Chapter 3

On the seventh day after the poison incident, I could barely get out of bed and walk on my own. The infirmary had limited conditions, and so, in his so-called mercy, Antonio decided that I should continue recovering in the main estate.

The moment I pushed open the door, I froze.

My room had been completely ransacked. The closet stood wide open, its contents scattered across the floor, some torn, some stained. Every desk drawer had been pulled out, and papers were scattered everywhere.

What made my chest tighten was the nightstand. The silver photo frame holding my parents' wedding picture was gone.

That was the only photograph my parents had left me.

"Looking for this?" Martina's voice came from the doorway. She leaned against the frame, holding the picture frame in her hand.

"Give it back," I said, my voice hoarse.

She laughed and walked to the window, pushing it open. Below was a courtyard paved with stone. If the frame fell, it would shatter completely.

She tilted her head. "Beg me, just like you did that night in the banquet hall. Get on your knees and beg."

My fingers clenched at my sides.

"Martina, don't push it." Enzo's voice suddenly rang out. He and Dante stood in the hallway, clearly just back.

Martina immediately put on a sweet smile. "I'm helping Chiara clean her room. This old frame was all moldy, so I thought I'd wipe it down for her..."

Before she finished speaking, her hand 'accidentally' slipped.

The frame fell from the window, and the sharp sound of shattering came from below.

I rushed to the window. On the courtyard stones, the frame was mangled, the glass shattered, and my parents' photograph was caught by the wind, drifting down into the nearby fountain, slowly becoming soaked and blurred.

"Oops!" Martina covered her mouth, though her eyes sparkled with barely contained glee. "Sorry, Chiara. My hand slipped. You're not mad, are you? It's just an old frame..."

I turned and slapped her across the face.

Martina stumbled backward from the blow and hit the wall. She clutched her cheek, staring at me in disbelief. Then, her eyes immediately welled up.

"Dante! Enzo! She hit me!"

Dante strode into the room and grabbed my wrist. The force was so strong my wrist bones creaked.

His voice was ice-cold as he growled, "Apologize."

My voice trembled as I argued, saying, "She destroyed my parents' keepsake. That was the only photo they left me."

Enzo frowned. "It's just a picture. Martina already apologized. She didn't mean it."

"She did mean it!" I screamed, my damaged vocal cords producing an awful sound. "She deliberately trashed my room and deliberately smashed the frame! Can't you see that?!"

Dante glanced at the mess on the floor, then at the broken pieces outside the window, his brow furrowing. He asked, "Martina, did you go through her room?"

"I just wanted to help her organize..." Martina's tears fell at just the right moment. "She's injured, and a messy room isn't good for recovery. That frame... I really didn't mean to, Dante. You believe me, don't you?"

She threw herself into Dante's arms, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed pitifully.

Dante's grip loosened slightly. He patted Martina's back, then looked at me with a complicated expression.

He said, "Even if she went through your room, you still shouldn't have hit her. Apologize, Chiara."

I could not believe my ears. "She destroyed my parents' keepsake."

"It's just an object." Enzo stepped forward, his tone impatient. "People are more important than things, Chiara. Martina meant well. Even if her approach was wrong, you shouldn't have hit her."

I looked at Dante, holding Martina as he protected her.

I looked at Enzo, standing firmly on her side, treating my anger as an overreaction.

Then, I looked at Martina, who lifted her head in Dante's arms and gave me a brief, victorious smile.

In that moment, something inside me finally snapped. Like the shattered frame, it could never be put back together.

"Fine," I said, my voice frighteningly calm. "I will apologize."

Dante released my hand.

I walked up to Martina and looked at her swollen face. Then, I said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. Just like you shouldn't have smashed my parents' keepsake, shouldn't have put laxatives in my food, shouldn't have locked me in the wine cellar, and shouldn't have falsely accused me of pushing you. None of that should've happened. So now we're even."

Martina's expression changed, and Dante and Enzo froze, too.

I took a step back and said, "Now, all of you, get out of my room."

The word was quiet, but the finality in it shut Enzo up.

Dante stared at me for a long moment. Then, he wrapped an arm around Martina's shoulders. "We are leaving."

As soon as they walked out, I closed the door and slid down against it, sinking to the floor.