Chapter 2

Two days later, in the evening, I returned home, hauling a pile of art supplies and a newly bought suitcase.

When I opened the door, a clear, unfamiliar female laugh rang out. A woman was standing next to Vittore.

Vittore came over and took the heavy things from my hands. "You're back. Perfect timing. Let me introduce the two of you."

Vittore rested a hand on my shoulder as he introduced, "This is Francesca Delle."

Then he turned to me. "Francesca, this is Chiara Romano. I mentioned her before. Her place isn't the safest right now, so she'll be staying here for a few days."

"Oh, alright. Has the staff prepared the guest room?"

"The guest room faces north, so it's a bit chilly," Vittore said thoughtfully. "Chiara isn't in the best health. She needs sunlight, so—"

"Then I'll move to the guest room," I interrupted. "The master bedroom faces the sun. Ms. Romano can rest there."

Since I had very few things, it didn't take me long to pack them.

In the end, the only thing left in the room was that massive photograph of Vittore and me.

All of a sudden, Chiara's voice came from behind me. "Need some help, Francesca?"

I shoved the last few books into a box. "No, I'm almost done."

She walked in and stopped in front of our engagement picture. "This is a nice photo. Still… engagement photos are really only meaningful if you're actually marrying the person, don't you think?"

I stood and met her gaze. "Ms. Romano, what exactly are you trying to say?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

But as she turned, her arm "accidentally" knocked over a tall decorative vase beside her, which landed squarely on the picture.

The enormous frame came off the wall, and glass shattered everywhere.

Gasping, Chiara covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that. Why was that vase so unstable…"

I stood there, coldly watching her act. Vittore appeared at the doorway. Upon seeing the mess, he frowned and asked, "What happened?"

Chiara immediately looked up, her eyes red, her voice trembling. "Vittore, I'm so sorry… I was just helping Francesca check for anything she might have left behind, but I accidentally knocked over the vase and ruined your photo… Francesca must be so mad…"

She glanced at me timidly as she spoke. I knew she hoped that I would lose my temper at her so she could play the victim.

As for Vittore, he definitely wanted the opposite, hoping that I would let it slide.

I met his eyes calmly, my voice flat. "Accidents happen. Could you let me through? I need to move my stuff out."

Vittore froze. Clearly, he hadn't expected such a reaction from me.

He glanced at the broken frame on the floor, then at my expressionless face. He then said to Chiara, "It's fine. It's just a photo. Have the maids clean this up. Be careful not to cut yourself."

I couldn't help letting out a cold laugh.

True. It really was just a photo. Eventually, a wedding photo of the two of them would take up that space, and that had nothing to do with me.

…

A few days later, Chiara was going to a reunion organized by some of her old school friends.

Not only did she bring Vittore, but she also brought me.

I watched Chiara loop her arm through Vittore's as they made their way through the crowd.

She went from friend to friend, introducing Vittore in an intimate manner. "This is my husband, Vittore Ferri."

Every time she said the word husband, it felt like a tiny needle was stabbing my heart.

After a while, Vittore came over to my side and whispered, "She said her ex is here. She didn't want to look bad in front of him, so she just made it up."

I looked away as Chiara led Vittore away.

A group of obviously tipsy young people swayed past me, their conversation drifting over. "That's Chiara's husband? The Ferri famiglia heir? He's handsome."

"I heard they got married recently. How lovey-dovey of them."

"Hey, who's the woman over there staring at Mr. Ferri?"

"No idea. Chiara said she insisted on coming along or something. She's not even joining in the fun, and she looks gloomy. What a mood killer."

"Jeez, some people shouldn't even be here…"