredding pain through me.

And with each pain, my resolve hardened.

My phone vibrated. A message from my father:

"Elena, we were ambushed during a family transaction. Critical situation. Request support immediately."