Reginald didn't come home.

But I slept soundly.

For the first time in three years.

As morning light filled the room, I started packing.

Jewelry, gowns, skincare—all the expensive things that once defined Rosabella Rossi.

I picked up a diamond necklace. Reginald's gift for my twenty-first birthday.

I used to treasure it. Now it just felt heavy.

The room was exactly as I'd left it three years ago.

Reginald hadn't even moved my things.

Was it sentimentality? Or guilt?

"Ma'am, the Boss wants you downstairs," Marco, the butler, said through the door. "Mr. Rossi is here."

My father was here?

I changed into a simple black dress and walked downstairs.

In the living room, Magnus sat in the main armchair, his face a thundercloud.

My mother, Maria, stood behind him. Her eyes flickered with something complicated when she saw me.

Reginald sat across from them, looking exhausted.

And Leo was curled in a corner of the sofa, his eyes red and swollen.

It was the first time I'd seen my parents in three years. A lump formed in my throat.

The little girl who just wanted her parents' love seemed to resurface. "Papa, Mama..." I started, my voice strained.

"Rosabella." Magnus's voice was ice. "What did you do last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Leo told us," Magnus’s voice was dangerously low. "He said you locked him in the ice cellar for three hours. For revenge."

The accusation hung in the air, so absurd I couldn't even breathe.

"I did not."

"Leo doesn't lie," Reginald said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He wouldn't even look at me. "He cried all night. Said he was cold and terrified."

I looked at Leo. The three-year-old boy was staring at me with pure terror in his eyes.

Such good acting. He really was Felicia's student.

"I was in my room all night," I said calmly. "Reginald was not."

"Reginald didn't come to your room last night," my mother said suddenly, her voice soft. "He was in his study all night."

The air froze.

Reginald looked away.

"A child doesn't lie for no reason," Magnus said, standing up. "Rosabella, I know you're angry, but Leo is, after all..."

He stopped.

"After all, what?" I laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "Say it, Father. After all, what?"

Reginald shifted uncomfortably.

"The family heir?" I pushed. "You can't even say the words 'Leo is my son' anymore, can you?"

"Enough!" Magnus roared. "Will you ever learn?"

He gave a hand signal.

Two of his men stepped forward.

"Administer the family punishment."

"What?" Reginald shot to his feet. "Don Magnus, this is not—"

"She needs to learn a lesson," Magnus said coldly. "Take her to the discipline room."

"No." Reginald stood in front of me. "Rosabella, just apologize. And this will be over."

Apologize?

For something I didn't do?

I looked at Reginald, the man who once promised to protect me for the rest of his life.

"I didn't do it." I pushed past him. "If you've got the guts, just kill me."

Reginald stared at me, shocked.

"Rosabella—"

But the two men had already grabbed me, dragging me toward the basement.

In the discipline room, I was forced onto the bench.

Cold leather straps were fastened around my wrists.

"Twenty lashes," Magnus's voice came from the doorway. "Teach her a lesson."

The whip cracked through the stale air.

A line of fire seared across my back.

I bit down on my lip, hard enough to taste blood. I would not give them the satisfaction of a scream.

The second lash.

The third.

Blood soaked through my dress.

But I would not beg.

Three years in prison taught me that tears and pleading only bring more humiliation.

By the tenth lash, my vision started to blur.

By the fifteenth, I was drifting.

No, I will not give in...

Just then, a small, tearful voice cried out.

"Stop hitting her!"

Leo ran in, his eyes full of tears.

"Papa! Don't hit her anymore!"

Reginald immediately rushed over.

"Stop!"

The man with the whip froze.

"Leo, how did you—"

"It... It was Mama who told me to say it!" Leo sobbed, out of breath. "She told me to go into the ice cellar by myself!"

Dead silence.

I used my last ounce of strength to lift my head. Reginald's face was sheet-white.

Magnus was frozen in place.

"I wasn't locked in!" Leo kept crying. "I lied! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The world started to spin.

The last thing I saw before I passed out was Reginald rushing toward me, his arms trembling as he caught me.

I woke up in my bedroom. The wounds on my back throbbed.

Reginald was sitting by the bed, his eyes bloodshot.

"You're awake." He reached for my forehead. "How do you feel?"

I flinched away from his touch.

"Is that proof enough?" My voice was a rasp. "My innocence?"

Reginald froze, then gave a bitter laugh.

