Chapter 3

"I got the assignment for the international medical relief mission—"

I didn't even finish before Rocco cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand.

"Enough, Vivian. You’re trying to threaten me with that 'running away' bullshit again? Save it. I don't have time to coddle you today."

The words died in my throat. I swallowed them back down. Forget it. He didn't care anyway. Once I completely vanished the day after tomorrow, he’d find out the truth soon enough.

I gripped my old leather jacket and tossed out a casual lie. "I’m meeting some classmates to go shopping downtown. Just getting a head start on packing."

Rocco’s expression softened slightly. "I’m taking Elena to Fifth Avenue tomorrow. Don’t wait up for us for lunch; you’re on your own."

With that, he turned around and shut the door.

The next day, Rocco didn't bring Elena back to the estate until late at night. Elena was cradling high-end desserts while Rocco followed behind, loaded down with shopping bags full of luxury goods. They were laughing and joking as they walked through the door.

"Vivian, look at the new bag Rocco bought me! It’s a limited edition."

She intentionally flashed it in front of my face. I just forced a smile and pretended not to care.

After dinner, I was finishing up the dishes when I realized the bracelet Rocco had given me was missing. I turned around just in time to see Elena standing by the fireplace. She let her hand slip, and the bracelet hit the marble floor, snapping into several pieces.

The rage went straight to my head. I rushed over and shoved her to the ground.

"Elena, what the hell is wrong with you!"

Elena sat on the floor and instantly dissolved into loud, sobbing wails. Rocco heard the commotion and stormed in. He didn't ask questions; he just started yelling.

"Vivian! Why the hell are you putting hands on her?"

I bit my lower lip, my whole body trembling with resentment. "She smashed my bracelet! The one you gave me with your first cut as Underboss!"

Rocco’s furious expression froze for a split second. But he still instinctively jumped to Elena’s defense.

"I’m sure she didn't mean it. I’ll buy you a more expensive one another day."

"Don't bother," I interrupted coldly.

Elena sat on the floor, whimpering. "Rocco, I really didn't mean to. My hand just slipped... it’s my fault for being so clumsy."

The moment her tears started falling, Rocco believed every word. Over the past year, this scene had played out a thousand times. Now, I was too exhausted to even try explaining.

In the middle of the night, Rocco knocked on my door.

"I know you love the smoked meat from that one deli. I picked some up for you today."

He shoved a package into my hand, a hint of awkwardness on his cold, hard face. "About earlier... don't hold it against Elena. Also, that supervisor position at the trading company? It was originally under your name. Now that it’s going to Elena, I need you to sign this waiver."

The small smile that had started to form on my lips died instantly. So his "kindness" had a price. It was all just to clear a path for Elena.

"Give me the pen."

I nodded and signed the paper. Once he left, I threw the package of meat straight into the trash. Along with it went the very last shred of hope I had for him.

The day before I left, I specifically asked Rocco to come home early, telling him I’d cook dinner and wait for him. Even if I was cutting ties, we deserved one last meal together.

But I waited until the early hours of the morning, and he never showed. Elena was nowhere to be found either. Worried that something had happened, I threw on a coat and went to the family headquarters.

The guard at the gate looked at me with total confusion. "Miss Vivian? What are you still doing here?"

"The Boss took everyone to Long Island for a getaway. Said he was bringing the family..."

Standing in the cold wind, I had my answer instantly. Rocco had kept it from me simply because he was afraid I’d start another fight with Elena and make him look bad as Don.

Seeing me frozen there, the guard tried to comfort me. "Don't worry, the Boss will be back tomorrow afternoon."

He won't see me. I’ll be gone by morning.

That night, facing a table full of cold food, I left one final farewell letter for Rocco.

At dawn the next day, I took the ticket Father Mario had given me and boarded the train out of New York. I looked at the clock in the carriage. At this hour, Rocco should be getting home. He’d be just in time to see that empty dining table.