Damian's brow tightened. "What did you say?"

Just as he was about to press me, Isabella came running frantically from the direction of the dining hall. "Damian! Something's happened! Our offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands have been frozen!"

The color drained from Damian's face. That account was one of the family's lifelines.

Isabella grabbed his arm, her face etched with panic. "That's the account Dad cares about most. If the FBI is onto it…"

Damian glanced at me, his demeanor instantly all business. "The accounts are an emergency. We'll talk after this is handled."

Without another word, he turned and strode down the corridor with Isabella, not even giving me a second glance.

I stood in the cold wind of the rose garden, watching them leave.

I wasn't surprised.

In his world, I would never be more important than the family's interests.

And that "we'll talk later" would most likely never happen.

Just like our wedding, a wedding no one truly cared about.

I had handled all the preparations myself anyway. All he had to do was sign the checks and show up.

Now that I had informed him, my part was done.

The penthouse was consigned to an agent for an anonymous sale, and my previous apartment was long empty. I suddenly realized I had nowhere to go.

I moved into a safe house the family provided for its senior members.

It was an unassuming brownstone in Brooklyn. While not as luxurious as the penthouse, it offered a welcome quiet.

The next few days were calm. I was busy finalizing the last of the handover procedures for my move to Nevada.

Suddenly, my office door was pushed open and Damian strode in.

He acted completely normal, as if our last tense conversation had never happened. He didn't mention my recent distance or my move.

He stopped in front of my desk, his tone as entitled as ever. "Family dinner tonight. We're going together."

The atmosphere at dinner was lively, with the conversation naturally circling around a recent financial breakthrough.

Isabella was seated next to Damian, animatedly talking about the charity gala.

The Don, his face glowing, trimmed the end of a cigar. His gaze shifted between Damian and Isabella, a knowing smile on his face.

"Damian, you and Isabella worked well together in Europe. The two of you, one is my head, the other my heart."

The Don set down his cigar and looked around the table.

"You're not getting any younger. You can't just bury yourself in family business forever. As for our Isabella, she can be a bit willful at times, but her heart is in the right place…"

The implication was clear.

The mood at the long table instantly froze. A few of the old-timers who knew the situation shot me furtive glances, their eyes a mix of pity and morbid curiosity.

Isabella's cheeks flushed. She let out a shy "Dad," then looked at Damian with eyes full of expectation.

I kept my gaze lowered, staring at the deep red wine in my glass, my fingertips digging into my palm under the table.

Damian was silent for a few seconds before setting down his glass. His tone was as calm as ever. "Don, thank you for the high praise. But my focus is on expanding our territory. I have no plans for marriage at the moment."

The blush on Isabella's face vanished, leaving her skin stark white.

She stared at Damian in disbelief, her eyes quickly welling up. She shot to her feet, a hand flying to her mouth, and fled the dining room.

"Bella!" the Don said, frowning.

Damian's gaze followed the direction Isabella had fled. He sighed and rose to his feet.

"My apologies, Don. I'll go check on her."

The room was left in dead silence.

The Underboss, sitting next to me, leaned in and said in a low, teasing voice,

"Ava, what's this all about? Damian didn't even mention your engagement."

"You want me to say something to the Don?"

I shook my head and took a sip of wine. "There's no need."

A relationship that neither party was willing to acknowledge would only become a joke if brought up by a third person.

My stomach churned. I stood up and walked out to the terrace for some air.

The terrace had a perfect view of the private garden below.

In the dim light, I saw two figures beneath the old oak tree.

Isabella was sobbing in Damian's arms, her words coming out in broken fragments.

"Why not? Damian, I love you… I know I'm not mature enough, not as capable as Ava…"

"But I can learn! I can do everything she does for you!"

Damian wasn't holding her, but he wasn't pushing her away either. He just let her tears soak his shirt.

That tolerance alone said enough.

I thought of all the times over the past ten years I had tried to get close to him in moments of vulnerability.

Every single time, the slightest brush of a fingertip was met with an instinctive stiffening, a retreat.

Just then, as if sensing something, Damian's head snapped up toward the terrace.

My face was a blank mask. I met his gaze calmly, as if watching a drama that had nothing to do with me.

Only my hand, hanging by my side, had lost all its warmth.

Damian's pupils seemed to contract, or maybe it was just a trick of the light.

Isabella, still lost in her sorrow, didn't notice.

"I know you better than she does, I know how to make you happy…"

I turned and walked away, not sparing them another glance.

Back in the private room, I excused myself, claiming I wasn't feeling well.

The Underboss looked at me with concern, but ultimately said nothing.

I walked back to the safe house alone, feeling hollow, the last embers in my heart turning to ash.

I had just finished washing up and was about to go to bed when there was a knock on the door.

