"Very well, Miss Rossi. One more thing—should the documents your mother left be put into effect?"

When my mother was gravely ill, she quietly told me she had arranged an escape route for me.

Perhaps even then, she had foreseen today.

"Put them into effect."

"Understood. Seventy-two percent of your family assets will be transferred to your name within three days."

I hung up the phone, my chest heavy, as if stuffed with a wet sponge. Half-awake, half-dreaming, I recalled the year my mother died.

Father had cried until he vomited blood. He said that after being injured in that shootout, he accidentally took hallucinogens and ended up in bed with a prostitute. He claimed she ran off before he woke, and he didn't know she had a daughter. He certainly didn't imagine that the child would find her mother's hospital room and beg for a way out.

My mother had just undergone major surgery. The shock alone caused her to hemorrhage—she died from the stress. I had returned home excitedly, holding flowers to celebrate her discharge. Instead, I found only a coffin.

I had gone completely mad that day.

It was Riccardo who healed me, again and again. "Lia, your mother is in heaven. She would never want to see you like this."

His words had been my lifeline.

Looking back now, I realize it was all part of the scheme from the start.

My phone kept buzzing, shaking me awake. Anonymous photos appeared, one after another.

In each, Riccardo held Lina in his arms, kissing her passionately while his friends cheered behind them. They were playing cards in a casino. Lina, dressed in a bunny costume, straddled his lap.

"Lia, you know why he always likes to take you from behind? Because he said it himself. From the front, you're only seventy percent like me. From the back… ninety percent. You're a pathetic substitute."

I think I knew who the mysterious sender was. Lina's disgusting words churned my stomach, and I bent over the sink, retching.

Riccardo, just arriving home, heard me and rushed in.

"Lia! Take deep breaths. Why is it so bad? You didn't eat last night, did you?"

I nodded weakly.

He helped me back onto the bed, rubbing my head. "Wait here."

Soon, he returned with a bowl of seafood soup.

"Drink a little, hmm?" He blew on a spoonful and held it toward me, eyes bright with expectation.

It was the same dish he had once prepared for me, the one he knew I would always drink a few spoonfuls of.

Seeing my indifference, he was uncharacteristically at a loss.

A surge of irritation rose in me. Both he and my father—after everything they had done to hurt me—still acted like they were indulging me, like they were sacrificing for me!

"Riccardo," I said suddenly, "tell me… is there something you've been hiding from me?"

Panic flickered in Riccardo's eyes.

"What? That's nonsense! You are the love of my life."

He said it so naturally.

Seeing the change in my expression, he leaned closer, scrutinizing me. Then, as if realizing something, he laughed.

"Ah… my little wildcat is throwing a tantrum again? Just say you want me to comfort you," he teased, moving in for a kiss.

I turned my head instinctively. "Don't touch me!"

Even someone as oblivious as him could sense something was wrong. He straightened slowly, staring at me.

"Lia… you've been off since yesterday…"

A rapid knock at the door cut him off.

"Don… Li… uh, there's trouble up north!"

"Leave! Don't you see the Madre needs me?" he barked at his assistant, though his eyes flickered constantly toward his lit phone.

I spoke coldly, "Go ahead. Don't let it delay your… serious matters."

"There's nothing more important than keeping you calm. Sleep, I'll stay with you."

But once he confirmed I was "asleep," he was gone in a flash.

Two hours later, my phone lit up.

Last time, Lina had sent memories. This time, she sent evidence of what had already happened: photos of Riccardo's scarred, muscular abdomen, and a leather whip on the sheets.

Her voice message was full of triumph.

"Sis… since you got pregnant, he hasn't touched you, right? Afraid of hurting the baby? Well, guess what? I'm pregnant too, and the moment he saw me, he started stripping me. Now he's exhausted and asleep. Oh, and we're naming our child Alexander—the firstborn name set by the Colombo family."

