Chapter 3

But now, he was casually telling me to give away this token of my loyalty to another woman.

My nails dug so hard into the flesh of my palm that blood nearly welled.

I met Luca's cold, entitled expression and finally, slowly, nodded.

"Fine. I'll have it sent over in the morning."

Luca's eyes flickered. He gave me one last, deep look, then pushed open the door and walked out.

The sound of his low, sweet reassurances soon drifted down the hallway, followed by the click of the lock on the adjacent bedroom door.

I turned numbly, pulled open a walnut drawer, and took out an old calendar.

I picked up a red pen and drew a heavy X over today's date.

Two days left until my brother came for me.

I took off the wax-stained gown and stepped into the bathroom.

The scalding water from the showerhead washed over my exhausted body. Through the steam, I stared at my ashen reflection in the mirror.

Luca, you found me in a slum shootout seven years ago. I suppose I owed you a life for that.

In these seven years, I've taken a bullet for you, dealt with your dirty traitors, and managed the Bellini household like a fortress.

As of today, that blood debt is paid in full.

The next morning. As Luca had commanded, I had my personal bodyguard deliver the ancient amulet to Mia's suite.

Mia arrogantly had her servants leave the door wide open.

As I walked past down the long corridor, I caught a glimpse of her fiddling with it. She was sitting at her vanity, using a small steel file to scrape away the centuries-old enamel on the amulet.

"This piece of junk is so dated. I should have it melted down and remade into a diamond necklace, something worthy of me," Mia whined to the servant beside her.

The maid glanced nervously at me in the doorway, too terrified to even breathe.

I didn't even break my stride, walking expressionlessly toward the kitchen.

The old gunshot wound on Luca's chest ached terribly on rainy days. For seven years, I had been the one to personally brew the herbal soup that eased his pain.

I stood before the simmering earthenware pot, silently watching the dark brown concoction bubble.

This would be the last time.

I poured the thick broth into a porcelain tureen and carried the tray toward Luca's study.

The heavy double doors weren't fully closed, and I could hear him talking with Marco, the family consigliere.

Just as I was about to raise my hand to knock, Marco's voice came through clearly.

"Don, you went too far this time. The Donna is a woman who took a bullet for you. Aren't you afraid of breaking her completely? You know how much she relies on you."

My hand froze in mid-air. Luca's voice was as cold as ice.

"Where else would she go? This estate is all she has."

"For seven years, I've let her become too dependent on me. She thinks she can't survive without me holding her hand. Mia needs my protection right now, and Elara needs to learn to grow up."

"I'm going to force her to stop being so clingy, make her understand who really calls the shots in this estate. Once she accepts her place, there will, of course, be a room for her in the Bellini house. She won't starve."

Marco sighed. "By using such methods, aren't you afraid she'll truly give up on you and never look back?"