Lorenzo walked into the hospital.Sofia's face lit up. She smiled, soft and certain. "Lorenzo, I knew you wouldn't leave me—"She reached for his hand. He stepped back like she'd burned him. Cold, distant.He stared at her, ice in his eyes. "Did Chiara really force you to try to kill yourself?"Sofia blinked, flustered. "Of course she did! Lorenzo, you can't trust that kind of woman—"He cut her off. No heat, just a dead-flat voice. "I checked. You had no direct contact with Chiara. How did she 'force' you? And why did it happen the same day I visited the chapel?"He watched her. "The doctors said the drug levels weren't even close to lethal. That 'suicide' looked staged."His last words were quieter, more to himself than to her, colder than anything before.He felt stupid—how easily he'd fallen for that shallow lie, and the unforgivable things he'd done because of it.Lorenzo moved fast. He ordered Sofia out of the country.Every gift, every asset she'd been given was taken
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