The pain didn't explode all at once.

It was like a silenced bullet had lodged in my heart, its poison slowly seeping into my blood.

Logically, a Falcone, raised in a world of violence, shouldn't be this fragile.

It was just betrayal, a common currency in our world.

But Nico was the one who made the first move.

I remembered the night he took me to the underground drag races.

The roar of the engines was like a beast's howl. I flew past the finish line in my modified McLaren, adrenaline burning through my veins.

So when he rushed over and kissed me, I didn't push him away.

That kiss was mixed with the metallic taste of blood from where I'd bitten his lip.

Gasping for air, I asked him over the roar, "Nico, what are we now?"

Nico's fingers brushed my blood-stained lips. "What else could we be, Principessa? We're going to conquer the world together."

And I really believed him. I thought this was his grand confession, that we'd soon be the most envied couple in the underworld.

The gamblers in the stands were roaring, the air electric, just like my foolish heart back then.

But now, with his own hands, Nico had crushed my dignity into dust.

I laughed, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Did he really think I was stupid enough to let him control me?

In the penthouse, the amethyst wind chimes swayed gently, as if trying to soothe me.

My shattered heart began to piece itself back together, reforged into something harder.

Nico was dead wrong.

He was just an illegitimate son from the declining Moretti family, desperate to climb the ladder. I am a blade forged by the Don of the Falcone family himself.

We were separated by blood and station. We never should have crossed paths.

The transfer request in my hand was wrinkled from my grip, the name of that bleak coastal town on it glaringly harsh.

When something is sullied, you dispose of it.

In the Falcone vocabulary, there is no such thing as "indispensable."

I flicked open my lighter, watched the form turn to ash, and then dialed the encrypted line to the family's Consigliere.

"Consigliere, I need you to change my flight plan."

"Not the outpost. I'm going to Sicily, straight to the Council."

"Yes. Alone."

I hung up. The wind chimes tinkled, crisp and clear, like a prophecy.

I closed my eyes, and the face that appeared in my mind was no longer Nico's hypocritical mask.

Instead, it was the face of a man who looked vaguely like Nico but with sharper, more intense features. He was smiling at me with the same knowing confidence as he had two years ago:

"Scarlett, you'll ditch him sooner or later. In this world, only you and I are the same kind of monster."

I thought he was joking at the time.

Now, I repeated the words to myself.

"Nico, you're out."

Just as I began to calm down, the biometric lock on the door beeped, flashing green.

The security for this penthouse was top tier. Besides me, only one other person had their iris scanned into the system.

The door opened.

Nico walked in, wearing the trench coat I'd given him. His tone was familiar, with a hint of reproach. "Scarlett, why aren't you answering your phone? Everyone's waiting for you."

I looked at him coldly. "I was handling something private."

Just as I was about to tell him to leave, a petite figure peeked out from behind him.

Chloe, like a startled fawn, clung to Nico's arm and gave a dramatic flinch the moment our eyes met.

Nico noticed immediately. He instinctively pulled her behind him, his brow furrowed.

"Scarlett, dial it back. You're scaring Chloe."

Here we go again.

At all those so-called "gatherings with the guys," she always pulls this pitiful act, making me look like the aggressive, wicked villain.

My gaze swept over Chloe's cheap heels, and my voice dropped to a freezing point. "Who gave you permission to bring an outsider into my apartment?"

Nico's displeasure was written all over his face. "Chloe is not an outsider."

"She heard you weren't feeling well and insisted on coming to check on you."

Before I could speak, Chloe's eyes were already red-rimmed. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, yet just loud enough for us both to hear:

"I'm sorry, Miss Scarlett. I know my station is... humble... I'm not worthy of stepping on your carpets..."

She bit her lip, tears welling up on command. "But I was just worried because Nico was worried about you. I'll leave right now, I won't dirty the place."

Every word was a calculated tug on Nico's protective instincts.

He shot me a look, his eyes filled with disappointment and accusation. "Scarlett, that's too harsh. Chloe might not have your background, but that doesn't make her worthless."

"The way you're treating her... I'm really disappointed in you."

