"According to the household rules, she should be locked in the cells to reflect on her actions."

My voice rang out in the hospital room. I sounded calm because things like this had happened too many times before. I'd been able to tolerate it in the past, but this time it was a threat to my life.

The IV tube was still inserted in the back of my hand, but my tone was firm, leaving no room for compromise.

Tommaso's expression changed instantly. He strode quickly to the bedside. "Alessia, no."

"No?" I slowly sat up. My stomach still throbbed with dull pain. Each breath reminded me of the torture I'd just endured.

"She poisoned a family member's wife with a drug used for torture. In any family, that's a death sentence."

Dr. Mancini nodded in agreement. "The Signora is right, Don Volpe. According to the family code, this is indeed—"

"Shut up." Tommaso cut him off coldly, then turned to me, his eyes full of pleading. "For my sake, let it go. She was just worried about the family heir, so she acted impulsively."

I looked at him and burst into laughter. The sound was especially jarring in the quiet hospital room. Even the medical equipment on the walls seemed to hum in response.

"You're saying my stomach lining was scarred for nothing?"

Tommaso fell silent for a few seconds, avoiding my gaze. Then, he said with difficulty, "Try to understand. If it were your former fiancé, you'd protect him, too."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He was right. If Marco had done something like this, I would have protected him, too.

"This is the last time."

Tommaso visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping. But his gaze suddenly fell on my hand, where I still wore the ring Marco had given me. It was a small emerald ring with an antique platinum band.

"Take it off." His voice carried a note of urgency.

"What?"

"That ring." There was anger in Tommaso's eyes as he continued, "You're the Signora of the Volpe family. You shouldn't be wearing something another man gave you."

I looked down at the ring. Marco had slipped it onto my finger before he died, his blood-stained fingers gently stroking my face as he promised to protect me for life. It was all I had left of him.

"This is my personal belonging. It has nothing to do with you."

"Take it off!" Tommaso's voice rose, tinged with an emotion I couldn't understand.

Just then, his phone rang. Gelsomina's crying came through again, her voice trembling as she wailed, "Tommaso, I'm so scared! The doctor says I might have lasting side effects. My hands won't stop shaking..."

Tommaso's expression changed instantly, pure worry flooding his eyes. He said to me, "We'll talk about this later."

He turned to leave, but I stopped him. "Tommaso."

He looked back at me, anxious to get out.

"There's something I think you should know." My voice was perfectly steady. "Tell your sister she can relax. I will never carry a Volpe heir."

"What do you mean?" Tommaso frowned.

"I had my tubes tied before the arranged marriage." I watched his shocked expression and continued, "To honor my love for Marco, I don't want anyone's child. Including yours."

Tommaso looked like he'd been struck by lightning, his face turning deathly pale. His phone was still ringing, but his attention was completely fixed on what I'd just said.

"Are you insane?" He rushed to the bedside and grabbed my shoulders, gripping hard enough to hurt. "Get it reversed immediately! This is your duty as the wife of a family heir!"

I shook my head, my voice still perfectly calm. "But our marriage contract is already in the dissolution process. I no longer have that duty."

"What dissolution process?" Tommaso asked with a frown, but he was listening to Gelsomina's increasingly urgent crying on the phone and completely missed what I'd said.

"Tommaso, where are you? I need you! The doctor says the drugs I took before have side effects!"

"I'm on my way," Tommaso said to me anxiously. "We'll talk about this when we get home."

He left in a rush, clearly not having heard what I'd just said. And if he did, he'd chosen to ignore it.

Over the next two weeks, I rested at the private hospital. The burns in my stomach needed time to heal. The doctor said it would take at least a month for me to fully recover.

Since then, I received photos from Gelsomina every day—photos of her and Tommaso on the beach, where she wore a bikini and nestled against him; photos of them on a shopping spree, her arm linked through his as they browsed luxury boutiques.

Every photo proclaimed her victory. After all these years, I was used to it. Tommaso's love for her remained as constant as ever.

Tommaso, on the other hand, also sent me encrypted messages. They were all about the reversal surgery.

"Found the best doctor. A leading expert in this field."

"The surgery carries minimal risk. 95% success rate."

"This is your responsibility. How could you hide this surgery from me, Alessia?"

I didn't reply to any of them. On the day of my discharge, Tommaso came to pick me up personally.

He drove a black luxury car with Gelsomina in the passenger seat, whose skin was kissed golden by the sun. She looked radiant.

"Ms. Gallo, please sit in the back," she said sweetly, her voice carrying an undeniable command. "The front is my seat."

I didn't argue with her and quietly slid into the back seat. Soft jazz played inside the car, but the atmosphere was unusually tense.

Tommaso glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "About the surgery—"

"I apologize." Gelsomina suddenly spoke, her voice reluctant, like a petulant child forced to eat her words. "Tommaso said I have to apologize to you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you drink that."

"Apology accepted," I said flatly.

Tommaso breathed a sigh of relief and started the car. The engine's roar echoed throughout the underground garage.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"A private auction," Tommaso said. "The Torrino family is auctioning some valuable items of art and antiquity."

The car headed toward Cromer's industrial district, passing abandoned factories and warehouses before finally stopping in front of what looked like a deserted building. This was the mafia's secret auction house. Only those with real power could enter.

