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Chapter 3

Author: Aged
But then he brought Gianna home, and my last shred of hope shattered.

Maybe because I looked so pale, Dante came over and pulled me into his arms.

“Gianna’s been wanting to apologize to you in person. She wants to do something real to make it up to you.”

I said nothing.

He lowered his voice. “She hasn’t had it easy these past few years either. Now she’s pregnant, her husband isn’t around, and she’s got no one to look after her.

“Just let her stay and help out, okay?”

I lowered my eyes and said softly, “Okay.”

Rather than putting up a pointless fight, I might as well do as they said and get through these last few days.

Dante didn’t seem to expect me to agree so quickly. He looked down at me, hesitating. “Maybe we should—”

“Alina.” Gianna started crying. “I’ll do anything you want.

“I don’t want my child to ask about this someday and think their mom hurt someone.”

She cried as if her heart were breaking. Dante glanced at her, then at me.

“Then it’s settled.”

Seeing the shrewd gleam in Gianna’s eyes, I knew my last few days here weren’t going to be peaceful.

That afternoon, my favorite bed of tulips in the garden died after Gianna drenched it in boiling water. There was no saving them.

Gianna knelt in front of me, sobbing out an apology. “I didn’t know tulips were so delicate. I didn’t know a little hot water would kill them.”

I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her coolly.

Dante rushed over and helped her up, a faint note of reproach in the look he gave me.

“Alina, Gianna’s never done any gardening. Of course she didn’t know. She was trying to help—why give a pregnant woman a hard time? The flowers are gone. We’ll just plant new ones.”

Within the hour, a shipment of white lilies was flown in.

I quietly watched the workers pull up the drooping tulips and plant row after row of fresh white lilies.

Dante wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. His voice was gentle. “Gianna said you might be tired of tulips, so she switched the flowers. Do you like them?”

“They’re nice.” I leaned back against him, my gaze dull.

I knew they were her favorite.

She was Dante’s lawful wife—the real lady of this house.

Never mind replacing a whole garden. Even if she told me to get out right now, she could.

That night, Dante did something rare: he threw a dinner party at the villa, saying he wanted to make up for our fifth anniversary.

He handed me a mask. It was trimmed in gold thread and covered half my face, leaving only my chin and lips exposed.

He tied the ribbon himself.

“I’ve got a lot of enemies. Nobody can see your face.”

I nodded numbly. “Okay.”

At the party, I watched Gianna walk over wearing a mask exactly like mine.

She took her place on Dante’s other side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Some guests who didn’t know any better called her “Mrs. Moretti,” and she smiled and answered to it.

Dante’s hand on my waist paused. He murmured to me, “Don’t read into it. They just don’t know you.”

For five years, to protect me, Dante had never let me attend a single dinner party or family meeting.

His associates and his men had no idea what the real Mrs. Moretti looked like.

All they knew was Gianna, the woman always at Dante’s side.

Gianna’s gaze slid past Dante’s shoulder to me, her eyes full of triumph.

I made an excuse about fixing my makeup and escaped that awkward spot.

When I came back, Gianna was standing beside Dante. Champagne in hand, they laughed and clinked glasses with the guests.

Beneath their gold-trimmed masks, they looked like a perfect match.

I stood there frozen for a long time, until my phone buzzed.

It was a progress update from the Aurellian Ministry of Culture. Attached was a form confirming that I was voluntarily renouncing my original citizenship and closing my identity records.

The last line needed my signature.

I stared at the blank space and remembered the first time I performed on stage as a little girl, scrawling “Alina Graves” on the sign-in sheet in crooked letters.

My parents stood beside me, smiling. “Someday, this name is going to be in the best concert halls in the world.”

Just as I was about to make that dream come true, a spotlight came crashing down.

Later, this name ended up on a fake marriage certificate. Now it was on a very real form erasing me.

I took a deep breath and told myself to hold on just a little longer. I’d be able to leave soon.

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