Sienna’s smirk faltered for just a second, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. She had been expecting an outburst, a reaction, maybe even tears. But all she got was my cold indifference.

Lorenzo gaze shifted between us, his expression unreadable, but I wasn’t stupid. He was waiting to see if I would break.

I didn’t.

Instead, I turned on my heel and left the dining hall, my heels clicking against the marble floors of the penthouse. Every step away from them felt like peeling off a heavy chain.

A week. Just one more week and I would be free.

I locked myself in my room, scrolling through rental listings on my phone, weighing my options. I would have to be careful. Lorenzo had eyes everywhere in this city. The moment I left, I needed to disappear, or he’d find me before I even had a chance to take my first breath of freedom.

A knock at the door shattered my focus.

“I need to head to the club,” Lorenzo said from the doorway, his tone all business. “Sienna is staying here. You’ll keep an eye on her.”

I glanced up at him, raising a brow. “Am I a maid now? Or a babysitter?”

Lorenzo jaw tensed. He wasn’t used to me questioning him. For seven years, I had followed orders without a fight. But now? I had nothing to lose.

His voice dropped lower, colder. “Valentina, don’t forget who put a roof over your head.”

Ah, there it was. The display that I was nothing but a kept woman, a liability to him.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I said smoothly, forcing a smile. “I’ll make sure your little princess doesn’t trip over her own feet.”

Lorenzo’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned toward Sienna, who was standing behind him in the hallway, dressed in one of his shirts like she owned the place.

“I’ll be back soon,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “Be good.”

Sienna beamed up at him like a perfect little doll, her fingers curling around his wrist. “I always am.”

I forced myself to look away. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

The moment the penthouse door shut behind him, the atmosphere shifted.

Sienna sauntered into the living room, plopping down onto the velvet sofa like a queen settling into her throne. “seven years,” she mused, stretching out her legs. “That’s how long you’ve been married to Sienna, right?”

I didn’t respond, only leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee.

She grinned, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “He told me he’s never touched you.”

I went still.

Sienna tossed her hair over one shoulder, revealing the fresh marks on her neck like battle scars. “What’s it like?” she continued, tilting her head. “To be married to a man for seven years and still be nothing more than a name on paper?”

I met her gaze head-on. “Better than being a temporary distraction.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second. But Sienna was good at recovering.

She sighed dramatically, running a hand over her neck. “You must’ve heard us last night, right? Sienna was making sure you could.” Her giggle was like nails on glass. “I almost feel bad for you. Twenty-six years old and untouched. At this rate, the only way you’ll ever be with a man is if you pay him first.”

I clenched my fingers around my coffee cup but refused to react. That’s what she wanted.

Sienna thrived on chaos.

She crossed her legs, her smirk widening. “No wonder Sienna is sick of you. Who would want a woman who just sits around all day like some forgotten relic?”

I sighed, setting my cup down with a soft clink. “Are we done?”

Sienna’s eyes flashed. She had expected me to break, to yell, to cry. Instead, I was treating her like she was nothing more than a buzzing mosquito.

And that? That pissed her off.

She pushed herself off the couch, sauntering into the kitchen. “Sienna will be so disappointed when he finds out you’ve been such a bad hostess.”

I ignored her. I had more important things to focus on—like making sure I had everything in place before I left this place for good.

That’s when I heard the soft clatter of a cup being placed on the counter.

“I want coffee.”

I glanced at her lazily. “Then make it.”

She gasped, clutching her chest like I had just slapped her. “My, my. Is that any way to treat your guest?”

I didn’t move.

Sienna’s lips curled into a smirk. “Fine. Be difficult.” She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured the coffee herself, but I saw the shift in her expression. The glint in her eyes.

Something was coming.

I turned away, but the next second—

CRASH.

A sharp cry pierced the air.

“Ah!” Sienna shrieked, her voice cracking with pain. “It hurts so much!”

The front door slammed open.

I barely had time to react before Sienna was storming into the kitchen, his eyes locking onto Sienna, who was now cradling her wrist, her eyes glistening with tears.

Lorenzo’s gaze snapped to me. “What the hell happened?”

Sienna’s bottom lip trembled as she held up her wrist, where a small, barely-there red mark was beginning to form.

“She… she spilled boiling water on me,” she whispered, her voice wavering just enough to sound convincing.

I inhaled sharply, my fists tightening at my sides. “That’s a lie.”