Right on cue, Chloe tugged at Nico's sleeve, her understanding act flawless.

"Nico, don't. Miss Scarlett is your childhood sweetheart, and the family's princess. Someone like me should never have hoped to be her equal..."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Nico cupped her face, his voice so gentle it could melt butter. "From the moment you stood up for me at the club, you've been special to me."

When he turned back to me, his face instantly turned cold. "Chloe's upset. I'm going to take her home."

"You should take a good long look at yourself. And don't forget the transfer request needs to be stamped."

He wrapped his arm around Chloe and left, as if punishing me for my "impertinence."

The door closed.

I did take a good long look at myself.

I took a moment to reflect on how I could have been so blind for so many years.

I walked to the central console, and without a second's hesitation, I hit "Delete" on Nico's icon and ID as they popped up on the screen.

Then, I revoked all security permissions for the apartment, including the iris scan.

The rage that had been building inside me finally found a sliver of release.

The next morning, the family's Consigliere handed me a sealed manila envelope.

Inside was a new identity for my trip to Sicily and a clean flight permit.

Without a word to anyone.

As I walked out of the family's administrative building, someone suddenly blocked my path.

He frowned slightly. "Scarlett, did you change the codes to your apartment?"

"I went to find you right after I took Chloe home yesterday, but the system wouldn't let me in..."

I cut him off, my voice cold. "Yes, I did."

He looked a little annoyed, but then, as if nothing had happened, he asked gently, "What's the new code? I want to be able to come see you."

I said calmly, "That won't be necessary. The place will be empty once I'm gone anyway. It's more secure with new codes."

Nico glanced at the folder in my hand, feigning a sudden realization. "Oh, right. We're leaving soon. I've been so busy I almost forgot."

"Don't worry, Scarlett. I'll get the paperwork done tomorrow."

There were too many eyes and ears here. I turned and walked into the small family chapel next door.

Candles flickered beneath a large crucifix.

Nico followed me, his act so natural you'd never guess he was lying.

It occurred to me that I hadn't had a quiet, one-on-one conversation like this with Nico in a long time.

Ever since he brought Chloe back from the club, we'd barely had a moment alone.

I closed my eyes, deciding to give our relationship one last chance.

I looked at the statue of the Holy Mother and said softly, "Since when did we need to reassure each other?"

Nico clearly hadn't expected the question. After a long silence, he began abruptly, "Scarlett, the truth is..."

Before he could finish, a chirpy voice shattered the chapel's solemn silence.

"Oh, I knew I'd find you two here!"

Chloe appeared out of nowhere, hopping over to Nico's side like an innocent little rabbit.

She was holding an unfolded map, which she spread out on the prayer kneeler, pointing excitedly:

"Look, Nico! According to the plan, in two years, our smuggling routes can expand here, and here!"

I glanced down.

It was a map of the territories around that northern outpost.

Marked in red were not only the paltry resources meant for me, but also greedy notes about further expansion.

I couldn't lie to myself any longer. He was using my resources to plan a future with another woman.

A future without me.

I struggled to maintain my composure, but a bitterness spread through me like a shot of cheap liquor burning its way down.

I dug my nails into my palm, forcing myself to stay sharp. "You two seem busy. I'll be going."

Chloe acted as if she'd just noticed me, fumbling to hide the map in a way that only drew more attention to it.

"I'm sorry... Miss Scarlett, I didn't mean to interrupt."

As she spoke, her voice choked up again:

"I just wanted to help ease Nico's burden. I know I'm not worthy, that my background isn't good enough for a sacred place like this..."

I had no intention of playing along with her act. "Get out of my way," I said coldly.

The flicker of guilt in Nico's eyes vanished. He grabbed my wrist, his voice laced with anger.

"Scarlett, what's with that tone?"

"She stayed up all night studying routes to help me, and what do you do? Nothing but cause trouble, lock me out, and throw tantrums."

Without another word, he dragged me in front of Chloe. "You scared her. Apologize to her."

And Nico, this man who fancied himself so clever, was eating up her pathetic performance.

