Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning to see Sofia wearing an apron, busy cooking in the kitchen.

When she saw me, she excitedly tried to hold my hand. "Grace, I know that you don't like me to be close to your son, but in the days when you weren't there to care for them, I've always been by his side."

She added, "I'm not asking you to accept me. I just ask that you don't stop me from seeing him, okay?"

She had tears down her face, but her eyes were gleaming triumphantly.

All of a sudden, as the sound of the lock clicked and the door opened, Sofia yelped, "Ahh!

"I was really trying to apologize to you, Grace! I get it if you don't forgive me, but did you have to shove me like that?"

Sofia fell to the table, sweeping the entire table of dishes to the floor. Shards of plates and food were scattered all across the dining room.

Raffaello rushed over and helped Sofia up. "Grace! When you were out and about with other men instead of looking after our son and me, it was Sofia who looked after us! She's our savior. How could you torment her like this?!"

He shoved me to the ground, and I fell among the broken shards. My arms were instantly cut as blood spilled across the wool rug.

"Ahh! I didn't–"

I gasped and tried to explain myself when he flipped the entire table. "Enough! I don't want to listen to your excuses."

The table hit my back hard, and I felt as if my back was about to break. It hurt so badly that I almost passed out.

Raffaello said icily, "I've given in too much to your whims. You'll kneel and clean this up today! Don't you dare get up until you finish cleaning this entire place!"

While putting on her act, Sofia had been accidentally burned by the food. The back of her hand had a red patch, so Raffaello picked her up and rushed her to the hospital.

My injuries were a thousand times more serious than hers, but Raffaello could not see it at all.

After he left, Lorenzo picked up one of the shards and flung it at me. "You evil woman! If you ever hurt Sofia again, I'll get Daddy to divorce you and kick you out!"

The shard ran down my cheek, drawing a long gash. Compared to the cut on my face, my son's cutting words hurt far worse.

I began to heave as my lung spasmed in waves. I fell to the ground, struggling. My limbs started to go numb as I could not get enough air into my body.

Desperately, I fumbled through my pockets for the emergency inhaler.

Nothing.

"Looking for this?" Lorenzo's foot was on the small bottle that must have rolled away at some point.

The next second, he snickered and kicked it further away from me. I could not grab it no matter how I reached it.

"Daddy was right–you just like to pretend to be sick to gain sympathy. Let's see if you'll die here today."

Then, he entered his room and closed the door.

Tears streamed down my face, into my mouth. It tasted bitter.

I had no choice but to crawl through the shards with difficulty to get to the inhaler.

When I finally got better, I cleaned my injuries and cleaned up the mess in the dining room.

When Raffaello had returned, it was already midnight. The home was spotless once more.

When he saw the bandages on me, his eyes gleamed a little furtively. "You were the one who hurt Sofia first. I had to defend her, so you had no choice but to suffer a little."

He added smugly, as if I was a charity case, "Sofia is having a concert in a villa up on the snowy mountains three days from now. I'll bring you along to get some fresh air. Consider this me making it up to you."

Since when did travelling with them become a reward?

I bore through the pain of my lungs spasming.

Amid all this, I remembered when the three of us went camping together as a family.

Back then, Raffaello would shed his icy demeanor as the Don of the mafia, just to cook for Lorenzo and me. Lorenzo would also always feed me first, saying that I should have priority on every dish.

Everything changed after all.