Chapter 3

Lorenza froze, her eyes widening as if Nina had slapped her.

“Nina… how could you accuse me like that?” she whispered, her voice trembling so perfectly, so heartbreakingly, that Leo’s expression shifted immediately.

He believed her.

Of course he did.

The wounded look on Lorenza’s face only convinced him further that Nina must be lying—lying to protect Lucia. Because in Leo’s mind, that was the only explanation.

After all, what mother would intentionally hurt her own child?

Leo’s voice dropped into that tone he used when he thought he was teaching the kids a moral lesson.

“Nina, children shouldn’t lie. And she’s not a stranger. She is your and Nico’s biological mother. Without her, both of you wouldn’t even exist.”

“I’m not lying!” Nina cried, her voice shaking with frustration and fear.

Lorenza’s eyes glittered with tears. Then she attempted a soft, gentle smile—the kind that made her look pitiful instead of dangerous.

“It’s okay, Leonardo,” she whispered. “Kids only lie because they want to protect the people they love. It’s fine if they like Mrs. Marchesi. It simply means she has treated them well. That’s what matters.”

Her words were mild… but the implication was a knife to the ribs.

She was suggesting that Lucia had told Nina what to say.

And Leo swallowed the hint whole.

Anger darkened his eyes again, deeper this time.

“Where are the maids?” he barked.

Alisha Berri, one of the nannies, hurried in immediately.

Leo didn’t even bother to hide his intentions.

“Take the kids away.”

Nina reached for Lucia, panicked—but Alisha lifted Nico and guided her out with quick steps.

And Leo?

He walked away.

He walked away with Lorenza at his side without sparing Lucia a single glance.

---

Lucia stood there frozen.

Her body felt heavy—too heavy—as if everything inside her had sunk to the floor.

They were the twins’ birth parents.

So what right did she have to argue?

To defend herself?

To demand fairness?

Her gaze drifted to the blood-stained cotton swab still lying on the floor.

It wasn’t the sight of red that hurt—it was the disappointment curling tight in her chest.

For six years, she had run that house so Leo could focus on work.

She had raised the children from infancy.

She had believed her place beside Leo mattered.

Because he had always been loyal.

Always gentle.

Always responsible.

But now she saw the truth with cruel, humiliating clarity:

He only treated her that way because Lorenza was gone.

And the moment Lorenza returned… everything shifted.

In one night, he defended Lorenza with a passion he had never once shown Lucia in all six years of marriage.

Suddenly, every memory—every soft moment, every kiss, every quiet night together—felt like mockery.

---

Later that night, after showering, Lucia lay on the bed staring at the ceiling.

Footsteps approached.

Leo entered. He’d showered too. The scent of his cologne usually calmed her, but tonight it only twisted her stomach.

He slid into bed with his back facing her.

She turned the same way.

Two bodies inches apart but separated by miles.

Silence stretched… until he finally spoke.

“Lorenza came because she missed the children. You didn’t have to be defensive. And you definitely shouldn’t have taught Nina to lie. Don’t ever let something like this happen again.”

Lucia blinked slowly, disbelief washing over her.

“I’ve been raising them since they were newborns,” she whispered. “Nobody wants what’s best for them more than I do. So what makes you think I would teach them to lie?”

“If not you, then who?” he shot back coldly. “Lorenza?”

His voice sharpened, thick with accusation.

“Do you need me to remind you she is their birth mother?”

The words cut straight through her.

Six years of sacrifice.

Six years of sleepless nights.

Six years of loving them as her own.

And none of it meant anything.

One emotional evening from Lorenza erased it all.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

---

The next morning, Lucia woke to an empty bed.

It was the weekend—Leo always spent weekends with the kids.

Davide met her at the staircase.

“Mrs. Marchesi… breakfast is ready.”

There was something in his expression—sympathy? Pity?—but he masked it quickly.

The moment she stepped into the dining room, she understood why.

Lorenza had made breakfast.

Not a simple breakfast—an extravagant spread.

“Mrs. Marchesi, good morning,” Lorenza greeted softly. “Come and eat.”

Leo’s face softened immediately.

“You don’t have to do that,” he told Lorenza gently. “This is your children’s home. You deserve to live here with peace of mind.”

Lucia froze.

The words slashed across her heart.

Lorenza smiled serenely. “Alright.”

Lucia sat down stiffly.

Lorenza placed a dish in front of her with exaggerated warmth. “Try this. I used to be good at making crab quiche. Leo used to love it. So I made some for you and the kids.”

Leo’s eyes lit up.

“It’s even better than I remember,” he said warmly. “Thank you. But next time, you don’t need to cook. Lucia knows how to make it too.”

Thank you.

Lucia knows how to make it too.

So—Lorenza didn’t need to cook.

But she did.

And he was grateful.

Lucia stared at her oatmeal.

She remembered staying awake all night during Nico’s fever.

She remembered Leo stepping in only at dawn—saying nothing.

No thank you.

No acknowledgement.

But she swallowed the sting.

“Yes, I know how to make it too,” she said softly. “But Nina is allergic to crab. She can’t eat this.”