The last untouched corner of my heart silently crumbled into ruins.

I looked at Nico, and I smiled.

My smile seemed to unnerve him. His brow tightened. "What are you smiling at? I told you to apologize..."

Smack!

Without hesitation, I slapped Nico hard across the face.

His head snapped to the side, a red welt already forming on his cheek.

I rubbed my tingling palm, my voice dangerously soft. "Nico Moretti."

"You're the one who should be apologizing."

"But not to her. To me."

After that day, I started clearing out everything Nico had left behind over the years, one by one.

This gold-plated Desert Eagle was his "token of love" to me.

He once held my hand, tracing the engravings on the grip, and whispered passionately, "Scarlett, this was custom-molded for your hand. It's the only one in the world, and it's just for you."

But not long after, I saw an identical gun on Chloe's social media.

The caption read: "Nico says they're a matching set."

And then there were the missing cufflinks.

They were engraved with the ancient Falcone family crest, an honor given to me by my adoptive father on my eighteenth birthday.

Nico claimed he'd lost them.

Now, they were pinned to the cheap suit cuffs of Chloe's gambling-addict father, visible in the corner of a casino surveillance feed.

And the diamond earrings from my confirmation ceremony, the custom perfume...

Every honor I thought was mine alone had been cheaply replicated or tossed aside like trash to impress his low-rent friends.

I thought of how Nico doted on Chloe, indulging her every whim.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.

If that was the case, then none of these things were worth keeping.

I threw all those so-called gifts, along with their tainted memories, into a high-temperature furnace.

The molten metal was the final testament to his death in my heart.

At two in the morning, the private jet's engines were already warming up.

The encrypted satellite phone suddenly vibrated.

Half-asleep, I groggily answered it, only to be met with dead silence and the sound of breathing.

Just as I was about to hang up, Nico's voice came through, strained with anxiety.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry."

My mind snapped awake. If he was finally going to confess, I thought maybe I could...

Nico's heavy voice continued, "Chloe was slashed in the arm. She took a knife from a rival family for me."

The flicker of hope in my chest was extinguished, pathetic and absurd.

So he was escalating his little act?

"And?" I asked.

Nico's voice went on. "Apologize."

I thought I'd misheard. "What did you say?"

His voice was crystal clear. "Scarlett Falcone, you really should apologize to Chloe."

"Are you telling me her getting hurt had nothing to do with you?"

I was suddenly speechless.

Because I realized that in moments like these, every word I said would be wrong.

Between Chloe and me, he had never chosen me. I was always the one to be sacrificed.

Nico spoke again, his voice cold and sharp. "Scarlett, you are a real disappointment."

"Go to the Don right now, admit you were being childish, and then apologize to Chloe. We can still go back to how things were."

"You wouldn't want to break the alliance between the Falcone and Moretti families over a little tantrum, would you?"

He called me childish. He said I was throwing a tantrum.

He threatened me with my family name, held my position hostage.

But now, I no longer felt a shred of resentment or heartache. I just wanted to escape this suffocating mess.

Besides, there was one thing Nico always forgot.

I let out a soft laugh, my fingers tracing the cool glass of the jet's window.

"Nico, have you forgotten? The only reason that alliance exists is because I do."

Without waiting for a reply, I ended the call, took out the top-secret encryption chip, and snapped it between two fingers.

With a click, the chip broke in two. I tossed it carelessly into the trash.

Ten hours later.

The Sicilian sun was bright and intense, carrying the salty humidity of the Mediterranean.

On the private airstrip, my eyes met a man's deep gaze. "Scarlett. Long time no see."

His well-tailored suit was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing the faint outline of a tattoo on his collarbone, the mark of the true Moretti heir.

I extended a hand, my smile radiant. "It's good to see you, Vincent."

The ring of my personal cell phone interrupted our greeting.

I glanced at the screen. It was a call from Nico's right-hand man.

I answered, curious. Over a noisy background, Nico's voice came through, laced with panic:

"Scarlett, where the hell are you?"

"Why are all our contacts in the North saying they have no record of your arrival?"