I lost all interest in picking out a wedding ring, so I bought a ticket to Mirisca and spent a few days there.

When I returned, a party was taking place.

The host had invited the Dons and Madres from various mafia families.

I got dressed up and went to the event, but I never expected to see Carlotta, in a glamorous gown, affectionately linked arm-in-arm with Demetrio.

I instantly recognized the dress she was wearing. It was the wedding dress Demetrio had custom-made for me three years ago.

At that time, I had casually mentioned how beautiful the dress looked while flipping through a bridal magazine. He had remembered it.

Demetrio went out of his way to find the designer and was rejected over and over again for years. After three years, the designer finally agreed to make it for him.

But now, the wedding dress that was supposed to be mine was on Carlotta.

She and Demetrio stood side by side, looking like the perfect couple. Meanwhile, I felt like an outsider who had stumbled in by mistake.

A tight pain gripped my chest, sharp and suffocating.

Noticing me, Carlotta lifted the hem of her dress. Her voice dripped with provocation as she asked, "Demetrio, so this is your wife?"

Her gaze then slowly drifted to my hand. "Why is one of her fingers missing?"

She smiled lightly, as if suddenly understanding something. "No wonder you always avoided bringing her to events and even let me wear her wedding dress."

The air in the room froze.

Demetrio's expression darkened, and his voice dropped. "Carlotta, stop it."

Everyone's eyes fell on my hand. Waves of contempt, curiosity, and surprise washed over me, stripping me bare.

In the next instant, I raised my hand and slapped Carlotta across the face.

The sharp sound silenced the entire room. "I'm the Madre here. You're not in a position to speak."

Carlotta clutched her quickly swelling cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. "Mi scuso, Lucia. I was just speaking my mind. I didn't realize you'd be so petty over such a small thing."

Frowning, Demetrio instinctively stepped in front of her to shield her. His eyes were full of pain.

"Enough." He grabbed my arm and dragged me away. His voice was devoid of any warmth as he said, "Stop making a scene."

In the underground parking lot, I yanked my arm away from him and asked in a trembling voice, "Why did you let her wear my wedding dress? She humiliated me in front of everyone, and you just let it happen?"

Demetrio paused for a moment. "It's just a dress. Carlotta didn't have anything appropriate to wear to the event. Besides, she said nothing wrong."

My heart sank.

"The Madre represents the face of the family," he said flatly, as though stating an irrefutable fact. "With you missing a finger, what will people think of us?"

My heart kept sinking.

"Carlotta is beautiful and graceful," he added. "It's normal for me to bring her to events."

But Demetrio had forgotten.

When his rival had first spread the news about me losing a finger, the entire city mocked me. It was him who personally went out and dealt with every single person who dared to make fun of me.

Back then, he had held my hand and said affectionately, "Anyone who dares to belittle you will pay the price."

His words still echoed in my ears, but now, Demetrio had already taken off his blazer and naturally draped it over Carlotta's shoulders.

I was left alone.

Demetrio was unhappy with me slapping Carlotta at the party. When we got home, the butler, Celso Spinosa, locked me in the family's confinement room.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Anzelmo. This is Don Farese's order. We're just following instructions."

The confinement room was cold and cramped, with no windows or light.

Within minutes, I started shaking. I banged on the door and yelled, "Where's Demetrio? I need to talk to him!"

After a long silence, Celso's voice came through, but it was tinged with hesitation. "Don Farese is with Ms. Rini. He said… you're not to disturb them."

I spent three long, endless days in that windowless confinement room. By the time I was let out, my legs were so weak I could barely stand, as though half of my soul had been drained away.

When I got my phone, notifications flooded in.

Carlotta had performed "Dream Wedding" at a concert, and Demetrio was sitting in the front row, clapping for her.

That song was the one I had picked for our wedding.

I watched the video over and over again like I was torturing myself.

From the initial heartbreak to the point where I no longer felt the pain, I learned then that people really could become numb after enough hurt.

I suddenly realized that whether Demetrio married me or not didn't matter anymore. Who he chose, who he protected, and who he loved had nothing to do with me anymore.

I decided to let him be with Carlotta.

I packed my things bit by bit from the house I once called home. Clothes, jewelry, old photos, and the memories I had carefully kept all went into a suitcase.

As I stood at the door, holding the suitcase, I didn't even look back.

…

When I found Demetrio at the hospital, I didn't even have the chance to speak about breaking off the engagement.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Demetrio demanded.

His face was dark, and he grabbed my neck with such force that it felt like he was trying to choke the life out of me.

"Are you jealous that Carlotta's physically perfect, so you had someone hurt her?"

That was when I learned that something had gone wrong within the Farese family. Someone had targeted Carlotta.

Despite eight bodyguards and Demetrio himself protecting her, Carlotta's right hand had still been mangled beyond recognition.

Forced to tilt my head back, I stared at the face that had countless times whispered sweet promises to protect me forever.

Suddenly, I found it so absurd I almost wanted to laugh.

Apparently, in Demetrio's mind, I was so terrible that I could do something like that.

"It wasn't me." I forced those three words out.

Demetrio sneered, as if he didn't believe me at all. "Who else could it be if not you?"

