"Give it back to me, Aria!" I reached out to snatch it back, but she deliberately tore the acceptance letter into shreds right in front of my eyes.

At long last, I snapped. I lunged forward and slapped her hard across the face.

But she wasn't upset. Instead, she slowly turned her head back around and smiled at someone behind me.

I went rigid. Slowly, I followed the direction of her gaze.

Federico was standing at the entrance. There was no telling how long he had been there. His expression was terrifyingly dark as his gaze swept across the shredded paper on the floor before finally settling on my face.

I parted my lips, but my throat felt unbearably tight. "She was the one who—"

"That's enough!" he cut me off coldly. He didn't ask what that piece of paper was, nor did he ask why she was in my room. He merely spared me a single glance before calling his soldatos over. "Lock her in the disciplinary chamber."

I stood frozen in place, staring at him in utter disbelief. There were no torture devices in the disciplinary chamber, only a single bed, a desk, and a solitary light that stayed on through the night. Federico didn't let anyone lay a finger on me, but he didn't let me out, either.

For the first two days, I found myself staring blankly at that heavy door, wondering if he would show up, thinking that surely, he would at least demand an explanation. Yet, every single time that door was pushed open, the one who walked in was Aria, showing off the new necklace Federico had given her and the glaring hickey on her neck. She watched me like a hawk, eager to catch a stray emotion on my face, but I remained stoic.

Roughly three days later, my confinement finally ended. Federico had come to pick me up in person.

He didn't apologize, and I didn't question him either. I simply pulled open the car door in silence.

Then, I came face-to-face with Aria, who was seated in the passenger seat, flashing me a smile. I had genuinely believed my heart was completely numb, but in that fraction of a second, it still twinged with a sharp ache.

My grip on the handle loosened. Knowing my place, I took a seat in the back.

On the way home, Aria kept striking up conversations with Federico in a coquettish tone. I simply leaned my head against the window, staring out at the passing scenery in silence.

Just then, a deafening blast shattered the air up ahead. The very next second, the car windows shattered with a deafening crash.

Federico's expression changed drastically. Instinctively, he reached out and shielded Aria in the passenger seat, holding her tightly in his embrace.

I was in the back seat, and I didn't even have time to duck before a sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my shoulder. Right on its heels, a searing heat flared up along the side of my waist. In the blink of an eye, blood saturated my clothes.

The car veered wildly off course and slammed heavily into the guardrail. The brutal impact sent me flying across the seat. My head spun, and my world dissolved into a deafening, high-pitched ringing.

As my consciousness began to slip, I noticed Federico snap his head around, all the color instantly draining from his face. He reached out to hold me, and for the first time, I heard him fret, "Sera! Sera, wake up!"

I wanted to open my eyes, but my limbs felt heavy as lead, and my body refused to obey.

…

When I came to, I found myself in the hospital. I didn't cry or make a scene. I merely borrowed a nurse's phone and called my university.

Fortunately, it didn't matter if I lost the acceptance letter. As long as I showed up on time, I could still enroll. After hanging up, I quietly booked the earliest flight available.

On the day I was discharged, I didn't tell a soul. I went back, packed up my painting kit, grabbed my ID and sketches, and headed straight for the airport.

However, before I could even reach the security checkpoint, someone stopped me. I was yanked backward so hard that I staggered, and my painting kit tipped over at my feet. Brushes and tubes of paint spilled all over the floor, and beneath them all lay a military arms-dealing blueprint.

Federico's Underboss, Massimiliano Moscaritolo, raised his hand and tossed the blueprint onto the ground before me. "This covers our famiglia's most important operation next month. Every warehouse, route, and hand-off time is right here," he said lowly.

The color instantly drained from my face, and I instinctively explained, "It wasn't me! This isn't mine—"

"It's not yours?" he sneered, cutting me off. "We received a tip this afternoon that the mole is going to meet someone at the airport tonight with the blueprint, and you just happen to show up at the airport, and this exact document just happens to be found in your painting kit. What else do you have to say for yourself, Sera?"

With no way to clear my name, I looked up at Federico. But before I could utter a word, the Consigliere chimed in lowly, "You've already covered for her once after the incident at the docks. If you choose to protect her again, I'll have no choice but to wonder…"

He paused before shifting his solemn gaze to Federico. "Whether this woman is more important than our famiglia and whether our famiglia... can truly be left in your hands."

A suffocating silence fell over the room. I kept my eyes on Federico, clinging to the very last shred of hope in my heart.

At last, he broke the silence. His voice was deep and utterly devoid of emotion. "Cut off her limbs and exile her immediately."

At that moment, it felt as though I had been struck by a bolt from the blue.

Massimiliano immediately added, his tone uncompromising. "Anyone who has met with her in secret, relayed messages on her behalf, or helped her enter and leave the Leone residenza in the last six months will be expelled from the famiglia as well. From now on, her fate—whether she lives or dies—has absolutely nothing to do with us!"

I remained on my knees, a sharp ringing in my ears drowning out everything else.

All I could hear were distant sobs, pleas for mercy, and voices desperately calling out his name. Some of them were housekeepers who had taken care of me and people who had done nothing more than open a door for me once. Yet, in the blink of an eye, they had all become collateral damage.

Several of them relied on this job to feed their entire families, while others had spent half their lives serving the Leone famiglia, only to lose everything in the end because of me. The sight was too much to stomach. Using the last shred of my strength, I crawled to Federico's feet, begging him to spare them.

Yet, he ruthlessly threw my hands off him. I had never seen him this furious.

"Sera D'Angelo, I thought you would behave after my last warning, but you've just kept pushing the envelope!" The way he looked at me was a concoction of rage and disappointment. His voice, which was usually calm, was shaking now.

Then, he shot daggers at the soldatos, who were holding me down. "Leave us! Tonight, I'll punish this traitor myself!"

Once his soldatos left, I knelt on the floor in absolute despair, waiting for the hammer to fall. Yet, right then, Federico slowly pulled back the cabinet, revealing a hidden passage. I looked up in utter confusion.

With his back to me, he sounded utterly spent. "Get out of here. Next time, I won't protect you again."

After hearing that, I let out a derisive chuckle. When had he ever protected me?

Despondent, I rose to my feet and walked toward the secret passage, feeling his burning gaze on my back the entire time. Then, a loud thud echoed as the door sealed shut, plunging my world into darkness.

In the end, I still missed the enrollment deadline. I didn't follow Dad's footsteps. However, I became an underground artist just like him. The only difference was that he forged art, while I authenticated it.

So much time had passed since then, yet here I was, pulling up to the Leone residenza again. When we arrived, I didn't get out of the car. I simply sent Chiara to collect the painting.

It didn't take long for a few men to carry the piece out. Yet, the moment it was placed into my car, a familiar voice suddenly rang out from behind us. "What do you think you're doing?"