On the night of our engagement, the ward my family sponsored left without a word.

She went alone to the Mexican border, a lawless land crawling with cartels, to become a combat medic.

From then on, Dante and I tortured each other for ten years.

He hated me for trapping him with my birthright as the heir, stealing the spot of the woman he loved.

I hated him for humiliating me while still craving the power and wealth the Moretti family provided.

In countless fights, we spewed the most vicious curses at each other.

Until that raid on the underwater sanctuary. The base was rigged to blow and sinking fast.

Dante didn't hesitate. He strapped the only oxygen mask onto my face and turned to jump into the swarm of sharks.

He slit his own wrist, using his blood to lure the predators away.

Moments before the sea swallowed him, he roared at me:

“I don't owe you anything anymore, Sophia!”

“If there's a next life, please, let me go!”

After I was rescued, the family only recovered his mangled remains.

Clutched in his palm was that charity case's cross necklace.

That was when I learned Elena had died from a stray bullet years ago.

And he, in the end, chose this brutal suicide to join her.

Dante's death shook the entire Underworld. The family Elders took their anger out on me.

I was accused of being a "Black Widow" who sent her husband to his death to save herself. I was beaten to death by a mob of angry thugs on the street.

When I opened my eyes again, I stopped my father.

This time, I’ll let them have their epic love story.

"Sophia! I'm talking to you. Did you hear me?"

I jolted awake, looked up, and found myself sitting in my father's office—Don Moretti's office.

The desk reflected the cold light, showing my twenty-five-year-old face.

I was reborn.

I was back at the turning point of my fate—the day Father finalized my engagement to Dante and prepared to send Elena abroad for her studies.

In my past life, Father sat in this leather chair that symbolized absolute power, deciding my marriage with a tone that brooked no argument.

And Elena, the girl my family had sponsored, looking as fragile as a damsel in distress, stood right here. With tears in her eyes, she said she was willing to go to the border, dedicating her life to the noble cause of medicine, just so she wouldn't ruin Dante's and my "happiness."

Back then, for the sake of family glory and a girl's infatuation, I nodded and accepted this loveless arrangement.

"Dante is the sharpest blade in our family. Only if you marry him can I trust him to work for me."

Father clasped his hands, his eyes sharp.

"As for Elena, I'll send her to Syria or Mexico. The slums there need doctors..."

"Let me go."

I interrupted Father, my tone unusually calm.

Father froze, his hand holding the cigar pausing in mid-air.

I looked straight into those eyes that commanded respect in both the legal and criminal worlds, articulating every word clearly:

"The medical aid station at the border—I'll go in her place. As for the engagement between the Moretti family and Dante... cancel it."

I paused, then revealed a smile with zero warmth:

"Since Dante can't bear to see his little angel suffer, why don't we just let them be? Let them stay in New York and rot together forever."

"Nonsense!" Father slammed the table and stood up, veins popping on his forehead. "You are the sole heir of the Moretti family. You want to go to a place full of cartels and mercenaries to die? Sophia, this joke isn't funny at all!"

"Exactly because I am a Moretti, I need to go to those places to build our own underground medical network, don't I?"

I brought up the "expansion theory" he usually preached to me, leaving him speechless.

"But, Dad, don't tell Dante about this for now. I want to give him a 'surprise'."

Father stared at me hard, trying to find a trace of a tantrum on my face, but there was none.

He finally sat back down in defeat and waved his hand.

I stood up, pushed the door open, and bumped right into Elena, who was eavesdropping behind it.

Seeing me come out, she immediately leaned in, her voice sickeningly delicate:

"Sophia, are you really going to do this? Actually, Dante... he's just too kind. That's why he cares about someone of my status..."

"If you think he's kind, that's because you haven't seen his methods when breaking rats."

I didn't stop walking.

"Sophia, don't be like this."

She jogged to catch up, her tone holding a hint of superiority she couldn't hide. "Actually, that kind of place isn't suitable for you. A princess like you, who grew up in a manor, probably couldn't survive a single day there."

My footsteps stopped abruptly.

That look.

In my past life, she used this "innocent" tone countless times to manipulate Dante, making him think I was just a cruel, heartless Mafia princess who only knew how to spend money.

I slowly turned around and stared at Elena's hypocritical face.

The resentment accumulated over a lifetime exploded in this moment.

Slap!

A crisp, heavy slap sent her crashing to the floor.

Elena covered her face, eyes wide with disbelief, tears streaming down.

"You... you dare to hit me?"

"That slap was for the Sophia who died on the street."

I looked down at her, my eyes colder than a Sicilian winter.

"Put away your cheap acting, Elena. In my eyes, you rank lower than the guard dogs raised by the family."

"Sophia! What are you doing!"

A roar like a trapped beast came from the end of the hallway.

Dante rushed over like a hurricane.

He quickly shielded Elena, who was on the ground, in his arms. Those deep, brooding blue eyes locked onto me, looking as if he wanted to tear me apart right there.

"Sophia Moretti! You've only been back from Europe for a few days, and you're already throwing your weight around as the heir?"

He growled through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with rage.

"Do you think everything in this world can be bought with money? Apart from being born lucky, what do you have?"

He looked down at Elena, who was crying her heart out in his arms, his movements as gentle as if he were protecting a rare treasure.

"Elena is a woman with a soul, a noble woman. She's different from a Mafia viper like you, who reeks of old money!"

Mafia viper?

Hearing that term, I actually wanted to laugh.

In my past life, to help him gain legitimacy, to turn him from a killer in the shadows into a legal business elite, how much blood did I get on my hands? How many bullets did I take for him?