I pulled it open to find Damian standing in the dim hallway light.

I looked at Damian standing outside my door. I didn't step aside or speak. I just let my eyes ask what he wanted.

He stared at me for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence.

"About Isabella… I turned her down."

He paused, then added an explanation.

"She was just emotional. Don't overthink it."

I was surprised. I had expected him to tell me he was with Isabella now.

But here he was, telling me he had rejected her.

He was even worried I would "overthink it," so he had come to explain.

"Damian," I said, my tone flat. "Whether you accept her or not has nothing to do with me anymore."

Clearly, Damian hadn't expected this reaction. Complete indifference, without even a hint of relief.

"If there's nothing else, I'm going to bed." I reached for the door.

"Ava." Damian's large hand shot out, slamming against the doorframe and blocking my path.

He leaned in, his voice dropping a few degrees. "You've been… off lately."

I avoided his scrutinizing gaze and pushed the door shut. With a soft click, the lock engaged.

The door now separated me from the face I had looked up to for a decade.

I leaned against the cold door, slowly exhaling.

My chest ached, a heavy, suffocating weight.

It wasn't Damian's style to come and explain things like this. In his world, explanations were for the weak.

In the past, I had been so careful to hide my every emotion, all of which revolved around him, and he had never even noticed.

But tonight, after I showed no reaction to Isabella's confession, he had come all this way to "clarify" things, just to placate me.

I didn't understand why. Maybe it was to maintain some sense of order and rules, or maybe it was just to assuage his own guilt.

A mix of absurdity and a faint, sour feeling washed over me. The more I thought, the more my head throbbed.

I don't know how long I stood there before the ringing of my phone snapped me back to reality.

"Ava! Did you see the file that was just posted on the family's internal server?"

"How did Isabella get made lead administrator for the Phoenix system? That's the channel you nearly died to secure!"

"That encryption algorithm, the one that can bypass FBI surveillance… you pulled all-nighters for three months straight, you went in as bait on the dark web! That's the family's financial lifeline!"

My heart plummeted and my blood ran cold.

"What did you say?"

"Check the internal announcement! The sole creator and operator of the Phoenix system is listed as Isabella Rossi! Even Damian has taken a backseat! What the hell is going on?"

I dropped the phone, rushed to my computer, and logged into the encrypted server.

A top-secret file was pinned to the top of the announcement board. I couldn't miss it.

[In recognition of Miss Isabella Rossi's independent construction of the 'Phoenix' intelligent laundering system, which single-handedly saved the family's financial operations from crisis, she is hereby appointed as the Head of the Financial Division…]

"Phoenix." It was my masterpiece, a system powerful enough to change the entire financial landscape of the underworld.

It was the impenetrable shield I had exhausted myself creating, all to help Damian solidify his power among the Five Families.

In the underworld, whoever controlled this secure laundering channel held the family by the throat.

But now, the credit for this career-making achievement, an achievement that could elevate anyone to the top, bore only Isabella's name.

Damian had even graciously removed his own name from the project, gifting all the credit, mine included, to her.

As if he were merely a selfless collaborator.

Rage tore through me. I snatched my phone and dialed Damian's private number.

"What's this about the credit for 'Phoenix'?" I asked the moment he answered.

Damian's steady voice came through the receiver, the sound of a moving car in the background.

"I turned down her confession. She was a wreck, and her authority within the family took a hit."

I almost laughed out loud, my fingers digging into the edge of the desk.

"So? You use my life's work as a consolation prize for her?"

"That was my creation! You took my weapon and used it as a favor to placate your little princess! Did you ask me? Did you get my permission?"

Damian's tone remained infuriatingly calm as he sidestepped the real issue.

"The core of the system is on our server. She handled the final key generation. Crediting her as the creator serves the family."

"Ava, the system belongs to the family. Isabella is the Don's daughter. She needs a major achievement to command respect and keep the old guard in line. Your contribution will be reflected in your year-end bonus."

My voice began to tremble with a mix of indignation and a nauseating disgust.

Three months of sleepless nights, countless algorithmic models, all erased with his casual words.

It had even become his consolation prize to Isabella after he rejected her.

And to think I had actually felt a flicker of hope for his late-night explanation.

So this was it. In his eyes, my dignity, my talent, even I myself, could be carved up and served on a platter to soothe Isabella's bruised ego.

"Reflected? How? By paying me off for my silence?"

I took a deep breath, my voice turning cold.

"Damian, what do you take me for? Do you really think I'm just a shadow behind you? Someone who doesn't need a name or a face? Just a tool to build your empire?"

As the words left my mouth, I felt a clarity I had never known before.

For ten years, I had been setting myself on fire for a man who didn't even see me as a person.

And he thought it was his right.

The other end of the line went dead silent for a moment.

