Dante held my hand, his voice low as he promised, "Isabella, be good. I promise I won't lose you again."

A sarcastic smile touched my lips, and I was about to tell him everything.

But Dante suddenly pushed me away and bolted in another direction.

I followed his gaze and saw Camila's retreating back.

Halfway to her, Dante seemed to remember something.

He turned and shouted, "Isabella, wait for me! I'll be right back."

But even as he spoke to me, his body was already carrying him toward another woman.

She was wearing a red dress, just like me.

I turned and walked away without a second thought.

Dante was furious about my unannounced departure.

I ignored him. After all, if I just changed my clothes, I was invisible to him.

Once all the paperwork to leave Chicago was settled, the first thing I did was go to a department store for a new wardrobe.

For all these years, just to earn a single glance from Dante, my wardrobe had become a sea of uniform white, making me feel like a ghost haunting my own life.

The sight of it now made me nauseous.

A salesclerk enthusiastically presented a fiery red haute couture gown.

Just as I was about to pay, a sharp voice cut in.

"I'll take this one, too."

I turned my head and met Camila's arrogant gaze.

She sized me up. "Still trying so hard? Didn't Sicily teach you a lesson?"

"Dante doesn't love you. No matter how expensive your clothes are, to him, you're just thin air."

"He doesn't even recognize you, hahahaha!"

I wouldn't waste my breath on her. I took the black card from my wallet and handed it to the clerk.

"This one she touched, and every other style in this collection, wrap them all up for me."

"And please, show her out."

The salesclerk was about to usher her out when Dante appeared.

He walked straight to Camila, not even sparing me a glance.

"Wrap up the dress for Miss Camila."

The clerk was stunned, whispering, "Don, but this lady is your…"

I wore heavy makeup and my hair was styled in dramatic Latin curls.

As expected, Dante didn't recognize me.

"Who the hell is she?" Dante's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for the entire boutique to hear.

"Some nobody thinks she can compete with Camila?"

He turned to the frozen salesclerk, his tone an unchallengeable command.

"From this day on, remember Miss Camila's face. In the future, all businesses under the Falcone family will give her unconditional priority."

Camila, with a magnanimous air, tossed the dress down. "That won't be necessary. It's not like I'm short on dresses."

"Just let the unloved, pitiful creature have it."

Dante didn't press the issue. "As long as you're happy."

I stood there, watching as Dante's gaze remained fixed on Camila, and the last ember of warmth in my heart died.