"Rosabella, just stop," he sighed, the sound utterly exhausted. "Leo is three years old. He saw you getting whipped and panicked. He said it to save you. You should be thanking him."

Thank him? Thank him for framing me, then changing his story when he got scared?

I stared at Reginald, and the last flicker of warmth in my heart went out.

"You still don't believe me."

"It's not about believing you or not—"

"It is!" I pushed myself up, sucking in a breath as the wounds on my back tore. "No matter what the truth is, you will never, ever believe me!"

Reginald's face hardened.

"Fine. Let's say you're telling the truth." He stood up, pacing the room. "But you almost got Felicia killed when she was pregnant, and now you've terrified Leo—"

"I didn't terrify him!"

"Enough!" Reginald spun around. "What's past is past!"

He took a deep breath, sat back down on the bed, and tried to pull me into his arms.

"Rosabella, you will always be my cherished princess." His voice turned soft again, that magnetic tone he thought was so charming. "As long as you stop going after Felicia, we can start over. Just like before."

Start over?

In his mind, everything was my fault.

I was the vicious woman "going after" Felicia.

I was the sinner who needed to be "forgiven."

"Felicia lost her parents when she was young. Our family took her in," Reginald continued. "She needs protection more than you do. You need to learn to be more generous."

I was framed, thrown in prison for three years, had my son taken from me, and now I had to be generous?

"Rosabella?" Reginald waited. When I didn't answer, he asked, "Are you listening to me?"

I looked at him. I had nothing left to say.

This man would never get it.

In his heart, Felicia would always be the poor, helpless girl who needed saving.

And I would always be the villain. The vicious sister who had to step aside.

Reginald waited a bit longer, his face growing dark.

"I get it." He stood up, his tone turning cold and hard. "You're still angry with me."

He walked to the door, then turned back.

"I'm going to Felicia's gallery. She was terrified by what happened last night. She needs someone."

Was that a threat? Or a test?

"Go," I said calmly.

Reginald's pupils shrank. He clearly hadn't expected that.

The old me would have cried, screamed, done anything to stop him from seeing Felicia.

The new me was perfectly still.

"You really don't care?" His voice was laced with disbelief.

"Why should I?"

Reginald just stood there, his face getting darker and darker.

"Fine. Good." He let out a cold laugh. The door slammed shut behind him.

I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes.

A few hours later, I woke up to a series of texts.

Four of them. All from Felicia.

[You bitch, can't you see Reginald really loves me?]

[Why are you still fighting me for him? Didn't you suffer enough in prison?]

[He promised he was coming to my gallery. What did you do to stop him?]

[I'm going to show you who Reginald really cares about.]

I deleted the messages. It was all so pathetic.

What was she even trying to do?

The wounds on my back were still bleeding slightly. The painkillers made me drowsy.

My eyelids grew heavy. I fell into a deep sleep.

I don't know how long I was out before a piercing alarm went off.

I shot up in bed. The air was thick with smoke.

Acrid, choking smoke.

I jumped out of bed and saw the orange glow of fire painting the sky outside my window.

The manor was on fire.

No, just my wing. The east wing.

"Damn it!"

I raced to the door, grabbing the handle. The metal was already hot. I twisted.

It wouldn't budge.

I peered through the crack. A flaming beam had collapsed, barricading the door. Trapping me.

"Reginald!" I pounded on the door. "Reginald! Help!"

I could hear chaos downstairs. Footsteps, shouting.

"Boss! Miss Felicia is trapped in the living room!"

"Quick! Get the fire extinguishers!"

"The west wing fire is under control!"

"What about the east wing?"

"The east wing is too dangerous! The whole thing's about to collapse!"

I kept pounding.

"Reginald! I'm in here! I'm trapped!"

My voice was weak, lost in the smoke.

Then, I heard my father’s voice, raw with panic. "Reginald, please! Get Felicia! Save her first!"

"Reginald..." My call was a choked whisper, eaten by the smoke.

Silence.

Then, footsteps. Hurrying away from me. Toward her.

The smoke grew thicker. I started coughing violently.

Flames were licking the edges of the room. The carpet caught fire.

I finally understood.

Felicia was behind this.

She wanted to show me who Reginald would save when it was a matter of life and death.

The room was getting hotter. My lungs felt like they were on fire.

As the flames reached the bed, I grabbed the crystal vase from the nightstand and threw it at the floor-to-ceiling window.