Several bodyguards in black suits stood at the entrance. They recognized Tommaso and immediately stepped aside respectfully.

The auction had already begun. Representatives from various families filled the hall. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of money.

Tommaso bid on a Dornwich beachfront villa, and bidding closed at 30 million dollars. He had given it to Gelsomina, who excitedly kissed his cheek, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "Thank you, Tommaso!"

Then, I saw the cufflinks. They were made out of antique platinum with exquisite craftsmanship, studded with small clusters of diamonds that glittered under the lights.

Marco had once had a similar pair. They were his grandfather's heirlooms.

I raised my paddle and said, "One million."

The auctioneer nodded in confirmation. "One million from Signora Volpe."

Tommaso turned to look at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, followed by something I couldn't quite read. Was it out of surprise, or perhaps… Tenderness? A complicated look flickered across his face, and his expression softened.

"One point five million." Gelsomina suddenly raised her paddle, malice gleaming in her eyes.

She'd noticed the change in how Tommaso looked at me. That unprecedented tenderness drove her mad with jealousy that her voice became as sharp as nails scraping across a chalkboard.

"Two million." I calmly raised my paddle without looking at her.

"Three million!" Gelsomina shrieked, her face flushing red with rage.

"Five million."

"Eight million!" She was practically roaring now.

Tommaso watched the bidding war between us, confusion deepening in his eyes, yet he didn't stop us. He simply observed quietly, as if trying to understand something.

His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest, a habit he always did when he was thinking.

"Ten million." I raised my paddle one last time, my voice still calm.

The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold! Ten million to Signora Volpe!"

Gelsomina's face went pale with fury. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging deep into her palms. But in front of Tommaso, she didn't dare lose control. She could only suppress her rage.

After the auction ended, I received the cufflinks. They lay quietly in an elegant box, looking just like the ones Marco used to wear.

Tommaso walked over to me, his voice carrying a tenderness I'd never heard before. "Put them on me."

I froze. He thought I'd bought them for him? Just as I was about to explain, Tommaso's phone rang.

"Don Volpe, there's trouble at the docks." The Underboss, Nico Romano, spoke with urgency. "We found an informant on the Torrino family's cargo ship. You need to handle this personally."

Tommaso's expression immediately turned serious. He had always been one to attend to the family business himself.

"I'm on my way." With that, he hurried out of the auction venue, leaving me alone with Gelsomina. The sweet smile vanished from her face instantly, replaced by pure malice. Her gaze was as cold as a viper's.

"Take her." She signaled to several men with a glance.

I hadn't brought any bodyguards because I'd come to the auction in a rush with the Don. At her words, I was taken to the underground garage.

The space was vast and cold. Only a few dim bulbs swayed overhead, casting eerie shadows.

"You think Tommaso actually cares about you?" Gelsomina sneered, her high heels clicking sharply against the concrete. "You think buying him cufflinks will make him feel something for you?"

She snatched the box containing the cufflinks from my hands, her movements as vulgar as a barbarian's.

"What right do you have to compete with me?" She opened the box and stared at the exquisite cufflinks, her eyes almost green from the venom they leaked. "Even if you give them to him, he'll only ever love me."

I sighed and started to explain, "I didn't buy them for him. You're misunderstanding. I'm not giving them to him."

I only wanted to keep them as a memento of Marco.

"You think I'll believe that? You have improper thoughts about Tommaso!" Gelsomina laughed maniacally, her laughter echoing through the empty garage.

"Tommaso actually wavered because of those cufflinks! He looked at you like an idiot!" She dumped the cufflinks onto the ground, and they clattered uselessly against the concrete.

"No!" I lunged forward to stop her, but her men grabbed my arms.

Gelsomina's high heel stomped on the cufflinks. The clear sound of the antique platinum cracking resonated throughout the space, its decorative diamond clusters scattering across the floor like fallen stars.

"This is what you deserve!" she said venomously, continuing to crush the fragments. "Don't ever think you'll get real love from Tommaso! His heart belongs only to me!"

Just then, the garage door was kicked open violently, crashing against the wall with a loud bang. Tommaso emerged from beyond the door. When he saw the shattered pieces on the ground and me being restrained, his expression instantly darkened like storm clouds.

Fury burned in his eyes, but there was something else there, too. Panic?

"Let her go!"

The burly men immediately released me. They knew how terrifying the Don was when he was truly angry.

Tommaso walked over to me and looked at the fragments on the ground. Pain flashed through his eyes. At that moment, I couldn't hold on any longer and fainted.

When I woke, I was back at the estate. Tommaso sat beside my bed. When he spoke, his voice was laced with genuine remorse. "Mi dispiace."

"Will she be punished?" I hoped he would make some gesture, so I asked.

Then, he pleaded with me. "Can we just ground Gelsomina in her room for a week? She'll never do something like this again."

That was practically no punishment at all. It was the outcome I'd expected all along. It didn't matter to me who he loved, but given how many times these sorts of things had happened, I grew tired of this behavior.

I sat up and stared ahead silently.

"Va bene. You love her too much," I said calmly, my voice free of accusation, carrying only the detached tone of stating facts. "Just like I only love Marco."

There was nothing unusual about that statement. We were the same, both of us loving people we couldn't have. But his beloved was still by his side, and mine was long gone.

His lips moved, and finally he forced out a single sentence. "Don't mention his name again."