She even sent a photo of their hands intertwined—a tattoo on their wrists: two lilies that only completed the full flower when joined. Below it, in flowing script: 'My beloved Lily.'

At last, I understood. The night of our wedding, when I kissed that line over and over, moved to tears, that flicker of guilt in his eyes—it wasn't for me. For the past three years, every tender "Lily" he whispered had been for another.

I had been living a colossal lie, a cruel joke.

I opened my phone and found the message from someone I hadn't contacted in ages.

[I agree to your proposal. But can you do one thing for me?]

He replied instantly, as if he had been waiting a long time: [Of course, my queen.]

I couldn't get a proper rest.

Just as I drifted off, the noise downstairs jolted me awake. I buried myself under the covers, my head splitting with pain.

But the maid kept knocking.

"Miss, are you awake? Don Rossi insists on hosting a birthday party for you."

Since my birthday coincided with my mother's death anniversary, I hadn't celebrated for years.

What was he thinking?

I went downstairs. The hall was packed with Mafia family heads. I scanned the room, and my eyes froze. Every photo of my mother on the walls had been replaced with portraits of Rosa and her daughter.

The butler hurried to explain.

"Your father said there's something he wants to tell you, Miss…"

I let out a bitter laugh. So, after scheming behind my back, they now had the nerve to confront me face-to-face.

Guests whispered among themselves.

"Did you hear? All the Rossi family's northern casino holdings were transferred to Rosa's name."

"Tsk, tsk… all the legitimate wife's property, and in the end, it goes to a prostitute."

"Shh! She's officially the Madre now."

Rosa leaned against my father's shoulder, offering me a fake, saccharine smile.

"Lia, let bygones be bygones. From now on, I'm your mother. I'll take care of you better than Maria ever did."

"Ha!" I laughed sharply. "And just who do you think you are, trying to replace my mother?"

Rosa's eyes instantly reddened, and she looked to my father.

My father hadn't expected me to publicly shame him; his face darkened.

"Lia, I know this is hard for you to accept, but so much time has passed. Have some compassion for your father—I need someone by my side too."

My eyes burned red, the words "Today is mother's death anniversary" caught in my throat.

He tried to smooth things over. "Enough, let's leave it for today. We'll talk when we get home."

Before he could finish, Lina and Riccardo appeared together.

"Happy birthday, my dear Lily," Riccardo said, offering a red gift box with tender formality.

"Good heavens! That's the exclusive Blood Rose packaging from Christie's!" a guest gasped. "A mysterious buyer paid a fortune last month. Turns out it was Don Colombo! What a romantic scene! Lia is unbelievably lucky!"

I didn't care. Priceless treasures, a doting Don—none of it mattered.

My gaze locked on the aquamarine hairpiece atop Lina's head. It had been my mother's final gift, a piece she personally designed for my coming-of-age ceremony. But I never got to have her place it on me.

"Take it off," I rasped.

Lina's eyes immediately reddened. She shrank behind Riccardo.

Riccardo's tone was gentle but firm.

"Lia, don't make a scene. That style is old-fashioned anyway. Tomorrow, I'll make you a bigger, better one. Let Lina play with this—it's just one of your many jewels."

But I heard nothing. I lunged straight at Lina.

"Give it back!"

He caught me in his arms, his voice darkening.

"You're being reckless! Can't you behave for once?"

"Don't blame her—it's all my fault!" Lina screamed, ripping the hairpiece from her head and flinging it to the floor. The gem rolled across the marble, and she stomped on it like a madwoman. "I'll do it myself! I don't need your help!"

The same cruel game I had known since school: provoke me, make me lose control, then play the victim so everyone believed I was the villain.

The guests murmured in shock.

"I used to think the illegitimate daughter was detestable, but Lia is far crueler. Now that Lina is legitimate, how can she be treated like this?"

Lina cried until she nearly collapsed.

Riccardo held her tightly, and for the first time, he scolded me sharply.

"Lia! Apologize to Lina!"