Chapter 3

With my visa secured, I returned home and collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I opened my eyes, the night had already swallowed the sky. Needing to clear my head, I stepped out into the garden. But, I hadn't been out there long when Elara appeared.

"Lyra." She cooed, her voice soft but dripping with unapologetic provocation. "I heard your story with Vincent over the past six years."

I couldn't be bothered to her pathetic games, and turned on my heel to leave. But the second I pivoted around, a blood-curdling scream tore through the night.

Elara had thrown herself forward, smashing her forehead against the sharp stone edge of a garden bench. Blood instantly poured down her face.

"Elara!"

Almost simultaneously, Vincent and my dad, Dominic Corleone, rushed out of the living room. I had wondered why the hell Vincent was here in the first place.

Elara was on the ground, clutching her bleeding forehead, tears streaming down her face.

"Dad, Vincent… please don't blame Lyra. I just lost my balance…"

Dominic's face turned the color of iron. Pointing a trembling finger at me, he roared in a blind fury.

"You ungrateful wretch! What did you do to your sister?!"

I stood rooted to the spot, and watched her farce indifferently. My heart was broken as if it was a block of solid ice. My eyes swept past my enraged father and landed on Vincent.

He was crouched beside Elara, carefully inspecting her wound. When he finally looked up, the usual calm in his fathomless eyes was gone, replaced by a bone-chilling, ruthless scrutiny. In that moment, the cold seeped straight into my marrow. I knew he didn't believe me either. Yes, Elara was his secret obsession. Why would he ever take her word over me? I just sneered.

Dominic immediately barked out his bodyguards.

"Grab this ungrateful wretch! Drag her to the ancestral hall and get her to kneel! Give her thirty lashes! No one is to let her up without my permission!"

I fought back with everything I had, but the bodyguards pinned me down effortlessly. I cast a desperate, pleading glance toward Vincent. But he was entirely caring about Elara, completely blind to me being dragged away.

I was ruthlessly hauled into the side hall. A guard raised a heavy leather whip and brought it down hard against my back!

CRACK!

The agonizing, flesh-tearing pain hit me instantly. My vision went black. I bit down on my lower lip so hard, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a scream.

The whip lashed down again and again. My whole body convulsed in agony. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes as my consciousness began to slip away.

Old memories flashed through my mind. Vincent had once vaguely known about my bad relationship with my father and tried to help me. I still remembered the nights I was drowning in grief, sneaking out to my mother's grave in the pouring rain. He had found me, wordlessly stripping off his jacket to wrap around me, and driven me home in silence. I reminisced about those moments of tenderness I had foolishly mistaken for care…

Back then, I could never have imagined that one day he would be the one to push me into this absolute abyss.

A metallic tang flooded my throat. I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

…

When my consciousness finally returned, I found myself lying on my own bed. Every inch of my body ached as though it had been crushed by a truck. Gritting my teeth against the blinding agony, I have my bags packed.

Moments ago, my immigration papers had finally been approved. Clutching my luggage, I headed for the door, ready to make my escape to the airport. But the moment I pushed open the door, I came face to face with Vesper Corleone. Seeing my bruises and cuts, Vesper instantly broke down into a sobbing mess.

"Are you really leaving? My uncle is already planning the wedding! How did you two suddenly fall apart?"

I just shook my head. "I'm done playing house with him. We're finished."

Vesper could do nothing but stand by and watch me leave. But, he insisted on seeing me off to the airport. In front of terminal, I pulled Vesper into a brief embrace, patting her back gently. Then, I let go, offered a casual wave, and turned toward the security checkpoint.

Vesper watched my silhouette disappear into the crowd. Unable to hold her tears back any longer, she collapsed to the floor, weeping uncontrollably. Fueled by a fierce, righteous anger, she pulled out her phone and called Vincent.

"Uncle! Why did you give up Lyra for Elara?"

Vincent's voice came through the line, laced with genuine confusion. "When did I ever give up on Lyra?"

"Then why is she immigrating to Switzerland and never coming back? You must break her heart!"

Dead silence fell on the other end of the line. A few seconds later, Vincent's voice returned.

His cool, untouchable composure was entirely gone, replaced by a rare, suffocating panic.

"What do you mean…Lyra left?"