Chapter 1

Emma's POV

The scorching smoke choked my lungs, making it impossible to open my eyes.

In that split second, I felt pulled right back to my youth, when I was locked away in that dark tower. My family elders had thrown me in there to punish my every act of rebellion, using pitch-black isolation as a weapon. Endless, helpless stretches of solitary confinement had left me with severe claustrophobia.

Years later, at a high-society gala, I found myself shoved into a corner again, forced to endure the relentless taunts of the surrounding elite. However, at my lowest, Ricardo Tucci stepped in and rescued me from the crowd.

After that night, I willingly gave him my heart and became the fiancée of the Tucci cosca's Don.

Now, every breath in this thick soot was pure, searing agony.

By the time I finally regained consciousness, I was lying in the estate’s cold, stark recovery wing. There was only a junior doctor changing my bandages.

My raw throat burned as I forced out a raspy voice, "Where's Ricardo?"

The doctor paused mid-motion, hesitating. "Don Ricardo is with Signorina Ella. He had a top-tier medical team flown in for her."

My heart sank into my chest. Leaning against the wall for support, I dragged my pain-racked body forward, taking one step after another toward Ella Henderson’s suite.

The door was slightly ajar. Right at the threshold, I saw Ricardo sitting by her bedside, his voice dripping with gentle concern.

"Emma, don't be scared. It's all over now."

My entire body froze, and I almost spoke up out of sheer habit.

But then I saw Ricardo’s palm was resting directly over the back of Ella’s hand. His entire gaze was fixed solely on her.

Ella, who had caught sight of me standing outside, quickly tugged on Ricardo’s sleeve. "You've got the wrong person. Emma's standing right at the door."

Ricardo turned abruptly, a wave of sudden realization flashing across his face as he scrambled to his feet. "Emma? How are you feeling? Do your wounds still hurt?"

I stood there, staring at him in silence.

Her room was packed with luxurious imported treatments, while mine offered nothing more than a hasty, crude bandage.

Old memories rushed back all at once.

I came from a disgraced branch of old nobility and grew up treated with cold indifference. The family's finest jewels and connections always went to my cousins, while I was left with only scraps.

On the day we made our relationship public, Ricardo held my hand tightly before the elders.

"From this day on, every treasure, every piece of power, and all of my devotion in the Tucci famiglia will go to you first. You will never have to pick up anyone else's scraps again. You will be my future Donna."

Back then, I really believed that by his side, I wouldn't have to wait at the back of the line anymore. And at every auction afterward, he really did reserve the best gifts for me first.

There was just one problem—he could never recognize me right away.

Seeing my deathly pale face, Ricardo took a pained step forward, opening his arms to pull me into a hug.

I swatted his arm away with all the strength I had left.

Ricardo froze on the spot, his brows furrowing tightly. "Is this really necessary? I just misidentified someone in the middle of a chaotic fire. You know damn well I have prosopagnosia."

I locked my gaze straight onto his. "Yes, it is."

"Ricardo, why didn't you save me when the fire broke out?"

He answered without missing a beat, "The smoke was too thick to see anything. I honestly thought the person I carried out was you."

But I was wearing a tailored evening gown with my hair in a sleek bun. Ella wore a loose, flowy dress with her long hair left completely down. Even through thick smoke, how could anyone mix up two completely different outfits and hairstyles?

"It wasn't that you couldn't tell us apart. It's that deep down, you just didn't think of me first."

The words caught Ricardo off guard, making his expression stiffen instantly. His tone softened. "Emma, I was in the wrong this time..."

I didn't want to waste another second arguing. I turned around, ready to leave.

Panic flashed across Ricardo's face as he took a rushed step forward and grabbed my wrist. "Where are you going? Your wounds haven't even been properly treated yet—"

"Ricardo... my head is starting to spin again..." Ella's weak voice cut in from behind us.

Ricardo’s footsteps ground to a sudden halt.

He looked back at Ella's pale face, hesitated for an agonizing beat, and finally turned back to me. "Emma, go back to your room and rest first. I'll come find you later."

I scoffed, yanked my hand free, and walked out without another look.

Back in my study, I sat down at my computer and clicked send.

That setup document for an overseas antique firm, a project I had been quietly preparing for three whole years, was finally sent straight to my business partner's inbox.