Lorenzo didn’t even look at me.

His expression darkened, his movements quick.

Before I could react, his hand came down hard against my cheek.

The force of it sent me crashing against the counter, my head snapping to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as a sharp sting burned across my face.

“You had one job,” Lorenzo growled, his voice dangerously low. “And you couldn’t even do that right.”

Sienna sniffled behind him, her act so well-crafted it would have fooled anyone who didn’t know better.

Lorenzo grabbed her wrist gently, his anger shifting into concern. “Come on, let’s get this looked at.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving me on the cold kitchen floor, my vision blurring, my nightgown soaked with scalding water.

I lifted the hem slightly, staring at the red welts forming on my thighs.

A painful display.

One more week.

Just one more week.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers curled so tightly around the sheets that my knuckles turned white. My whole body felt cold. Empty. I couldn't remember the last time I felt warm, really warm, like the kind of warmth that settled inside your bones and made you feel safe.

Maybe I never had.

I stared at the clock on the wall. The hands moved forward, second by second, dragging time with them. But my life wasn’t moving. I was stuck. Trapped in this house. Trapped in his world.

Lorenzo wasn’t home.

He wouldn’t be for hours.

I knew where he was. I wasn’t stupid, no matter how much he wanted to believe I was. I knew whose bed he was in. I knew the perfume that clung to his shirts when he came home late. The faint smudges of lipstick near his collar. The way he never even tried to hide it.

Because he didn’t have to.

Because he knew I wouldn’t leave.

Because I had nowhere to go.

I pressed a hand against my stomach, forcing down the sickness rising in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry again. Not tonight.

I had wasted too many tears.

My phone lay beside me on the bed. The screen was dark, but I could feel it, waiting. A single object, so small and harmless, but right now, it felt like everything.

I reached for it. My fingers hovered over the screen.

I opened my messages. Typed out a name.

Dante Romano.

It had been years since I last spoke to him. Lorenzo used to mention him sometimes, back when they still worked together. Then Dante vanished. No one said why. But I heard rumors. Whispers.

Dante made people disappear.

He was a ghost. A fixer. A man who knew how to erase everything—money trails, identities, pasts.

People trusted him. People feared him.

And right now, I needed him.

I typed the words before I could second-guess myself.

I need help.

I stared at the screen, heart pounding. I half-expected nothing. Silence. Maybe even an old, disconnected number.

But then—

Three dots appeared.

My breath caught.

Then a message.

Where are you?

I swallowed hard. My fingers shook.

Not safe. Can’t talk now.

A long pause. I held my breath.

Then—

Tomorrow. Midnight. The old place.

I let out a slow, shaky breath. My chest felt tight. My hands were numb.

This was it. The first step.

And I wasn’t going to stop now.

---

Later that night, I heard them.

Voices. Soft, but not too soft. They weren’t hiding. They never did.

I crept to the top of the stairs. My fingers gripped the banister as I peeked down.

Sienna sat on the couch, legs crossed, holding a glass of red wine. She swirled it in her hand, watching the liquid catch the dim light.

Lorenzo stood beside her. His jacket was tossed over a chair. He looked relaxed. Comfortable.

I stayed in the shadows. Just listening.

“She’s pathetic, Lorenzo,” Sienna said, amusement thick in her voice. “Still waiting around like a lost puppy. It’s actually sad.”

I clenched my teeth.

“She’s convenient,” Lorenzo muttered. His voice was cold. Flat. Like I wasn’t even a person. “For now.”

Sienna laughed. A soft, cruel sound. “You should get rid of her. She’s a waste of space.”

I waited. Just for a second. Just to see if he’d disagree.

If he’d defend me. If he’d say something—anything—that meant I still mattered.

But he didn’t.

He just sighed. Bored.

“She doesn’t matter,” he said simply. “She never did.”

Something inside me snapped.

Not loudly. Not in a way anyone could hear.

But I felt it. A sharp, clean break.

I turned away. Walked back to the bedroom. Shut the door behind me.

My hands were steady. My heart was not.

I sat on the bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror.

I had lived in this house for years. I had loved him for years. Given up pieces of myself, little by little, hoping it would be enough.

It never was.

And it never would be.

I had let this happen to me.

I had let myself believe that if I just stayed, if I just tried harder, if I just loved him enough, he would love me back.

But Lorenzo would never love me.

Not the way I wanted. Not the way I deserved.