Then, Damian spoke again, and his words chilled me to the bone.

"Ava, let's be honest. You gave up a high-paying job on Wall Street to follow me. Wasn't it because you wanted my protection?"

My hand tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white.

He continued, his logic infuriatingly clear.

"If that's the case, then a meaningless title shouldn't matter to you."

"Isabella is different. She's a potential successor. She needs a weapon in her hands, and Phoenix is the perfect way for her to prove her capabilities to the entire underworld."

A roar filled my ears, and my blood ran cold.

He knew.

He knew all along. Every compromise I made, every time I swallowed my pride, every time I willingly stood in his shadow… he saw it all.

It wasn't that he didn't understand. He just didn't care.

He even saw my love for him as a license to strip me of my dignity whenever he pleased.

Since I loved him, I was expected to sacrifice my life's work for his "greater good," for his family.

My mouth opened, but my throat was filled with the metallic taste of blood.

I wanted to ask him what gave him the right. I wanted to ask if he knew that I was nearly flagged by Interpol cracking that dark web port.

But in the end, I said nothing. Any more words would just be another form of self-humiliation.

Exhausted, I just ended the call.

The next day, the internal showcase for the Five Families went on as scheduled.

This was the key meeting that would determine if the Costello family would dominate the money laundering channels for the next quarter.

Isabella stood confidently before the large screen, demonstrating the processing power of the 'Phoenix' system to the heads of the other families.

The capos and financial experts in the audience murmured their approval, marveling that the Don had produced such a brilliant daughter.

Then came the Q&A session. A request for an anonymous internal communication suddenly flashed onto the main screen.

A glaring red message popped up, accompanied by a piercing alert tone:

[I challenge the operational capabilities of the presenter, Miss Isabella Rossi. The core logic lock of this system uses an architecture originally created three years ago by Miss Ava Moretti.]

[Furthermore, the current demonstration has a fatal flaw. In the event of a capital overload, the entire dark web coordinate system will be exposed to the FBI. May I ask Miss Rossi, as the "creator," what is your emergency kill switch protocol?]

Isabella didn't know the first thing about algorithms. She didn't even know what a kill switch was.

She stared at the words, her face instantly turning ashen. The clicker in her hand fell to the floor with a clatter, and her panicked gaze shot to Damian in the audience.

The host tried to regain control of the room, but the whispers were already too loud to contain.

"Knew that airhead princess didn't suddenly grow a brain."

"So she stole it? And she stole something that wasn't even finished?"

I sat in the corner, my heart hammering in my chest.

I didn't do this. I would never resort to such a scorched-earth tactic.

I wouldn't stoop to something so underhanded.

Just then, a cold gaze cut through the chaotic crowd and locked onto me.

I looked up and met Damian's deep grey eyes.

He stared at me from across the room, his brow furrowed, his expression a mask of undisguised suspicion and profound disappointment.

He didn't even have to speak. I read everything in his eyes.

He was convinced that I, bitter about having my work stolen, had deliberately sabotaged the meeting in front of the Five Families, putting the family's interests at risk.

He saw me as the kind of person who would destroy Isabella's future, even if it meant damaging the family's reputation.

My heart sank.

Damian stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and strode onto the stage.

He took the microphone from the trembling Isabella, shielding her with his body. "Gentlemen, my name is Damian Costello."

"Regarding the anonymous query, I will offer one final clarification."

"The entire underlying logic of the Phoenix system was architected independently by Isabella, under my direct authorization. She is the sole owner of this system. I stake my reputation as Consigliere on it."

"As for the 'flaw' that was mentioned, that is a bait program Isabella deliberately left for counter-surveillance purposes. She simply hadn't had the chance to explain it yet."

He paused.

His cold eyes turned to me again. "As for the mention of Ava Moretti…"

He let out a small, dismissive laugh. "Ava is merely my administrative assistant. She handles filing and fetches coffee. She lacks the strategic vision and technical capability to architect a financial system of this magnitude on her own."

The room exploded.

"So that Ava is just a gofer?"

"I knew it. The rumors about her were always overblown."

"Sounds like some secretary's pathetic attempt to climb the ladder..."

I froze in my seat, feeling as if he had stripped me naked in front of everyone and lashed me with a whip.

Ten years of fighting side-by-side, countless times saving the family from financial ruin.

And from his lips, it all became "fetching coffee."

He had publicly nullified my entire worth.

He denied my skills, denied my sacrifices, denied the very meaning of my existence.

And he did it all just to protect a princess who didn't even understand the basics of her own supposed creation.

I felt a wave of humiliation and despair unlike anything I had ever known.

Damian turned back to the teary-eyed Isabella behind him, his voice instantly soft.

"Bella, don't be afraid."

"Continue with your presentation. I'm right here."