Shortly after replying to the Cobella family's email, an encrypted communication request came through.

The caller identified themselves as the Cobella family's contact in New York, and their efficiency was amazing.

They had arranged everything.

I didn't say goodbye to anyone in the Donovitch family.

On the night of my departure, the darkness was thick.

Using my knowledge of the estate's blind spots, I avoided the patrolling Soldatos and quietly made my way to an abandoned old garage on the estate's edge.

There, an unmarked black car was waiting.

The driver was a man of few words. After confirming my identity, he simply said, "The Cobella family sends their regards," and drove me away from Donovitch territory.

Before leaving New York, I had the driver stop at a remote junkyard.

I carried a bag containing everything Leone had ever given me: all our photos together, old letters, jewelry he'd given me, even the scarf I'd knitted for his birthday that Anastasia later cut to shreds.

All the items holding memories of us.

I stood before the incinerator, expressionless as I threw each item into the roaring flames.

Watching them turn to ash. No nostalgia, no reluctance.

Then, without looking back, I got in the car and headed straight for the airport, taking a private plane arranged by the Cobella family to Naples, Italy.

The Donovitch estate was particularly lively today.

The wedding of Leone Donovitch and Anastasia was underway.

The estate was decorated with extreme luxury. Important figures from New York and major Mafia families across America had gathered, the air thick with the scent of power and money.

The men wore expensive custom-tailored suits, the women glittered with jewels. Conversations and laughter mixed with cigar smoke, filling the grand hall.

Leone stood at the center of it all, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo with the impeccable smile befitting a future Don. Anastasia clung to his arm, wearing a custom wedding dress studded with countless gems, like a proud peacock accepting compliments and blessings from all directions. She was the absolute focus of the day.

Leone greeted the endless stream of guests, but his eyes occasionally swept across the room.

He saw many familiar faces—women who had participated in the roulette marriage candidates, representatives of families with close ties to the Donovitch family.

They were all there, showing their loyalty or reverence to him, to the future Don Donovitch.

But one person was missing.

No one from the Volkov family had come. Especially me.

A tiny ripple of disturbance went through him, like a stone thrown into a lake. The ripples disappeared quickly but they were there.

He had expected me to come, even if just out of courtesy, or... as Anastasia said, because I couldn't let go, wanting to witness his wedding with my own eyes?

He quickly pushed the thought aside, maintaining the perfect smile on his face.

Anastasia noticed his momentary distraction and followed his gaze, naturally noticing the absence of the Volkov family.

She sneered inwardly but clung to him tighter, her voice sweet as honey: "Don't look anymore, my love. Miss Elena probably... still can't let go. It's understandable she wouldn't want to come to our wedding. After all, she wanted to marry you so badly."

Her words contained just the right amount of sympathy and a hint of triumph.

Leone made a noncommittal sound, saying nothing more.

He summoned his closest aide, whispering instructions: "Find out why no one from the Volkov family is here. And find Elena Volkov. Bring her to the wedding immediately."

He needed to see me, to confirm if I was truly as devastated as Anastasia claimed, "unable to let go." Today's situation had filled him with an inexplicable unease.

The aide's expression grew grim.

He leaned close to Leone, whispering: "Young Master Donovitch, we can't reach anyone from the Volkov family. It seems... something major has happened to their family. Also, we've searched the entire estate and found no sign of Miss Elena. Some of the maids said they haven't seen her since yesterday."

"What happened? What kind of trouble?" Leone frowned. That inexplicable feeling rose again, this time not satisfaction, but a subtle unease.

Just then, a Soldato couldn't help but mutter to his companion while polishing a glass: "What other trouble could there be... I heard their Don, old Volkov, died a few days ago in that firefight at the west docks. Died pretty badly, their crew was almost wiped out... sigh, if only someone had backed them up then, maybe..."

Leone whipped around, his sharp gaze locking onto the talkative Soldato: "What did you just say? Say that again! What firefight? I thought that was fake! Why didn't I hear anything about this?"

The Soldato trembled so hard the glass almost slipped from his hands, stammering: "It... it was a few days ago... when Miss Elena came asking for backup... didn't we send a team to the west docks? But... but then the orders changed, Miss Anna said her wedding flowers were more important, and redirected our team to escort duty at the airport... that crew never made it to the docks..."

He remembered. I had knelt on the ground, begging humbly.

At that time... he had thought I was just playing games!

He had even allowed Anastasia's bullying and humiliation of me.

He grabbed his aide by the collar, his voice hoarse with shock and anger: "Is what he saying true?! Where the hell did that team go?!"

The aide, pale with fear, nodded with difficulty: "Y-yes, Young Master Donovitch. The orders... they were changed later, it was... it was Miss Anna's idea..."

"And what about the information about the ambush on the Volkov family Leone roared, drawing the attention of many guests, "Why didn't our informants report this?!"

The aide lowered his head even further: "We... we verified it... there was indeed a fierce firefight at the west docks that day, involving the Volkov family and some unknown forces... the report... it actually came in, but it was... suppressed... our people found that the traitor who sold the Volkovs' information... the trail leads to... to an intermediary Miss Anna often deals with..."

More pieces clicked into place.

Anastasia hadn't just redirected the rescue team—she might have sold the information beforehand! She wasn't just humiliating me; she wanted my father dead!

Leone felt the room spin.

Before his eyes flashed the desperate yet determined look in my eyes as I knelt on the ground, the bloody wounds on my back, the vacant expression when he threw away my mother's locket...

He had thought I was acting, putting on a show to gain sympathy and his attention!

Turns out... turns out everything I said was true!

And he, Leone Donovitch, hadn't just failed to save me—he had enabled Anastasia, believing her lies!

"Anastasia!" he turned sharply to the woman in the gorgeous wedding dress beside him, his eyes filled with unprecedented shock and rage, "Tell me! Did you change the orders for the Soldatos?! Did you sell information about the Volkov family?!"

Anastasia flinched, stepping back, the color draining from her face.

She tried to compose herself, tears instantly flooding her eyes: "Leone... my love... what... what are you talking about? Why can't I understand? Did Elena say these things to you? She's lying to you..."

"Shut up!" Leone cut her off harshly, his voice like it came from hell, "I'm asking you! Yes or no!"

His gaze was terrifying, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Anastasia had never seen him like this. She knew she couldn't hide anymore. Her legs buckled, nearly collapsing to the floor. She managed to steady herself by gripping a nearby table, weeping as if her heart were breaking: "I... I only did it because I love you so much, Leone! I was afraid of losing you! Elena... she just wouldn't leave us alone, her father wanted to use her to tie you down... I just wanted... to teach her a lesson... I never thought it would come to this..."

Leone looked at her tear-streaked face and felt only disgust and hypocrisy.

Her selfishness and foolishness had destroyed an entire Mafia family.

He didn't look at her again. He roughly pushed through the crowd, striding out of the wedding hall under the shocked stares of all the guests.

The opulent wedding fell into an instant silence, leaving wedding guests standing frozen, her face as pale as paper.