I would not be a doormat anymore.

I stood.

I was leaving.

For the first time in my life—I was leaving.

And I wasn’t looking back.

I arrived at the old café at exactly midnight. The streets outside were dark, the occasional car passing by, but there was no one else around. It felt almost too quiet, like the city was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

I stood in front of the door for a moment, unsure whether I was ready. Ready to do what? Leave everything behind? Escape? Was I really going to go through with it?

I walked inside.

The café smelled like old coffee and stale pastries, the kind of place you’d expect to find people who were hiding, or people who had already disappeared. A small bell jingled as I entered, and I immediately saw him. Dante Romano.

He was sitting in the back corner, the dim light from the overhead lamp casting shadows across his sharp features. His face looked older than I remembered, but there was still something about him. Something familiar. Something that made my heart skip in my chest.

Dante stood as I approached. His eyes were cold, calculating, but not unfriendly. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Laura,” he said, his voice smooth, low. “You came.”

“I said I would,” I replied, sitting down across from him. My hands were shaking, but I clenched them into fists under the table. I wasn’t going to let him see how terrified I was.

He raised an eyebrow, watching me closely. “You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

Dante leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He stared at me for a long moment, as if deciding if I was serious. Then, he spoke again.

“Escaping Lorenzo DeLuca isn’t just about running away,” he said. “It’s about disappearing. He has resources. People watching you. And he won’t let you go without a fight.”

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. “I’m ready for that. I don’t care what it takes. I just need to get out.”

Dante didn’t answer right away. He was studying me, his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t just looking at me; he was trying to read me. Trying to figure out if I was really committed to this, if I was desperate enough to go through with it.

“Do you have money?” he asked finally.

I nodded. “A little.” I didn’t have much, but I had some cash hidden away. It wasn’t enough to disappear completely, but it was a start.

“Good,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “You’ll need more. A lot more. This isn’t a free ride.”

“I understand,” I said, my voice steady.

“You’ll need new identities. I can get you one, but it’ll cost you. You’ll need connections too—people who won’t ask questions. People who can help you get out of this mess.”

I looked down at my hands, my mind racing. I didn’t have connections. I didn’t have anyone except Dante now.

But I wasn’t going to back out. Not now.

“What do I need to do?” I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

Dante’s lips curled into a slight smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “First, you’ll need to get your hands on more money. I can’t help you if you don’t have enough to get away. Then we’ll get you a new identity. Something clean. Something nobody can trace back to you.”

I nodded again, taking in his words. Every part of me wanted to ask about the process, to know how exactly he was going to make it happen, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to know. I just needed it done.

“You’ll have to trust me,” Dante added, his tone serious. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you. You’ll be in danger. And so will I, to some extent. You won’t be able to go back after this.”

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the kind of danger he was talking about. But there was no turning back. I had already made my decision.

“I’m ready,” I said, my voice steady now.

Dante studied me again. It felt like he was reading me, like he knew everything I was thinking.

“There’s something familiar about you,” he said after a long pause.

My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure if I liked the way he was looking at me, like he was trying to figure something out. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and it made my skin prickle.

“I don’t know why,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dante’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at me as if weighing something in his mind.

“I think I’ve seen you before,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful. “But I can’t place where.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was from his words or the way he was looking at me. I didn’t know what to make of it.

“I don’t think so,” I said quickly, my voice suddenly tight. “I’ve never met you before.”

Dante didn’t respond, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. The silence stretched out between us, thick and heavy.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. What was this feeling? Why did it feel like Dante knew more than he was letting on? Was I imagining things?

But I couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. I needed to focus. I had a plan.

“I’ll do what it takes,” I said, breaking the silence. “I just need to get out of here.”

Dante nodded. “Alright. We’ll get you out. But remember, this won’t be easy. You’ll need to stay focused, stay sharp.”

“I will,” I replied, my voice steady.

He stood up then, signaling the end of our conversation. “Get some sleep. You’ll need it. I’ll contact you soon. We’ll begin working on the plan.”

I stood as well, my heart beating faster now. A mix of fear and anticipation swirled inside me.

“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice catching in my throat.

Dante gave me a small nod. “Don’t thank me yet.”

I walked out of the café, my mind racing. I was one step closer to freedom. One step closer to escaping Lorenzo. But there was a lot left to do, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to handle what was coming.

But I had no choice.

I couldn’t go back.

I wouldn’t.