His gaze landed on my hand, which had a missing thumb.

It was like he had finally found an outlet for his anger. His face darkened, and he grabbed my wrist with such force it bordered on cruelty.

He pressed down hard on the spot where my thumb used to be. That was the old wound from when I took the bullet for him.

"Ah!"

The pain exploded, unexpected and sharp. I bent over, nearly unable to stand.

It felt like my bones were being crushed and the old injury was being rubbed raw, sending waves of pain through me.

"Does it hurt?" Demetrio looked down at me, his voice chillingly calm. "Carlotta's pain right now is a hundred times worse than yours."

I looked up at him. My eyes were red, but I was unable to shed a single tear.

"She lost an entire hand," he said.

I finally struggled to pull my hand back. My arm was shaking violently. The old wound tore open, and blood seeped through my fingers.

It dripped on the floor, little by little.

Demetrio straightened his cuffs, his voice returning to its usual cold restraint. "Don't let me find out you have any ill intentions again."

He carefully took Carlotta's damaged hand with one knee on the ground. His movements were almost reverent, and his voice was low but firm. "Carlotta, will you marry me?"

Carlotta's eyes filled with tears. "But my hand…"

Demetrio looked up at her, his gaze tender beyond belief. "I'm marrying you because of who you are. It won't change because of anything else."

When he said those words, my world suddenly went silent because I had heard them before—those exact same words.

Years ago, when I lost a finger, I lay in a hospital bed, and my hand was tightly wrapped in bandages.

Demetrio had sat by my side, holding my hand with red-rimmed eyes. He said, "Lucia, once I've handled everything, I'll marry you. No matter what happens to you, I'll still want you."

Back then, I was shaking with pain, but I felt like the luckiest person in the world.

And now, he was in the same posture, using the same tone, and making the same promise. But this time, I wasn't the one he was making it to.

Demetrio took out a ring from his blazer pocket.

The next moment, he carefully slid that ring onto Carlotta's unscarred ring finger right in front of me. "I will marry you, Carlotta."

The room felt deafeningly still.

I looked down at my hand. The missing finger felt so empty.

The moment Carlotta nodded, Demetrio almost lost himself. He pulled her into his arms and spun around with her. His voice overflowed with joy as he said, "I'll get the wedding preparations started right away."

With that, he hurriedly left.

As for me, I just wanted to leave and completely fade out of their lives. But just as I turned to walk away, Carlotta called out to me, "Lucia."

She raised her hand, showing off the ring with an exaggerated gesture. Her tone was soft but dripping with the smug satisfaction of a winner. "Don't be too upset. Demetrio just chose someone more suitable."

I stopped but didn't turn around. I simply let out a chuckle. "You think you've won?"

Finally, I turned to face her. "He didn't choose you."

Carlotta froze for a moment.

"He just got tired of me and swapped me out for a newer replacement."

My gaze drifted over her mangled hand. I felt no pity or mockery—just a vast, empty void.

"Once he's bored with you, you'll realize that no woman can truly stay by his side. I've been with him for years. What makes you so sure your relationship will last longer and be better than ours?"

For the first time, Carlotta's expression shifted.

My gaze remained cold and empty. I looked at her flustered state, but I no longer had the slightest interest in sparing her another glance.

…

On the wedding day, the Farese estate was locked down and under heavy surveillance. I tried to leave, but Demetrio had locked me in.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, adjusting his cufflinks. His voice was detached as if giving orders. "Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't show up at the ceremony. I don't want her disrupting my wedding with Carlotta."

I pleaded, "I won't cause any trouble. Please, let me go."

He sneered, unmoved. "You dared hurt Carlotta. Why should I trust you?"

So, I was locked in the farthest room of the estate. Two bodyguards stood outside, and the room inside was as silent as a tomb.

But Demetrio didn't know that I had waited a long time for this moment. I'd been waiting for the right time to leave.

…

Not far off, the ceremony in the church continued on.

The moment the bells began to chime, the faint strains of the wedding march drifted through the air and into my ears.

I stood up and put on the simple clothes I had prepared earlier.

I walked to the window and sent a scheduled message. "Hope your wedding goes smoothly. Wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

Then, I left the phone on the table.

I didn't say goodbye, and I didn't look back.

The sunlight bathed the estate, casting light on every inch of the vast grounds.

Meanwhile, I silently slipped out the back door and vanished into the daylight, where the shadows and the voices of the crowd blurred into one.

…

Demetrio only realized something was wrong when the ceremony reached the ring exchange.

He instinctively glanced toward the estate. Panic flashed in his eyes, and his heart sank. He felt as though he had lost something crucial.

But by that time, I was already in the car, leaving the estate behind. The sun shone through the window, reflecting my calm, cold profile.

The car passed by the church. I looked out of the window toward the church, where Carlotta's smile glowed and the ring in Demetrio's hand caught the light.

None of it had anything to do with me anymore.

I whispered, as if speaking to myself, to Demetrio, and to our past, "Addio."

The white dome of the church faded in the rearview mirror, and the sound of the chimes and laughter of the wedding were left behind.

I closed my eyes.

This time, I was gone for good.