To project an image of pure-hearted kindness, Lila Monroe, the Principessa of the Monroe crime family, had insisted on calling a girl from the slums like me her best friend.

When I was desperate, my father’s illness leaving me unable to afford my school fees, she dragged me in front of Dante Rossi with a dramatic flourish.

“Our Quinn is trying so hard. If you sponsor her, I’ll agree to be your girlfriend!”

The notoriously proud and aloof heir to the Rossi family looked up, his gaze flicking over me.

He snapped his fingers. “Deal.”

From that moment on, I became their inseparable shadow. Everyone would say:

“Quinn Avery, you’re so lucky to have a friend as kind as Lila.”

And I could only nod.

Even when, in private, she slapped me for wearing the wrong dress, or when I failed to take a drink for her and she shoved me toward a group of leering men.

I was still grateful for what she’d said that day, for changing my crumbling fate.

Riding their coattails, I landed a job at the Rossi family's real estate firm after college, climbing the ladder to an executive position in just three years.

Later, they had a terrible fight. Lila left the country and married someone else in a fit of pique, while Dante, on impulse, asked me to be his girlfriend.

He showered me with material things, and when my stomach ached, he’d rub it gently, his brow furrowed with concern.

But then, news came that Lila Monroe had divorced and was returning home.

Dante was lost in a daze for a long time. The first thing he said to me was, “Quinn, let’s break up.”

There was no surprise on my face. Instead, I breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Okay.”

————————

1

Dante Rossi’s attention was glued to his phone, his gaze locked on the post Lila Monroe had published half an hour ago.

“After three years, I’m back.”

The photo was a selfie taken on the city’s Central Bridge.

In a pristine white dress that highlighted her exquisite features, she looked like a swan princess gracing the mortal world, utterly untouched by it.

A complex, unreadable emotion flashed in Dante’s eyes.

His well-defined fingers tightened on the phone. I could feel the tension coiling in his body.

After all these years, no one knew him better than I did.

Dante Rossi had never gotten over her.

“Quinn.”

Seeing me silently packing my suitcase, Dante finally spoke.

“I was immature back then. Too young, too proud. That’s why Lila and I fought. She left and married someone else out of anger. These past few years… I’ve regretted it.”

His gaze fell on me, cold and distant.

But it was as if he were looking straight through me to someone else.

I nodded. “I know.”

The silence was awkward, so I added, “I don’t think Lila ever got over you, either. That’s why she’s back. I wish you two the best.”

“That’s not what I wanted to say.”

Dante frowned, cutting me off.

“I’m going to tell Lila how I feel—”

“Don’t let her know we dated. She has this thing about… romantic purity. Knowing we dated would bother her.”

As he said this, a flicker of guilt crossed his face, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

I lowered my gaze, forcing a bitter smile.

“I understand.”

Three years ago, Lila Monroe had fought tooth and nail with Dante Rossi over wanting a destination wedding.

Dante had insisted she stay close, where he could keep an eye on her.

Lila, however, felt he was suffocating her, tearfully screaming about breaking up and leaving the country.

Even I, standing beside them trying to mediate, thought it was just another one of their spats.

No one thought they were serious.

Two months after leaving, Lila hastily married a wealthy Chinese-American tycoon.

After hearing the news at a family dinner, Dante drank himself into a stupor.

He drunkenly pinned me against a corner, his lips crashing down on mine.

“Quinn Avery, be my girlfriend.”

His kiss was like whiskey, hot and sharp, setting my body on fire.

I was completely lost in him.

And I had no power to refuse.

But the next morning, a sobered-up Dante looked at me with visceral regret.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else last night.”

In that instant, the fragile hope in my heart shattered into ice.

It was obvious who that ‘someone else’ was.

I forced a smile. “I know. You were drunk. We can just pretend it never happened. You don’t have to take responsibility for me…”

But Dante Rossi was terrifyingly stubborn.

I avoided him for an entire week.

A week later, he cornered me downstairs from the office building, his expression grave.

“I’ve thought it over. Be my girlfriend.”

“Lila’s married. I need to move on.”

“And you know… I haven’t disliked you all these years.”

At that moment, I thought my years-long secret crush could finally step into the light, a real relationship I could claim as my own.

But I was wrong.

There’s a chasm between ‘not disliking’ someone and loving them—one I was learning was impossible to cross.

But I had long since made my peace with it.

After I started dating Dante, he would step in at social functions, saving me from drinks I didn't want.

He bought me countless luxuries.

He made sure a private car was always at my disposal.

But I knew I was just a stand-in, enjoying borrowed time and borrowed affection.

Now Lila Monroe was back.

It was time to return everything to its rightful owner.

Dante had bought this villa.

We had lived here for three years.

Here, Dante had pulled me into tireless, night-long embraces; we had waltzed here, kissing until the world melted away.

To celebrate my promotion, he had personally baked me a huge strawberry cake.

I had lain on this very sofa, head in his lap, as we talked about our days.

For a while, we were more like a normal couple than anyone.

But I always knew an invisible wall stood between us, one that had never crumbled.

Thank God it was all about to end.

Right now, I was busy erasing every trace of myself.

Stray hairs on the sheets, a hairpin in the bathroom, my cosmetics on the vanity…

Everything that was mine.

It all went into the suitcase or the trash.

I was ruthlessly efficient.

Dante Rossi seemed satisfied.

“Quinn, here’s a million dollars. Find a new place, get yourself settled.”

I shook my head, not taking the check.

“I’ll disappear from your world, Dante.”

“But I can’t take this money.”

Dante looked taken aback, a more complex emotion clouding his gaze.

