Chapter 1

Marianna D'Andrea moved quickly. By the time I got home, the divorce papers were already waiting for me.

She said, "Sign them. I'll handle Leopoldo's side. In one month, you'll receive the finalized divorce decree. Once you leave, don't ever come back. The Madre of the Vece family was never meant to be a nobody like you."

"Okay," I replied calmly.

After that, I handled my adoptive father, Raffaello Conti's funeral alone.

He had once been the director of a local orphanage, and I was the last child raised there.

After the orphanage shut down, he used his own savings to raise me. I had promised that I would take care of him in his old age and see him through to the end. I never imagined that, in the end, I would be the reason he died.

On the day of the funeral, people who heard the news came carrying flowers.

"Why isn't Don Vece here? Doesn't he know yet?" someone whispered.

The question spread through the crowd like a spark landing on dry grass.

At the same time, my phone buzzed.

"Elena isn't emotionally stable right now, so the transplant is postponed. I've contacted the best specialists worldwide to help Raffaello stabilize. We'll schedule the operation in a month. These next few days, I'll stay with Elena so she can relax and recover."

I stared at the screen and suddenly laughed.

He still didn't know Raffaello was already dead. He also had no idea that I had seen everything with my own eyes in Elena Granucci's house.

I didn't reply. I turned off my phone.

After the funeral, I went back to the orphanage where I had grown up.

The real estate agent was already waiting at the gate. When he saw me, he hurried over. "This old place isn't worth much. Are you sure you want to sell it? Signora Conti, even though Signore Conti is gone, you could still come back sometimes. This is where you grew up."

I shook my head and said softly, "I won't be coming back. I'm leaving this city for good."

The agent looked surprised. Everyone in Ockdon knew how much Leopoldo Vece adored me.

Still, he didn't press further. He probably thought I was overwhelmed with grief.

After signing the transfer documents, I gathered the few belongings Raffaello had left behind and walked out through the gate. Suddenly, the agent pointed toward the street. "Look! Don Vece came to pick you up. He's always so thoughtful."

I turned around and saw Leopoldo's car parked by the curb.

I smiled bitterly and, under the agent's hopeful gaze, walked over and opened the passenger-side door.

Elena was sitting in the front seat. As Leopoldo swept a smudge of sauce away with the pad of his thumb, Elena lowered her eyes, the tips of her ears turning bright red.

The moment they saw me, they both instinctively leaned back.

Elena hurried to explain, "Don Vece was just helping me wipe off some sauce. It's not what you think."

"I didn't misunderstand anything," I said calmly, cutting her off. I closed the door and got into the back seat.

Leopoldo glanced at the box of belongings beside me and frowned. "Why did you bring all of Raffaello's things?"

"He won't be going back," I replied. "So I sold the orphanage."

He didn't question it and simply nodded. "That's fine. With his health, he really shouldn't be overworking himself anyway."

A sharp, prickling pain spread through my chest. I pulled my lips into a faint, mocking smile and said nothing.

Leopoldo didn't drive us home. Instead, he headed toward downtown.

Seeing my confusion, he explained, "There's a new upscale restaurant in Ockdon. Elena says it's good and insists on bringing you along to try it."

Elena's eyes lit up. "Yeah, Lucia. We finally all have time today. You have to come with us."

At the table, Leopoldo carefully set Elena's place, tending to her with meticulous care.

He said gently, "This restaurant's seafood bisque is excellent. Elena, you've been so tense lately. Have some more. It's good for your health and your mood."

Elena took a big sip, then looked at Leopoldo shyly. "Gracias, Don Vece. Lucia, I really envy you for having such a wonderful husband."

Leopoldo suppressed the smile that rose to his lips, then turned to me and casually poured me a bowl as well. "Don't worry. Raffaello will get better."

A dull ache rose in my throat. I sniffled quietly, forcing the tears back.

Then I raised my hand to stop him. "No need. I'm allergic to seafood, so I'll just have a salad."