Before he could see anything, I nonchalantly blacked out the screen.

"Most of the assets are to appease the Gallo family. You're a co-owner. Of course, the largest share is hers, but you can have a small portion."

"Sofia has PTSD. After I marry you, she'll only have this money to rely on. But you, you'll have me."

So, this was his plan all along. To clip my wings, one by one.

"As long as you're happy."

Sensing my displeasure, Alessio kissed my forehead.

"Sofia said you've suffered a lot these past few years. Tomorrow, she's hosting a grand charity gala to welcome you home. She wants all of Chicago to come and celebrate you. How does that sound?"

I nodded. I was curious to see what new scheme Sofia had devised.

The gala was a grand affair. Half of Chicago’s elite was there, including the major media outlets.

Alessio's mother, the matriarch of the Moretti family, saw me and spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Isn't this the traitor from five years ago? Now she's blind. It's what she deserves."

The people around her wore mocking smiles, eagerly waiting for me to shatter.

But I gave them no such satisfaction. I simply strode toward the dining table and took a seat.

Just as I was about to sit, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. It was Alessio.

"Don't draw unnecessary attention. These guests are important partners of the Moretti family. We can't afford to offend them."

"Your seat is over there. I prepared it specially for you."

I turned my head in the direction he pointed, toward a remote corner where a small, solitary table was set.

Meanwhile, Sofia sat at the main table. She had PTSD, you see, so Alessio had to be by her side at all times.

My mouth twitched. Words failed me.

But just then, a strange sound blared from the banquet hall's speakers.

It was the sound of my own screams and sobs, ripped from the depths of my drug-induced madness on that island.

The sound plunged me back into that hell. I remembered being in rags, my mind shattered. My teeth broken, my mouth full of blood. I clenched my fists, pleading in despair.

But my tormentors only grew more vicious. The recording even captured the sound of a man unbuckling his belt.

"Fiery. I like it."

"This is the only way to make you submit…"

Before the next part could play, Alessio grabbed a chair and smashed the control console.

What a shame. They didn't get to hear the part where I bit the bastard's ear off.

"Who the hell played that!"

Alessio's face was thunderous.

The scene was just like years ago, when an assassin from a rival family held a knife to my throat.

He had thrown himself in front of me without a second thought, taking the blade for me.

In doing so, he had also ruined the escape route I had meticulously designed.

He sabotaged himself. He could have resolved the crisis without a scratch, but he chose to take the hit, to play the hero.

But this time, it was different.

Sofia stood up, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Alessio, I did it."

"Everyone calls Isabella a traitor. I just wanted to show them what she's been through, so they would feel sorry for her and stop blaming her."

"It's all my fault. If you're going to blame someone, blame me."