Chapter 2

Seraphina's POV

My breath caught in my throat. The color drained from my face.

A dead silence fell over the ballroom, followed by a rising tide of whispers from the members of the various families.

"Calculated scheme... Hah, Don Marino sees right through her."

"So she really was just a gold digger targeting the old Don's legacy."

"I told you so. How could an orphan ever be worthy of the Marino lion? What does she have besides that face?"

Humiliation and the sting of vicious speculation washed over me.

Lily's face changed. As the family's Madre, she valued propriety above all else.

She quickly shielded me from the prying eyes and gave a nod to the bodyguards.

"Take Donna back," she ordered in a low voice, then turned to me, her tone softening slightly. "Seraphina, don't lose your composure here. Lorenzo's been drinking. Men say foolish things in situations like this."

She had long known of Lorenzo's indifference toward me, but she never expected him to say something so hurtful in front of all the families.

But I saw it clearly. The scorn in his eyes was colder than winter.

I was "escorted" from the event, the bodyguards' firm grip leaving no room for argument.

Back in the cavernous master bedroom, I collapsed onto the carpet like a puppet with its strings cut, feeling as if my soul had been hollowed out.

Two years ago, when Don Costello was on his deathbed, it was Lorenzo who had knelt on one knee before all the core family members.

His usually indifferent eyes had held a look of love so deep I could have drowned in it.

"Marry me, Seraphina. I'll give you a home."

I had always secretly loved him. I thought he had finally seen me, and I had no strength to resist.

Years of hidden longing ignited in an instant, my acceptance delivered through tears of joy.

I quickly accepted, slipping on the ring, my heart full of hope.

Now I finally understood. It had been nothing more than a coronation, a performance to ensure a smooth transition of power.

And in his eyes, my "I do" was not out of love, but out of greed for the family assets.

I was just a pawn used to appease the old Don. He believed I had manipulated his grandfather to secure my place.

Now that the game was won, the pawn had naturally become a burden.

The pent-up grievances of two years crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under.

I bit my lip hard, using the sharp pain to force myself to stay lucid.

Yes, I loved Lorenzo, ever since the day I first understood what love was.

But the coldness and neglect of our marriage had slowly worn that fervent love away.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them back.

In the silent, dark room, a sudden vibration broke the stillness. It was an encrypted phone I rarely used.

The screen glowed faintly as an anonymous text message appeared, dripping with naked malice.

"Your husband isn't coming home tonight. Do you know why?"

"Because he's with me, handling some... private business."

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering. My finger hovered over the delete button, but it trembled, unable to press down.

The sender didn't seem to care about my reaction, immediately sending a photo.

The first picture was of Lorenzo's study, a room no one was ever allowed to enter.

A woman was taking a selfie in the antique mirror. She was wearing only a black silk shirt, Lorenzo's favorite.

The caption read: "His shirt is so comfortable. I even added a little something to his chest tattoo."

I recognized the woman at once. Victoria. Lorenzo's ambitious chief secretary.

Immediately, a second photo arrived.

Lorenzo was asleep, his powerful chest bare.

Next to the lion tattoo marking him as head of the Marino family, there was a fresh, red tattoo of the letter "V."

He had actually tattooed her initial over his heart.

The still-bleeding letter was like a vile brand, desecrating the lion and completely shattering the last of my dignity.

After all, before we were married, he had refused my request to even engrave my name on his ring, calling it an unreasonable demand.

At that moment, the tears wouldn't come.

I suppose when your heart truly dies, you stop feeling the pain.

I wiped my dry eyes and staggered to my feet.

Sometime during the night, a heavy rain had begun to fall over New York.

I walked to the window, watching the world being washed clean by the downpour, and the idea that had been circling in my mind finally became clear.

I no longer wanted this marriage full of suspicion. I no longer wanted a loveless marriage.

I picked up my phone and dialed the private number I knew by heart.

The number was etched in my mind, yet I realized I had only called it a handful of times over the years.

It rang five times before someone picked up.

I took a deep breath, my fingers gripping the phone so tightly the knuckles turned white, but my voice was surprisingly calm. "Lorenzo, let's get a divorce."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

It was so quiet I could only hear the faint static and the drumming of my own heart.

After a moment, the dial tone buzzed in my ear.

He had hung up.

He couldn't even spare me a single word, not even a syllable.

The hand holding the phone dropped limply to my side, and the last trace of color drained from my face.