Chapter 6

My hand, clutching his sleeve, fell away. My throat was raw, as if it had been scraped with a razor, and I could taste blood.

He ignored my pain and my pleas, treating my life's work like trash to be tossed aside.

Yet he protected Isabella to the extreme, unwilling to let her suffer even the slightest grievance.

Suddenly, the tears stopped.

I remembered a line I once read: tears only work on people who love you.

I forced myself to calm down, wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, and began to mentally map out the Falcone family's underground network of garages, trying to find a way out for my crew.

Vito sat on the edge of the bed, expecting me to throw a fit like I always did, to try and force him to take back his decision.

After all, the word "compromise" had never been in Liliana Falcone's dictionary. Anything I wanted, I either took by force or destroyed so no one else could have it.

But I said nothing. I just threw back the covers, walked to the sofa farthest from him, and unlocked my phone.

My unnatural silence brought a flicker of annoyance to his eyes.

He suppressed the inexplicable panic rising in his chest and tried to compensate me.

"Stop being angry."

"That pigeon's blood ruby you glanced at during the Sotheby's auction last month? I bought it for you."

"It's the only one in the world, and it's all in your name."

That necklace was worth enough to buy ten E-Customs studios with change to spare.

In Vito's mind, he had shown more than enough sincerity in placating me this time.

But I didn't even look up, seemingly uninterested, my focus solely on my phone.

Vito pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice low. "That's enough. Come here and sign the asset transfer documents."

Hearing the word "sign," I finally looked up, my voice perfectly calm. "Alright."

"Let me see the documents."

Vito didn't realize that in the instant I agreed, the corner of his mouth had tilted up slightly.

With my back to him, I pretended to flip through the complicated jewelry transfer agreement.

Just then, Vito's phone rang. He answered without hesitation, his voice soft and low.

After hanging up, he grabbed his jacket and started to leave.

I quickly pulled a single document from the middle of the stack and put my hand on his arm. "What's the hurry? Sign this before you go."

He fought back his impatience, took the pen, and quickly signed his name where required.

"You go to sleep. I might not be back tonight."

Watching his retreating back, I lowered my eyes to the now valid divorce agreement and found it almost laughable.

Our marriage hadn't even lasted a full year.

I could barely remember what it felt like to be that Liliana on the cliffside, the one who would have given her life for him.

In the middle of the night, I lay in bed, wide awake.

Suddenly, with a loud "bang," the bedroom door was violently kicked open.

My neck exploded in pain, and a scream tore from my throat. "Ah—"

A bright light blinded me, reflecting the tears of pain streaming down my face.

Vito's hand flinched slightly, as if burned by my tears.

But he only froze for a second before his rage returned.

"Liliana, you've gone too far this time!"

I didn't even have to ask. I knew that murderous look was all for Isabella.

For Isabella, he kicked down my door in the middle of the night.

For Isabella, he took away my team.

For Isabella, he ignored my pain and threw me to the floor like an enemy...

I didn't even have the energy to struggle. I casually pulled together the torn collar of my nightgown and let out a mocking laugh. "What is it now, my boss? What's wrong with your precious sister?"

My indifferent attitude completely ignited the fury he had been suppressing.

"You dare ask?" he snarled, looming over me, his eyes filled with a deadly disappointment. "Isabella takes over your pathetic little garage, and you send her a bloody razor blade and death threats?!"

"Have you forgotten her father died taking a bullet for mine? You've scared her into a nervous breakdown. She's hiding in a closet, trembling. Are you satisfied now?"

I took a deep breath, defiantly meeting his furious gaze. "I didn't do it. If I wanted her dead, I would have put a bullet in her head myself, not stooped to these cheap tricks."

"You still dare to deny it?" Vito snarled, throwing several enlarged photos in my face.

The photos showed a blood-stained card with twisted writing on it: "Thief," "Usurper," "You will die in a car."

I kept telling myself that Vito would always side with Isabella, but seeing the crudely forged evidence, I couldn't help but bite back. "That's not even my handwriting!"

"If you didn't do it, one of your lowlife friends did. Now Isabella is terrified to even get in a car. She's having nightmares."

"Congratulations, Liliana. You got what you wanted!"