Chapter 4

Luca approached me and lowered his voice, an unmistakable trace of impatience on his face.

"Since we're playing the game, you should play along and own up to it," he hissed. "Isabella is only filling in for you. I won't let her reputation get dragged through the dirt here."

I looked at him, and a cold laugh escaped my lips.

"So you drag mine through it instead?"

Luca's brow furrowed into a deep scowl.

"Viola, you're dragging this out way too far. If you weren't taking everything so damn literally, we wouldn't be in this mess right now."

I didn't waste another breath on him. "The handover is complete. Goodbye."

With that, I stepped around him, heading straight for the front doors.

My cold detachment finally snapped his restraint. Staring at my retreating back, he called over the butler.

"Call over the family lawyer now. Draft a real set of divorce papers."

"On day seven, I'm going to make her choose right in front of everyone."

"Let's see how long she can keep up this little act."

On the final day of Isabella's trial run as the Donna, Luca summoned me back to the estate.

He claimed the seven days were up, everything taken from me would be handed back in person, and that it was time we dealt with our mess once and for all.

I made my final trip to the villa. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw the living room already staged for their annual "game over" reveal.

Champagne, cake, streamers—and walls plastered with photos of my past mental breakdowns. Beneath each photo were the original bet slips.

[How many minutes before Viola starts crying?]

[Will she smash the place up this time?]

[Is she gonna drop to her knees and beg Luca not to leave her?]

And this year's wager took center stage in bold ink:

[Once she sees real divorce papers, how long till she breaks?]

Isabella was lounge-sitting on the couch in my bathrobe—the one Luca personally took me to Milan to order when we got married. Luca stood beside her, glass in hand.

Someone in the crowd started hooting. "Oh, look at you two! Viola's not even here yet, why not just have a little heart-to-heart?"

"Seriously. She folds every single time anyway. Why are you two still putting on the pure childhood sweethearts act?"

The guy took a swig of his drink with a dirty grin. "Last Valentine's Day, I literally saw you two coming out of a hotel together. Necks completely covered in hickeys."

The whole room erupted into roars of laughter.

Outside the door, my finger froze over the bell.

On Valentine's Day, I was doubled over on the floor from stomach cramps, dialing Luca over a dozen times before he picked up.

He told me he was tied up in a high-stakes business meeting, telling me to pop some pills or drive myself to the private clinic if I couldn't handle it.

So he wasn't closing a deal. He was in a hotel bed with Isabella.

Inside, Isabella looked up at Luca as if asking for permission. She hooked her finger around his tie, pulled him down, and pressed her lips to his.

Luca didn't pull back. He let her kiss him for a full minute.

Only after she backed off did his brows knit together slightly. Something crossed his mind, and his voice went flat.

"Isabella, you took things way too far this time. Let's drop this whole game after today."

A cold, bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. It was funny how going to bed with someone could still be brushed off as "just a game."

Taking a deep breath, I rang the bell and let the butler open the door.

The chaotic laughter inside died instantly.

Planted right in the center of the coffee table sat a set of divorce papers.

Luca stared at me. A faint flash of anxiety flickered in his eyes before he could hide it, but behind it remained that same smug certainty that I would cave just like I always did.

Luca's friends chuckled from the couch.

"Viola, when you signed that fake contract two years ago, you cried so hard you couldn't even spell your own name. Don't let your tears ruin the paper this time!"

"Don't be silly. She wouldn't dare sign it."

Isabella stood up and walked over, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Don't take it to heart. Luca just wanted to see if you still cared."

Luca leaned back against the sofa, looking as triumphantly composed as ever.

"Admit you were jealous. Apologize to Isabella, put the ring back on, and I'll shred this right here, right now."

I didn't say a word. I just kept my head down, skimming through the terms line by line.

To make his little game convincing, Luca had actually drafted legally binding divorce papers. The division of assets was shockingly generous—he was a wealthy man, if nothing else.

Luca probably thought I'd be like two years ago, holding the pen with trembling hands, sobbing, "Luca, are you really throwing me away?"

Someone nearby even whipped out a phone, pointing the camera right at my face to capture me breaking down and losing control just like every time before, ready to turn my humiliation into cheap gossip for the Fontana family's next betting pool.

The countdown started.

"Three."

A faint smile was already curving Luca's lips.

"Two."

I picked up the pen.

"One."

Luca's eyes widened when I stroked my signature onto the final page.