But in his heart, I was always just a "stinking rich" burden.

"If you kneel down and apologize to Elena right now, I might consider saving you some face at the engagement party," Dante added coldly, his tone sounding like charity to a beggar.

"Apologize?"

I chuckled, the sound echoing bleakly in the empty hallway.

"Dante, did you forget who gave you that handmade custom suit you're wearing? Or who gave you the dock businesses you control?"

I took a step forward, forcing him to look me in the eye.

"You are just a dog raised by the Moretti family. A dog actually wants its owner to apologize to a stray cat by the roadside?"

Dante's face instantly turned iron-gray, the scar on his forehead twisting with rage.

That scar was from when he was fourteen, protecting me from a rival gang's knife.

I used to think it was proof of his love. Now, it looks like nothing more than a bodyguard's badge of honor.

"Sophia, you have a death wish!" He took a sharp step forward, his large hand gripping my wrist tightly, the force almost breaking my bone.

"Don't blame Sophia! It's my fault for being here!"

Elena suddenly screamed and lunged forward, trying to pull us apart.

She shouted about stopping the fight, but her high heel stomped precisely on the pendant I had dropped during the shove.

Snap.

It was a very faint cracking sound.

My blood froze instantly.

That pendant, inlaid with an emerald, was the only thing my mother left me before she died.

She died in a car bomb attack meant for my father. When she died, she was still holding me tight.

I pushed Dante away and squatted down, trembling.

The gold chain was broken. The expensive gem had shattered into several pieces under Elena's heel, scattered miserably on the carpet.

"Oh! My God! I'm sorry, Sophia! I didn't mean to. I was just too panicked..."

Elena covered her mouth, backing away in fear, but the fleeting look of pleasure in her eyes didn't escape me.

Dante glanced at the fragments on the floor, then at my pale face. A flash of something strange crossed his eyes.

But he quickly reverted to that look of disgust, turning his head away stiffly:

"It's just a piece of jewelry, isn't it? The Moretti family isn't short on jewelry. Don't act like a victim here; it makes me sick."

I picked up the cold fragments. My fingertips were cut, oozing red blood.

I didn't cry, and I didn't make a scene.

I just looked up and stared at Dante like I was looking at a dead man.

"You're right, Dante."

I stood up, clutching the fragments in my palm, blood dripping through my fingers.

"This trash really doesn't deserve to stay in the Moretti Manor anymore."

"From now on, you are free."

I turned around, my back resolute.

"Take your angel and get the hell out of my sight."

I slowly lifted my head, my gaze looking past the blood between my fingers, and stared at his face, which was written all over with impatience and disgust. The last shred of the warm illusion of being "childhood sweethearts" in my heart was thoroughly shattered by his own hands.

In Dante's eyes, everything about the Moretti family, including my feelings, was nothing but cheap goods piled up with blood-stained cash.

I didn't cry. I didn't even frown.

Under everyone's gaze, I simply used my slightly trembling hands to pick up the dusty emerald fragments, piece by piece.

Then, I walked around them and stepped into the shadows without looking back.

From that moment on, I knew I was completely free.

Over the next few days, I began to methodically sever all my ties with this underworld empire.

The three custom Ferraris my father gave me, the sets of Van Cleef & Arpels jewelry in the safe, and those limited-edition handbags that symbolized the status of "Miss Moretti"—I sent them all to the underground auction house to be cashed out.

After tens of millions of dollars hit my account, I used an anonymous account to transfer all of it into the Moretti Group's secret medical charity fund.

However, Dante somehow caught wind of it.

He thought I was playing some hard-to-get game again and stormed onto my private terrace in a rage.

"Sophia! What the hell are you trying to do?"

He blocked me against the railing, breathing heavily, fire burning in his eyes.

"Selling off all your assets and then donating money anonymously... Do you think playing this 'saint act' will move me? Do you think it proves you're nobler than Elena?"

"Let me tell you, even if you donated the entire Moretti family vault, a killer's blood still runs in your veins! You don't even compare to a single strand of Elena's hair!"

I didn't stop organizing the documents in my hands. I didn't even look at him.

But he suddenly grabbed my arm and slammed me against the cold stone pillar, his grip strong enough to almost crush my bones.

"Doesn't your Moretti family just want to use me to whitewash your reputation so those old-money tycoons will accept you?"

He leaned close to my ear, his tone low and filled with humiliation.

"Too bad, Sophia. The smell of blood doesn't wash off. You make me sick."

In my past life, he used words like these to torture my heart countless times.

But right now, I just raised my eyes, looked calmly at this man I once loved more than life itself, and gave him a professional smile.

"Mr. Dante."

I gently, without any lingering attachment, broke free from his grip and smoothed the wrinkles on my silk shirt.

"You're right."

"I really shouldn't use the family's 'blood money' to taint those truly pure souls."

Watching his expression stiffen instantly at my cold address, I continued unhurriedly:

"So I decided to go see hell for myself. To do something actually meaningful."

Before he could react, I walked straight past him.

Dante obviously didn't catch my drift.

In his logic filled with prejudice, I was doing all this just to get attention, to make him, the "family successor," change his mind.

To counter my "show," he started spoiling Elena even more aggressively.

The next day, Elena appeared in front of me wearing an exquisite cross necklace.

It was the only keepsake Dante's mother had left before she died.

She had the look of a victor on her face, her fingertips gently caressing the necklace.

"Dante gave this to me. He said only a girl with clean hands and a pure soul like me deserves to be his bride."

I didn't even lift my eyelids. I turned a page of the medical report, my voice cold and flat.

"Congrats. It suits your skin tone."