My grandfather panicked. He glanced at the screen, then snatched the whiskey bottle from the table and raised it to smash over my head.

"Don Moretti is offering you an out and you spit in his face, you ungrateful brat! Are you trying to drag this entire family down with you?!"

Blood trickled from my forehead, blurring my vision.

But no matter how he beat or cursed me, the sight of Dante made me swallow any words of surrender.

Dante's face grew darker and darker. Just as my grandfather was about to bring the second bottle down, he suddenly spoke, his voice laced with irritation.

"Enough!"

"Elara, this is the last time. Don't test me again."

He abruptly ended the video call, as if he were running from something.

The cooperation between the two families was saved. My grandfather couldn't be bothered with me anymore and had the housekeeper take me back to my room.

The old housekeeper, Maria, teared up as she tended to my wounds.

"And that Don Moretti… The Morettis have been cutting us in on their deals for years, but you're the one who's paid the price, haven't you? With your own pain. It's one thing for strangers not to know, but how could he, of all people, say something so cruel?"

My phone buzzed. A message from Isabella.

It was a photo of Dante's strong forearm. Over the spot where our matching "Sanctuary" tattoos used to be, the name "Isabella" was now crudely inked.

"Elara, still not giving up? Even after all your scheming, Dante is determined to marry me. He only loves me."

"Do you dare tell him the truth? Neither the Costello nor the Moretti family will let you go. Stop struggling. In his heart, you'll always be the murderer who killed his mother!"

Maria was indignant.

"That liar! What right does she have to be so arrogant?! It's been seven years, how much longer will you wait? Why not just tell Don Moretti the truth…"

I turned off my phone, cutting her off softly.

"Maria, I have to keep the promise I made to him."

Everyone on the outside thought Dante and I were mortal enemies.

But no one knew that we were once each other's everything.

In the ambush seven years ago, Dante was shot in the head. The surgery to save him came with a high risk of amnesia.

When he refused the surgery, terrified of the risks, I kissed the corners of his trembling lips and whispered that it would be okay, that I would be there.

After he lost his memory, the first time I went to visit him, I found him holding his private doctor, Isabella, in his arms.

He threw everything I had brought at me, coldly watching my humiliation.

"Who let you in?"

"You murderer. The sight of you makes me sick. Get out!"

That bullet didn't just erase our love; it twisted his memories until he believed I was the enemy who had tried to kill him.

But Isabella was right; I didn't dare tell the truth.

Not because I was afraid of the two families.

But because I couldn't bear to see Dante have another mental breakdown, pressing a gun to his own temple, unable to accept the facts.

That night, I dreamed again of Dante before he went into surgery, holding my hand and vowing through his sobs.

"Elara, I love you so much, I'll never forget you. We'll grow old together in our sanctuary on the Hudson, lovers forever."

"If I really do forget, you can hit me, you can scold me, but I'm begging you not to leave me. If I fall in love with another woman, you have to break us up, by any means necessary."

We made a pact. If he hurt me a hundred times for another woman, I would give up.

Including tonight, it had already been 98 times...

Perhaps because of that dream, when I woke up, I felt a sudden, strong urge to go back to our "Sanctuary."

It was an estate Dante had once given me, a place that held all our secret joys.

Whenever I felt I couldn't go on, I would go there and just… sit.

But before I could even leave the house, I got a call from the caretaker there.

"Miss Elara, Don Moretti had the estate razed to the ground! He said he's building a new rose garden for Miss Isabella!"

"The child's grave was dug up too!"

By the time I arrived, the sanctuary that held all our beautiful memories had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

As if it had never existed.

Isabella was nestled in Dante's arms, her tone full of disgust.

"I really don't know who could be so vicious as to bury ashes here. Dante, why don't we just flush them down the sewer? Let this filthy thing never find peace."

Dante gently stroked her hair.

"Alright. Anyone who dares to scare my Isabella, I'll make sure their soul never finds peace."

