Chapter 3

After that tasteless dinner, Matteo showed up at the front door of the estate with two drinks to go.

Two iced blueberry smoothies.

One for Serena. One for me.

Serena took a sip and gave him a thumbs-up right away.

"See? You get me. It's so hot out. You need something cold."

I held the cup in my hands. The cold seeped into my palms and slowly sank all the way down into my heart.

Before he met Serena, Matteo had told me he had an older brother too.

His brother was brilliant. Everyone in the family only had eyes for him, like no one even remembered there was a younger son.

Back then, I naively believed Matteo and I were the same kind of person.

Until Serena came along, and Matteo told me himself:

"Your sister's just easier to like than you."

Even so, I loved him for years.

Because he was the only person who still remembered I existed while he was thinking of Serena.

When we were kids, every time he brought us gifts, he got two of the exact same thing.

But at some point, both of those gifts slowly turned into things Serena liked.

"Stella. What are you doing? Drink it. I got it just for you."

When I didn't move, Matteo said it offhandedly, his eyes still glued to Serena's smiling face.

I looked at him and finally reminded him.

"Matteo. I'm allergic to blueberries. And my stomach can't handle cold drinks."

The living room went quiet for a second.

He frowned, like he was actually trying to remember. Then he sounded annoyed.

"Are you? I could swear you've had blueberries before."

"And it's like a hundred degrees out. Who orders a smoothie with no ice?"

"Can you not be so high-maintenance all the time?"

What he didn't know was that the time I "had blueberries" was the first time I ate them by accident.

I broke out in a red rash all over, and I couldn't breathe.

Matteo was so scared his eyes went red. He stayed at the clinic and apologized to me over and over. He promised he would never forget.

So his "never" had only lasted a few short years.

My brother, Alessandro, snorted off to the side.

"Stella, can you not kill the mood every single time everyone's having fun?"

I lowered my eyes and didn't explain again.

Thank God I hadn't chosen to stay in New York.

Otherwise, I would have spent the next few years putting up with the same neglect and the same blame for no reason.

The next day, my parents decided to throw a celebration dinner for the younger generation of the family.

At the front of the estate, I stood beside the car, humiliated.

The August sun beat down with nothing to block it. The black car was burning hot.

The heat hit my face so hard that my skin stung.

Dad sat in the driver's seat and barked at me through the window.

"What are you doing? Get in."

"There's no room for me."

Dad frowned, irritated.

"How old are you? You can't squeeze in?"

Mom chimed in.

"Your sister gets carsick. She has to sit up front. Be reasonable."

But Serena was in the passenger seat, fixing the sun visor.

Mom and my brother each had a window seat in the back.

Matteo sat in the middle, holding the designer bag he had just bought for Serena.

Not one seat had been saved for me.

Even if I forced my way in, I would have to curl up like an unwanted stranger.

"There's no room."

Dad waved his hand impatiently.

"Then get yourself a ride to the club. It's not that far."

I nodded and took a step back.

"Okay. You guys go ahead. I'll..."

Before I could finish, Dad hit the gas.

The black car rolled past me. I stood there and watched the taillights fade. My throat felt like something was stuck in it.

In the end, I walked back to the estate alone, the same way I came.

In the kitchen, I made myself a bowl of pasta with spicy Italian sausage and stirred in a few big spoonfuls of chili sauce.

The heat made my eyes burn, and tears dripped into the bowl one by one.

But this time, I enjoyed every bite.

When I was done, I washed the dishes and wiped the counter until it was spotless.

The phone in my pocket buzzed. It was a voice message from Mom.

It was loud in the background. Everyone was praising Serena for being beautiful and smart, congratulating her on getting into New York headquarters.

"Stella, where are you?"

"Get a car and get over here. Don't keep everyone waiting!"

I stared at the message. My finger hovered over the screen for a moment.

In the end, I sent back two words.

"Not coming."

Back in my room, I started packing.

I only packed what I really needed.

Geneva winters were cold, but I left my heavy coats in the closet anyway. I could buy new ones there.

Nothing else was worth taking.

That included the gold bracelet my brother had given me. I left it on the desk, still in its box.

But when I opened the fireproof document case hidden beneath my bed, the original share certificates were gone.

I immediately logged into the family office's shareholder portal and checked the latest transaction records.

There it was.

The five-percent stake in Vittore Holdings that my grandfather had left me was no longer under my name.

A transfer of all my shares, registered that very afternoon.

I stared at the screen, hardly able to breathe.

Those shares were the only inheritance my grandfather had specifically set aside for me. They represented my stake in the family business, my place in the family, and the one thing no one could take away from me.

Who had transferred them?

I was so desperate I was about to call the family lawyer and demand an immediate freeze on the transaction when my door suddenly swung open.

Serena stood in the doorway, holding up her phone with a smug little smile.

"Pretty exciting, right? Mom just transferred your five-percent stake to me. I'm officially a shareholder now."

I slowly raised my head and stared at Mom, who had come up behind her.

I couldn't believe it.

"You gave her my shares?"