The sound of shattering glass was tiny against the roar of the fire.

Cold air rushed in, giving me a moment's relief from the smoke.

I carefully crawled toward the edge of the balcony.

Reginald’s POV

I carried Felicia out of the living room. She clung to my neck, her body trembling.

"It's okay." I set her down on the safety of the lawn. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Felicia shook her head, tears in her eyes. "Reginald, thank you."

I looked at the east wing, still burning, and my heart seized.

"Rosabella."

I turned to run back in.

"Reginald!" Don Magnus grabbed my arm. "Are you crazy? The east wing is about to collapse!"

"Let go of me!" I shook him off. "Rosabella is still in there!"

"If you die, what about Leo? What about Felicia?" Magnus held on tight. "What about the family?"

"What about Rosabella?" I yelled at the old man, the first time I'd ever raised my voice to him. "Isn't she your daughter?!"

Magnus froze.

Just then—

SPLASH!

A huge splash came from the other side of the manor.

We all turned. Someone had jumped into the fountain.

My blood ran cold.

"Rosabella!"

I ran, not caring about anything else.

—

Rosabella’s POV

The cold water swallowed me. The impact knocked me out instantly.

The last thing I heard was Reginald’s guttural scream.

"Rosabella!"

But he was too late.

I woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of a machine. Reginald was slumped in a chair by the bed.

His suit was creased, his hair a wreck. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion. He looked… broken.

He shot up when my eyes fluttered open. "You're awake," he breathed, his voice raw. "Rosabella. How do you feel?"

"Where's Felicia?" I asked.

"She's fine." Reginald took my hand. "Why didn't you wait for me to save you?"

I just looked at him. The question was a joke.

"Were you?" I pressed, my voice flat. "If you could only save one of us. Me, or Felicia. Who would you have chosen?"

The silence that followed was louder than the fire. He couldn't even look at me.

He didn't have to. We both knew the answer.

"Rosabella... I..."

"Forget it." I closed my eyes. "I'm tired."

Reginald didn't leave.

For the next few days, he never left my side.

He fed me my medicine, changed my bandages, and even helped me with my physical therapy.

It was just like when we were first married.

Back then, it was just the two of us.

No Felicia, no family drama, no betrayals and lies. Just Reginald and me.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, stroking my forehead.

"No."

"Liar." His eyes were full of apology. "It's all my fault."

Is it?

You're finally admitting it? But I said nothing.

A week later, the doctor said I could go home.

Reginald came to pick me up himself.

"Let's go home," he said, starting the car.

Home. Was that place still my home?

Halfway there, Reginald's phone rang.

"What? Felicia's at the docks?" He frowned. "What's she doing in a place like that alone?"

The dockyards were one of the most dangerous parts of Chicago.

Rival gangs, turf wars, frequent shootouts.

"She's in trouble?" His voice got tense. "Okay, I'm on my way."

He hung up and pulled the car over.

"Rosabella, I have to go to the docks."

"Now?"

"Felicia's in trouble." Reginald unbuckled his seatbelt. "You go on home. I'll have a driver come get you."

He was going to leave me here?

I looked around.

He’d left me on the South Side. At dusk. The streets were deserted, windows barred like vacant eyes. This wasn't just a bad neighborhood; this was enemy territory.

"Reginald, this area is—"

"I'm sorry, it's an emergency." He was already out of the car. "The driver will be here any minute."

Thump.

The car door closed. The engine roared and faded away.

Leaving me alone on an empty street.

The wind was cold. It made my wounds ache.

I waited for thirty minutes. No driver came.

I took out my phone. No signal. I laughed at myself.

I was just glad I was leaving soon. I wouldn't have to put up with this anymore.

It took me almost two hours to walk back. Thankfully, I didn't run into any trouble.

It was ten o'clock by the time I got back to the manor.

The living room was quiet. Looked like no one was home.

I started for the stairs but heard voices coming from the study.

Reginald's voice.

"Felicia, why did you lie? There were no rival families at the docks. Why did you make me go there?"

Felicia burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Reginald, you've changed." Her voice was full of hurt. "Ever since Rosabella came back, you don't care about me anymore."

"Felicia, she's my wife. I have to love and protect her..."

"But you used to love me!" Felicia cried harder. "You only went after her because of our bet, to protect me! Have you forgotten?!"

A bomb went off in my head.

My mind went completely blank.

I froze, unable to believe what I just heard.