Chapter 4

The morning of the gala, I woke up to a knife-sharp pain.

Weeks of stress and a whole day without food—my stomach was tearing itself apart.

I was drenched in cold sweat. I dialed the family doctor.

It rang and rang. No one picked up.

I threw on a robe and dragged myself out of the room.

The sun hadn't even risen, and the estate was already buzzing.

Lorenzo stood at the top of the stairs, directing servants as they hauled Vella's things downstairs.

"Lorenzo—where's the doctor?" I leaned against the railing, my voice thin. "My stomach's killing me. I need a shot."

He turned, brow furrowed.

"Lily, Vella was too nervous to sleep last night. The doctor's giving her a therapy session right now—he can't leave."

"She's my private doctor. What gives you the right—"

I tried to summon some fire, but it came out weak.

"Lily, there's a clinic a mile down the road. If you really can't stand it, I'll have the butler drive you. Vella's performance came together at the last minute and I'm busy booking the convoy—I can't go with you. You understand, right?"

Then he turned back to his instructions.

I didn't have the energy to deal with a clinic. I went back to my room, lay down, and clenched my teeth through the pain until sleep took me.

Outside, footsteps and chatter swirled all day. No one came to check on me.

By the time the pain finally eased, my heart had gone completely cold.

The sun was high now, and the whole estate was in chaos.

Everyone was rushing around for Vella's performance—stylists and makeup artists flooding the halls, the kitchen prepping her special meals.

I stayed in my room, dragging my weak body through packing, invisible as a ghost.

I put on a black coat, packed my passport and a few clothes into a small suitcase.

Lorenzo was in the main hall, helping Vella pick out a necklace for the show.

I walked over and handed him a folded document.

"There are a few extra guests for tonight's banquet. I need your final signature on the list."

He didn't even glance at it. He just grabbed a pen and scrawled his name at the bottom.

"Handle it yourself. I've got to get Vella to the theater—we're running late."

"Okay."

I looked at the paper and let out a quiet breath.

He didn't know that underneath that list was the divorce agreement I'd prepared long ago.

Lorenzo and his entourage climbed into the convoy for the theater.

I picked up my suitcase and walked out of the estate alone, climbing into a taxi I'd booked ahead.

In the rearview mirror, I could see Vella laughing and chatting in the car behind me. I just sat in silence, heading in the opposite direction—toward the airport.

Just before boarding, my phone buzzed.

A message from Lorenzo.

"Lily, the families should be arriving soon. Welcome everyone at the estate while I'm gone. I'll be back after Vella's curtain call. Be good."

My eyes landed on those two words—Be good.

The irony was almost too much.

I didn't reply. I just sent him the photo of the divorce papers.

Then block. Power off. Pulled out the SIM card and dropped it into the airport trash.

As the plane broke through the clouds, I watched the city shrink beneath me and let out a long, slow breath.

Goodbye, Lorenzo.

Goodbye, Mom and Dad.

I'm not anyone's sister anymore. Not anyone's Donna.

I'm just Lily now—free, and brave enough to live my own life.