Blood rushed to my head. I charged forward, grabbing a fallen shovel and swinging it hard at one of the thugs standing guard by Isabella.

Amidst Isabella's screams, I slapped her hard across the face twice.

"Who are you to touch my child? You dare trespass on my property? Get out!"

"Elara, what new madness is this?!"

Dante pulled her into his arms, glaring at me furiously.

"Miss Elara, this estate is in Don Moretti's name. You're just a squatter, taking advantage because he's too busy to deal with you. Have you no shame?" one of Isabella's men sneered.

"I was just wondering why there would be ashes here," Isabella added, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "So you had a child with some other man, had an abortion because you were afraid it would ruin your reputation, and secretly buried it here. If you're not disgusted by it, we are. It's a bad omen!"

Isabella's last sentence seemed to strike a nerve with Dante.

His face grew even darker, and a cruel sneer twisted his lips.

"I knew it. Those photos in Times Square, you just replaced some other man's face with mine."

"Elara, all these years you've been sabotaging my relationship with Isabella, while secretly fooling around with other men and even having a bastard child. How dare you bury this filth on my land?!"

A white-hot rage seized him, and he couldn't even explain why.

Hearing his words, a chill spread through my heart.

Yes, Dante and I once had a child.

But on the very day we had planned to register our marriage, he was ambushed.

At the time, Dante was in a coma. The hospital declared him critical, telling his father to prepare for the worst.

His father, seeing him as a lost cause, was busy searching for a new heir among the family's collateral branches.

Aside from sending money, he never once visited.

I was the one who stayed by his side day and night, praying to every god I could think of, begging them to let Dante live.

But I miscarried from the sheer exhaustion.

When Dante regained consciousness, he ignored the doctor's advice and dragged his weakened body out to help me bury our child under the oak tree at the sanctuary.

He held me and cried like a child.

"Elara, it's all my fault, all my fault."

"Let's bury our baby here. I'm afraid he won't find his way home when he's reincarnated. In life or death, our family will always be together..."

Now, he was calling our child filth.

"Dante, what if I told you that this was our child?"

"On that urn, you personally carved 'D & E'. Don't you even recognize your own mark? Give it back to me!"

Dante froze, his gaze subconsciously falling on the small urn.

D & E...

Suddenly, Dante's head felt like it was splitting apart, and he clutched it instinctively.

"Dante!"

Isabella quickly supported him, snatched the urn, and glared at me.

"Miss Elara, that's enough! Don't you think you've caused Dante enough misery?!"

"Even if you hate him, you should have some decency! First you ruined our wedding, and now you're forging markings. Dante can't even stand the sight of you, how could he possibly have a child with you?!"

"What are your intentions, slinging such disgusting accusations at him?!"

The next second, Isabella opened the urn and pulled out a voodoo doll pierced with needles.

Her birthday and name were stuck to it.

"So you knew all along that Dante was going to build a rose garden for me here. You couldn't stand to see us happy, so you used this black magic to curse me! No wonder I've been feeling unwell lately!"

Dante was even more enraged, the earlier suspicion in his eyes vanishing completely.

"Elara, I know your grandfather believes in those old southern Italian sorceries and has dealt with all sorts of people to protect the Costello family's business."

"But I never thought you'd stoop so low. Knowing Isabella is my weakness, you resort to these despicable tactics just to get at me. You're irredeemable!"

"Kneel and apologize to Isabella, now!"

I looked at him with a sardonic smile.

"Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?"

"Then again, if that voodoo crap actually worked, I would've stuck a thousand needles in that doll and made the bitch beg for death!"

I had thoroughly provoked Dante. He waved his men forward.

Isabella quickly took his arm and advised.

"Dante, Elara is just a madwoman, she'll never admit she's wrong. I have some expertise in psychiatry, and with patients like her, you have to use the right treatment for the illness."

Dante's expression softened slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Isabella smiled triumphantly at me.

"For a stubborn lunatic like Miss Elara, the best course of treatment is high-voltage electric shock."