The Second Chance He Didn't Deserve

The first rays of sunlight spilled through the towering windows of the Moretti mansion, illuminating polished marble floors that reflected the grandeur of one of the most powerful mafia families in the country.

Regina Moretti stood barefoot in the spacious living room, a feather duster in one hand and a soft cloth in the other. Her dark hair was tied into a loose bun, and she wore a simple cream sweater and jeans instead of the designer clothes filling her walk-in closet.

She moved quietly from one antique table to another, carefully wiping away dust that the housekeepers would have cleaned hours ago.

She simply preferred keeping her hands busy.

Growing up, her grandfather had always reminded her that no amount of wealth made a person too important to do honest work.

"Character is built in the things no one applauds," he often said.

No one in this house knew that the lessons came from the billionaire who owned Romano Global Holdings.

No one knew she was his only granddaughter.

And Regina intended to keep it that way.

She smiled softly as she glanced at the calendar on the wall.

Today marked three years since she married Robin Moretti.

Three years.

She had spent every anniversary hoping this would finally be the one when her husband looked at her the way a husband should.

Perhaps today would be different.

Perhaps.

The sharp click of high heels echoed across the marble hallway.

Regina straightened immediately.

Her mother-in-law, Isabella Moretti, appeared wearing an elegant navy dress adorned with diamonds that sparkled beneath the chandelier.

She surveyed the room with narrowed eyes before stopping in front of Regina.

"You missed a spot."

Regina looked down.

"Oh... thank you. I'll clean it."

Isabella folded her arms.

"I don't know why you even bother."

Regina continued dusting without replying.

"I've never seen someone so... ordinary."

Still, Regina remained silent.

"When Robin married you, I honestly believed he'd come to his senses within a month."

The words stung.

Not because they were new.

Because she had heard them hundreds of times.

"You don't belong in this family," Isabella continued. "You're timid, plain, and completely useless when it comes to representing the Moretti name."

Regina lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you."

A bitter laugh escaped Isabella.

"You disappoint everyone."

Before Regina could respond, footsteps approached from the staircase.

Robin.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in an expensive black suit despite the early hour, he descended with effortless confidence.

His presence always changed the atmosphere.

Even after three years of marriage, Regina's heart betrayed her by beating just a little faster whenever she saw him.

He barely looked at her.

Instead, he kissed his mother's cheek.

"Good morning, Mother."

"Morning, darling."

Robin glanced toward Regina, who still stood beside the coffee table holding the feather duster.

"What happened now?"

Isabella sighed dramatically.

"I was just telling your wife that she's polishing the same table for the third time."

Robin's lips curved into a faint smile.

"I suppose she has plenty of free time."

The remark earned a small laugh from Isabella.

Regina forced a smile, though the words settled heavily in her chest.

Robin loosened his cufflinks before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"You know, Regina," he said casually, "Mother's right. You really don't need to do these things."

Hope flickered inside her.

Maybe he was about to tell her she deserved better.

Maybe—

"...because the staff already does it."

The hope vanished.

"You'll only get in their way."

Isabella chuckled.

"I've been saying that since the wedding."

Robin shrugged.

"I believe you."

Regina quietly folded the cleaning cloth.

"I just wanted to help."

Robin finally looked directly at her.

For a brief second.

His expression remained unreadable.

"If helping makes you happy, then do whatever you want."

His tone was indifferent, almost bored.

Not cruel.

Not kind.

Simply detached.

And somehow, that hurt even more.

Silence settled over the room.

Robin checked the time on his watch.

"I'll be home late tonight."

Regina hesitated.

"But..."

He looked up.

She smiled carefully.

"I prepared something special for this evening."

Robin frowned slightly.

"For what?"

Her smile faltered.

"Our anniversary."

He stared at her for several seconds before giving a short nod.

"Oh."

Just...

Oh.

No excitement.

No warmth.

No memory of the date until she reminded him.

"I'll come if I'm free."

If.

Regina swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I understand."

Robin picked up his briefcase.

"Mother."

"Have a good day, darling."

Without another glance at his wife, he walked toward the front door.

The mansion echoed with its closing.

Regina remained standing exactly where she was.

Isabella shook her head.

"You really should stop expecting things from my son."

Regina didn't answer.

"One day you'll understand."

Isabella walked away, leaving the room as silent as before.

Only then did Regina allow herself to sit on the sofa.

She looked at the wedding ring on her finger.

Three years.

Three years of hoping.

Three years of convincing herself that patience could grow love.

She gently wiped away a single tear before standing again.

No.

Today would be different.

She would prepare his favorite dinner, decorate the dining room, and remind Robin why they had married.

Maybe this anniversary would be the beginning of something new.

She had no idea that by the end of the night, Robin would place divorce papers in front of her—and the life she had quietly endured would come crashing down.