"Fine. It's just a ring. Change it if you want."

Damien looked stunned for a second, but relief quickly washed over his features at my easy compliance.

As if to compensate, his tone softened for a rare moment.

"How about this? You should come to the charity auction tomorrow, too."

"If you see anything you like, just bid on it. Consider it my way of making it up to you."

I was about to refuse, but before I could speak, Damien took a call and walked away.

He left me and Bianca standing there, face to face.

She looked at me, the gentle smile on her face instantly vanishing, replaced by a triumphant sneer.

"Elena, sometimes I almost feel sorry for you. It must be hard watching your husband with a different woman on his arm every day, isn't it?"

"You'd be better off showing some dignity and stepping aside sooner. Maybe then people would at least praise you for being considerate."

"After all, if it were me, I could never shamelessly cling to this place for eight years."

My expression remained placid, but my eyes were filled with scorn.

"You're picking up my cast-offs. Who gave you the nerve to speak to me like this?"

"Whatever happens, I am the Donna of the Luciano family. When did a cheap tramp like you earn the right to lecture me?"

"You'd be better off spending that energy on Damien. I've seen your type come and go. Don't be the last to realize when you've been discarded."

Bianca's face flushed crimson at my words.

I had no more words for her and turned on my heel, stalking into the guest room.

On the day of the auction, I arrived at the venue as planned.

Isabella's birthday was in a few days, and a Renaissance-era manuscript she adored was up for auction.

It would be my parting gift to her.

I had just taken my seat when a commotion erupted outside the door. I looked up and saw that familiar figure.

Damien strolled in, holding Bianca's hand, instantly drawing every eye in the room.

They looked at Bianca, then at me, their eyes filled with mockery.

Bianca stroked the dazzling diamond necklace around her neck, shooting a deliberate glance my way.

I feigned ignorance, my eyes fixed on the stage.

The moment the Renaissance manuscript was presented, I raised my paddle without hesitation.

The auctioneer saw my paddle and began the bidding.

"Two and a half million going once... going twice... sold to—"

Just as the auctioneer was about to finish, Bianca's paddle went up.

"Five million dollars!"

I turned to look in disbelief, only to see a triumphant Bianca and an indulgent Damien.

As the Don, Damien knew better than anyone that the manuscript wasn't worth that price.

But he showed no intention of stopping her. Instead, his eyes, as he looked at Bianca, were filled with pride.

That doting expression sent me back in time, to the first year we were together.

Damien had always been Chicago's most infamous playboy, a fixture at every high-society event.

But that first year, he was a changed man, dedicating himself to my happiness.

During the day, he would show me all over Chicago, and at night, he would whisk me away to auction houses.

I still remember the pride in his eyes the first time I mustered the courage to raise my paddle.

It was identical to the way he was looking at Bianca now.

Back then, I truly believed I was different.

Even though I'd long since given up on him, the memory laid over the present, tightening a bitter knot in my chest.

I forced my thoughts back to the present, watching numbly as the auctioneer prepared to slam the gavel down.

But just as the gavel was about to fall, the doors to the auction hall burst open.

A group of armed men rushed in, and the scene immediately descended into chaos.

"Dammit!"

Damien's face turned ashen as he quickly shielded Bianca.

The intruders were from the rival Gallo family. The surprise attack threw the entire auction into disarray.

Once the gunfire subsided, Bianca pointed at me, crying.

"Elena, it had to be her! She resents me for buying the manuscript, so she leaked your whereabouts to the Gallo family!"

"She just wants to get back at us!"

Hearing this, Damien's head snapped toward me, his eyes filled with endless disappointment and fury.

"Elena, how could you be so stupid?"

"Betraying me over a worthless manuscript? Do you have any idea what this means?"

"Let me tell you, Elena, if you can't handle being the Donna, plenty of others are lining up for the position!"

The coldness in his eyes made me feel even more numb.

Betrayal?

In every argument we had over these eight years, he had never once believed me.

It was as if the moment someone accused me, he would unhesitatingly stand on the other side.

"Fine. Since you think I betrayed you."

"Then let's get a divorce. You can give your Donna's position to whoever you want."

Damien's face was a mask of disbelief. Just as he recovered and was about to say something, Bianca grabbed my hand.

"Elena, I'm sorry, it's all my fault. You can hit me, you can yell at me, just please don't take it out on Damien. He's under so much pressure..."

I looked at her, confused, trying to figure out what she was up to.

But in the next second, Bianca, who had been sobbing, suddenly lifted my hand.

In an instant, she slammed herself into the corner of a nearby table, crumpled to the floor, and let out a horrified scream, clutching her forehead.

"Elena, I was wrong! I'll listen to you and never see Damien again! Please, please don't hit me anymore..."

"You're right, a girl from the gutter like me is no match for you. I should have accepted my place sooner."

At her words, Damien violently shoved me aside and helped Bianca, who was now bleeding from her forehead.

A stark, bloody gash marred her once-smooth skin.

Damien's voice grew even colder.

"What did she do to you?"

Bianca looked at me with a terrified expression, as if struggling to speak.

"Elena... she said if I kept seeing you, she would ruin my reputation..."

Damien turned to me, his eyes filled with an endless, chilling cold.

"Elena, it seems I've given you too much freedom over the years. So much that you've forgotten your place."

Scorn coiled in my gut, hot and bitter.

All explanations were now pointless. Damien wouldn't believe a word I said.

"Project the photos from my phone. Today, I'm hosting a private exhibition for my dear wife."

My blood ran cold, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Sure enough, when I looked up again, my photos were on the large screen.

Intimate photos—stolen moments of vulnerability, suggestive poses—flashed across the screen. A wave of shocked whispers rippled through the crowd.

In the early days when Damien and I were deeply in love, he had coaxed me into taking many photos.

He said he would treasure them forever, but now he had turned that past sweetness into a sharp blade pointed straight at me.

I struggled, grabbing his arm, trying to bring him back to his senses.

"Damien, it wasn't me!"

But Damien shoved me away without a second thought, pulling Bianca protectively behind him.

"Hold her."

I was restrained by his men, forced to watch in despair as my most intimate moments were displayed one by one, too numb to even cry.

The surrounding whispers and laughter nearly drowned me.

Finally, the head of the rival family, Luca Gallo, shouted out.

"For one dollar, I'll buy all of Mrs. Luciano!"