I no longer had the energy to decipher it.

I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave.

But I should have known the world could be so damn small.

I had just stepped out of the villa’s main gate, suitcase in hand, when I came face-to-face with Lila Monroe.

Three years abroad had given her a more mature, fashionable air.

Her wide, beautiful eyes locked on me in shock. “Quinn Avery? What are you doing here?”

My mind went blank.

Before I could figure out what to say, Dante stepped out behind me.

“Lila, she was just dropping off some documents.”

Lila Monroe frowned, her sharp gaze landing on my suitcase.

“Dropping off documents… with a suitcase?”

Her eyes instantly reddened as she pinned Dante with a challenging glare.

“I heard rumors when I was away… that you and Quinn were together. Don’t tell me they were true?”

Tears welled in her exquisite eyes, making her look as if she might shatter.

Everyone in our circle knew Lila was a romantic purist.

Everyone knew this Principessa only dated men with no prior history.

She considered a hand that had touched another woman to be tainted.

If she found out the truth, Dante’s plan to win her back would be ruined, and he would never forgive me.

Thinking fast, I rushed to explain.

“Miss Lila, you’ve misunderstood. I just got back from a business trip, and Mr. Rossi had his secretary bring my luggage over.”

“His secretary is off today, so I had to bring it over myself. Mr. Rossi and I have a purely professional relationship.”

“Right, how could that be possible?”

Dante was getting anxious. He shot me a glare.

“Quinn Avery, get the hell out of here.”

I nodded, preparing for a hasty retreat.

“Stop!”

Lila’s gaze immediately snagged on the hickey on my neck. Her tone was laced with sour provocation.

“Quinn, when did you get a boyfriend? Why haven’t you brought him around for me to meet?”

“What, now that you’re a big-shot executive, you don’t consider me your best friend anymore?”

I shook my head. “Of course not.”

Dante stared at me, his nerves on a razor’s edge, terrified I’d say the wrong thing.

I gave a bitter smile and looked up, my voice earnest.

“I drank too much at a company dinner last night. You know I haven’t had a boyfriend for years, so… I went to a club. Hired an escort.”

I touched the red mark on my neck. “As for this…”

“He left it.”

Dante nearly choked, his eyes darting toward me.

The suspicion in Lila’s eyes faded slightly, but her gaze remained sharp, sizing me up.

“Really?”

Lila’s interest was suddenly piqued. “Which club? You should send me the details.”

“You have such high standards, I can’t imagine you approving of any man around here. I’ll have to go check him out myself.”

I randomly sent her a screenshot of a club’s business card, hoping to change the subject and escape.

Just when it seemed I was in the clear.

Lila grabbed my hand, her voice dripping with meaning.

“Quinn, since you’re here, don’t be a stranger. Come on in, stay for a bit.”

Dante gazed at her, his eyes full of adoration.

His normally stoic face was now a canvas of caution and nerves.

“Lila, I kept this villa because you once said you loved the location… you wanted it to be our home, after we were married.”

“I knew you hadn’t forgotten me. I knew you’d come back.”

Lila looked at him, her expression aggrieved, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry. I had such a terrible temper. I didn’t know how to compromise, and I lost you for three years because of it.”

“I regret it so much. You… you don’t mind that I was married, do you?”

“I don’t mind!”

Dante shook his head vehemently, his face a mask of devotion.

“I know you only married that man to spite me. I only saw the letter you wrote a few months ago… that’s when I understood everything.”

Lila’s eyes flickered away for a fraction of a second.

Then she smiled, rubbing her stomach. “I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?”

Dante shot up, eagerly rummaging through the fridge, pulling out all sorts of food.

Lila rejected every one.

She smiled and looked at me. “Quinn, I remember your pasta is delicious.”

“Since you’re here, and I haven’t had it in three years, why don’t you make a bowl for me?”

Hearing this, I froze.

She was craving my pasta.

I remembered back in school, when this clique of rich kids grew tired of their gourmet food and pestered me to learn how to make authentic Italian pasta.

I’d skipped three classes and been late for two exams perfecting it.

I failed countless times.

Finally, on her birthday, I presented a bowl of pasta that met their standards.

But Lila took one bite and pouted. “It’s just noodles. Disgusting.”

Then, she dumped the entire bowl—scalding sauce and all—over my head.

In the cramped bathroom.

Watching me, disheveled, my cheeks flushed from the heat, Lila had smiled with satisfaction.

“Quinn Avery, do you know your place now?”

She’d looked down at me, her voice like ice.

“You’re just a maid I can order around. I’d get rid of any ideas you shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t think I don’t know you have a crush on Dante.”

“But take a good look at yourself. A piece of trash from the slums. Are you even worthy of him?”

“The only woman Dante will ever date and marry is a Principessa, someone of his own standing. Like me.”

Even after that humiliation, I had just nodded obediently.

“I know, Miss Lila. You’ve misunderstood. I don’t have feelings like that.”

I had never dreamed of competing with her for anything.

Now, I stood stunned. When I snapped back to reality, I spoke calmly.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lila, but I can’t. There’s an urgent matter at the company I have to deal with.”

Lila’s smile instantly turned to ice.

“What did you say?”

An involuntary shiver went down my spine.

Every time she wore that cold smile, something terrible happened to me.

Before I could answer, Dante stepped in.

“What are you waiting for? The kitchen is over there.”

A dozen minutes later, I walked out with a bowl of pasta.

Lila stood up enthusiastically.

But the moment she took the bowl, my hand “slipped,” and the scalding pasta tumbled to the floor.

“Ah!”