Lorenza tilted her head. “Allergic? Leo, that must be because she wasn’t weaned properly. You can’t be too protective. Kids need exposure to germs to build immunity.”

Leo’s gaze flickered toward Lucia.

He knew she had taken excellent care of the children.

But he said nothing.

He stayed silent.

Lorenza smoothly changed the topic.

“I was thinking of taking the kids out today. Leo, will you come with us?”

Then she looked at Lucia with false sweetness.

“And Mrs. Marchesi—you should come too.”

Leo cut in sharply. “Just call her Lucia.”

“Alright,” Lorenza murmured.

Then the two continued planning—talking around Lucia, over her, without ever asking if she wanted to join.

Lucia pushed her untouched food away.

“You people should go ahead. I’m meeting a friend.”

Leo lifted a brow. “What friend? You don’t have friends.”

“I have one who moved to town,” she said quietly. “I’m going to catch up with her.”

She used to have plenty.

Before she moved here.

Before she became Mrs. Marchesi and lost the rest of her world.

Leo only said, “Be careful. Don’t come back too late.”

She nodded and went upstairs.

---

The moment Lucia walked out of the dining room, Leo leaned closer and gently placed more food on Lorenza’s plate.

Lorenza’s chest tightened—not from affection, but from the familiar thrill of being the one he focused on.

“So your health is really back to normal?” he asked gently.

She lifted her lashes and gave him a sweet, delicate smile—the kind that always softened him.

“I’m fine now. Don’t worry,” she murmured, letting a hint of fragility slip into her tone.

He studied her with the concerned look she remembered well.

“You must have suffered a lot,” he said softly.

Ah… that guilt.

That tenderness.

That was what she had missed.

She lowered her gaze, letting her shoulders sink, her fingers tremble faintly around her fork.

She knew exactly what he would see—a woman who had endured, struggled, survived.

A woman he should have protected.

“It was alright,” she whispered sadly. “Things are better now.”

But inside, she felt no sadness.

She hadn’t suffered—not the way he imagined.

Not even close.

And she could never tell him the truth—not about where she went, not about why she stayed away, and certainly not about what she’d done.

Some things were better left unsaid.

Especially when silence helped people love her more.

---

Once the kids woke up, Lucia helped them get dressed, moving through the routine with automatic gentleness.

Their little shoes, their jackets, their tiny cameras—she made sure everything was ready.

She packed their bottles, wipes, and extra clothes, forcing a steady smile even though something inside her felt hollow.

“I’m not coming with you today, okay?” she said softly as she crouched to button Nico’s jacket. “So be good. Listen to your dad. Don’t run around on your own.”

Nico’s face fell. “Then who is coming with us?”

Her chest tightened. She hated answering.

“Your dad and… your birth mother.”

Nina’s reaction was instant—sharp, angry, wounded.

“We don’t want her! How can you not be our real mom? That woman is lying! We’ve never even seen her before!”

The ache in her voice pierced straight through Lucia.

If love could rewrite biology…

Lucia gently smoothed Nina’s hair. “She is your birth mother. If you keep resisting her, your dad will be upset.”

The children didn’t like it, but they nodded. They always listened to Lucia, trusted her, chose her.

Even now, they clung to her hand as if afraid someone would take them away.

Their rejection of Lorenza only deepened, leaving Lucia torn between guilt and heartbreak.

Downstairs, she placed a neatly folded paper on the dining table.

“Here’s a list of the kids’ food allergies and eating preferences.”

She didn’t wait for praise or acknowledgement.

She simply walked out.

She needed air—breathing had begun to feel heavy in that house.

---

AT BELLA’S BAR

Lucia spent the afternoon at Bella’s bar, a quiet corner where no one expected anything from her.

“Family day, yet you’ve spent half of it with me,” Bella teased as she slid a plate of fruits toward her. “That’s rare.”

Lucia let out a tired, bitter laugh.

“What am I supposed to do when the perfect family of four is out there having fun?”

It came out lighter than it felt. Inside, it stung.

“You could start your own business,” Bella said gently.

Lucia shook her head. “There’s no real space for my type of work in Milano.”

Private Equity Analyst.

A career built on big cities, big deals, big numbers.

Milano didn’t offer that.

And she refused to cross into Marchesi Group—Leo’s territory.

“Lucia,” Bella sighed, “you’re wasting your talent.”

Lucia looked away.

Bella didn’t know… or maybe she did.

Lucia had grown up surrounded by businessmen, trained by them, shaped by them.

She had built her family’s wealth from the ground up.

She had lived and breathed investments since she was seventeen.

And then she walked away from it all for Leo.

For love.

For a boy she had adored since school—who only looked at her after having children with someone else.

Her family had fought the marriage with everything they had.

She had lost them for him.

Leo knew none of it.

As far as he was concerned, she was an ordinary woman with ordinary roots.

A woman whose parents simply didn’t visit.

A dull heaviness crept into her chest.

“No more drinks. I should go,” she murmured.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Leo.

He rarely called—he preferred to text.

A small knot formed in her stomach.