Lahat ng Kabanata ng Nothing Waits Forever, Not Even Love: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

After I calmed down, the first thing I did was send the diagnosis report to Vincenzo.If only to give our eight-year relationship some kind of closure.I knew what Chloe and her brother meant to Vincenzo.When Vincenzo was a child, his father was killed in a gang war, and his mother had a mental breakdown.The neighboring Rossi family took Vincenzo in after he was orphaned.Marco, a few years older, was the big brother he had trusted since childhood.And Chloe was the little shadow who always trailed behind him.Everyone assumed the future Don would marry his childhood sweetheart.But during a firefight in a dark alley ten years ago, it was Marco who threw himself in front of a young Vincenzo.A bullet meant for Vincenzo's heart had torn through Marco's lung instead.After that, the Rossi family moved abroad and were gone for eight years.I didn't know the exact reasons, only that it was for Marco to recover and to escape the violence of our world.Until three months ago, when Chloe re

Vincenzo froze.I stood just outside the bulletproof glass of the ICU, every word a dagger in my heart.He could support Chloe for the rest of her life, give her a status in the underworld no one would dare challenge, but how could he give her the De Luca name?He had sworn before a priest that I was his one and only Donna, his one and only wife.Seeing Vincenzo's hesitation, Marco's body on the bed suddenly began to convulse violently.The heart monitor shrieked, its alarm like a countdown to death.Blood gushed from Marco's mouth, staining Vincenzo's expensive white shirt.Chloe, sobbing and trembling, tried to wipe the blood away while pleading with her brother."Brother, Vincenzo is already married. Don't make things difficult for him.""No… It was my fault. It was because of me that you had to leave New York. I'm the one who let you lose your protection…"Marco's hand gripped Vincenzo's arm tightly. "Vincenzo, cough… You know what this world does to women without the protection of

For the next three days, Vincenzo didn't come back.I wasn't idle, either.As a chief financial advisor, I had handled countless complex asset liquidations. This time, it was my own.I packed all my personal documents and belongings, shipping them secretly through my private channels to a secure vault in Zurich.Leaning back on the sofa, I stared at the wedding photo of Vincenzo and me on the wall, my eyes filled with cold tears.My phone buzzed, a text message pulling me back to the present.I opened it. It was a picture from Chloe.No words, just a high-definition selfie.In the photo, Chloe was wearing an ivory Italian gown, made from Vincenzo's favorite fabric.But what stung my eyes was the emerald necklace resting on her collarbone.It was the De Luca family heirloom, passed down through generations, to be worn only by the reigning Donna.When we got married, I had wanted to wear that necklace.But Vincenzo had locked it away in a UBS vault, whispering in my ear, "Elara, on our t

On the other end of the line, Vincenzo was clearly struggling to catch his breath.After a long moment, he spoke, his voice deliberate and controlled."Elara, divorce isn't a game. It doesn't become real just because you signed a piece of paper. You are the Donna of the De Luca family. You think you can just walk away? It's not that easy."His voice was low, laced with his usual commanding tone."It's been eight years. You've always been the rational one, the one who saw the bigger picture. Have you lost your mind? Why would you have the penthouse painted that godforsaken way?"He paused, trying to reason with me."Was it just because I had to 'marry' Chloe? I've explained it a thousand times. It was Marco's dying wish, a blood debt I had to repay. Why have you become so narrow-minded and selfish? Can't you endure this for the sake of the family's honor?"Vincenzo probably regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he was furious. He couldn't comprehend what I had done.I

The day after burning the sketchbook, I woke up early.The Tuscan sun streamed through the blinds, warm and golden.It was the first time in eight years I hadn't been woken by a nightmare.My mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and the smell of eggs fried with herbs filled the estate."How did you sleep?""Very well."I picked up the new set of pencils and a sketchbook from the table.My father must have bought them for me in Florence yesterday."Where do you want to paint today?""The olive grove."That afternoon, I sat under an olive tree, sketching.Dappled sunlight, a gentle breeze, and the smooth glide of my pencil across the paper, sketching a long-lost sense of peace.This was the first time I wasn't painting for Vincenzo, not for anyone in the De Luca family.I was painting only for myself."Elara?" A familiar voice came from behind me.I turned to see a face as warm as the sun."Leo?"It was Leo Moretti, my childhood friend.He was dressed in a simple white shirt an