Everyone said the same thing: the revered Godfather of Sicily's jewelry empire never lied, that he loved me with every fiber of his being, heart and soul laid bare.

But now, those words made my stomach turn. Every syllable drove into me like a needle through flesh.

I thought of the plan I'd just agreed to with that man. I steadied myself, forcing the hatred and trembling back down into the pit of my chest.

Expressionless, I helped a dead-drunk Samuel into the armored sedan.

He collapsed against my lap, the permanent furrow between his brows finally smoothing out. Stripped of his cold calculation, he looked almost harmless. Like a child.

"Selene... why... why can't it be me..."

The slurred murmur drifted up, and my entire body went rigid. I finally made out the name he'd been whispering through countless midnight dreams.

Selene Blanc. The woman who destroyed my mother. Who destroyed everything I had. The same woman who'd bullied me relentlessly, who dragged me into the dark. She was the moonlight he'd carved into his bones, the one he kept hidden in the deepest chamber of his heart.

Samuel had never forgotten her. Five years of tenderness and devotion had been nothing but a performance, a farce staged for Selene's benefit.

My mother's death. The collapse of my family's empire. The lie of my marriage. All of it was a show, orchestrated by my ex-fiancé and my husband to please Selene Blanc. My entire family had been nothing more than stepping stones.

I'd been too naive. Too stupid. I'd underestimated the depth of his obsession with her and foolishly mistaken this con for salvation.

A custom cufflink studded with tiny diamonds slipped from the lapel of his perfectly pressed suit and rolled onto the floor mat.

As I bent to pick it up, my gaze caught the tablet he'd tossed aside. The screen lit up on its own, and an encrypted message flashed across it. Every word burned:

"Godfather Rowe, thank you so much for pulling strings and securing the exclusive premier booth at the International Jewelry Expo for me! But the raw gemstone vein in Sicily that you've promised is far too precious. I feel terribly guilty accepting it and truly don't know how to repay you!"

The tablet jumped to a private feed. Selene's post glared back at me: "Only a true queen of jewelry deserves the world's most precious raw gemstone vein."

The photo showed her diamond-laden hand caressing a pigeon blood ruby of extraordinary color. It was Sicily's rarest mineral treasure, the kind every jeweler alive would kill to possess.

I knew exactly what Selene was doing. She'd meant for me to see all of this.

Last week, Samuel had pulled three consecutive all-nighters to close what he called a "jewelry partnership." The red veins in his eyes were impossible to hide, and a rival's hired man had slashed a deep gash across his wrist. When the wound bled through his bandage, he hadn't even flinched.

I'd been heartbroken and furious, scolding him for not taking care of himself. I thought he was fighting for the family's jewelry legacy. I thought he was doing it to keep me safe.

It had all been for Selene. To win her that expo booth. To lay that precious gemstone vein at her feet. Even if it ground him down to nothing, he'd done it gladly.

As if possessed, my fingers drifted to the tablet's lock screen. A string of numbers punched themselves in, almost by instinct.

The last digit landed. The screen unlocked.

The passcode was Selene Blanc's birthday.

Samuel never let me touch his personal tablet. He said it was a rule for the Godfather of Sicily, that it contained core family secrets. Now I understood. There were no secrets. He was just afraid I'd glimpse the devotion to another woman hidden inside.

The home screen was a photo of Selene in profile. She stood in a jewelry showroom, beaming, her features bright with playful elegance.

No wonder his eyes always softened when he unlocked the tablet. That tenderness had never been for me.

My hands trembled as I opened the file folders. Every single one was named after Selene Blanc. Rows and rows of albums, so many they made my vision swim.

[Selene — Jewelry Expo]

[Selene — Gala Outfits]

[Selene — Raw Gemstone Tastings]

Photo after photo. Selene in couture gowns. Selene draped in dazzling jewels. Selene glowing at one grand jewelry event after another.

Over a thousand photos. Not a single one of me. Not even one of himself. From first to last, only Selene.

Just like his heart. From beginning to end, it had only ever belonged to her. I was nothing but a passing stranger, a tool for easing his guilt.

The car rolled through the gates of the Castle. I stared at the familiar grounds through the window and felt cold seep into every bone.

My gaze drifted toward the estate's private gallery. That room had once held my mother's life's work: countless jewelry design manuscripts, along with the brand's irreplaceable collection of vintage raw gemstone samples. They were the testament to everything she'd built, year after year, from a young woman to an old one, pouring her soul into a jewelry empire.

Every time I looked at those manuscripts and stones, I felt she'd never really left. She was still beside me, helping me guard her dream.

Then one morning two years ago, all of it vanished. The manuscripts. The gemstones. Gone without a trace. The police investigated and concluded that everything had been anonymously destroyed. No leads.

I'd broken down completely. Samuel held me for three days and three nights without closing his eyes, murmuring comfort, promising he'd recover everything. He swore he'd protect my mother's legacy.

Now I finally understood. The one who destroyed it all had always been him. He was the one who'd obliterated the last thing my mother left me, who'd severed the final thread connecting me to her.

The tablet screen lit up again. A new encrypted message appeared, driving through my last shred of hope like an ice-tipped blade:

"Godfather, per your instructions, the asset transfer agreement has been drafted. All Sicily jewelry holdings under your name—including the raw gemstone veins, the jewelry ateliers, and the international distribution rights—will be transferred in full to Miss Blanc."

"Awaiting your final signature."

Through the blur of tears, I saw it again: my mother's funeral. Samuel in a somber, immaculate black suit, standing before her casket, making his solemn vow to me.

"Lois, I swear on my honor as the Godfather of Sicily's jewelry empire. I will protect you for the rest of my life. I will give you a safe and stable home. Everything under my name is yours."

How laughable. How bitterly ironic.

Those earnest promises had been nothing but another carefully woven lie.

Samuel, did you forget? Those assets once belonged to me. Without my signature, I'd love to see how Selene Blanc plans to get her hands on any of it.

I laid Samuel gently on the bed. This time, I didn't carefully remove his shoes and socks the way I always had. I didn't spare him another glance. I turned and walked straight into the guest room, locking the door behind me, sealing out that nauseating tenderness and the lingering scent of him.

Before I closed my eyes, memories flickered unbidden through my mind. All those years of him supposedly "doting on me." Sweet soup delivered late at night. New clothes every time the season changed. Front-row seats at jewelry exhibitions.

Scenes that had once moved me to tears now pieced themselves together into something grotesque. Something mocking. Like a dull blade sawing across my heart, stroke after agonizing stroke.

Morning light filtered through the Castle's stained-glass windows, scattering fragments of color across my face. My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring directly into Samuel's gaze, still soft, still tender.

He leaned in close, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead.

I turned my head away on instinct.

He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He assumed I was upset about his drinking and softened his voice even further, coaxing and intimate.

"Lois, were you unhappy last night? I'm sorry. I had too much at the family meeting. I promise it won't happen again. Don't be mad at me, okay?"

"Selene's coming over soon. Leave me a little dignity, will you? Don't let anyone see that the Godfather of Sicily can't even keep his own wife happy."

Gentle as always. Considerate as ever. But every word landed like ice against my skin.

I kept my expression blank, gave a flat murmur of acknowledgment, then turned and pulled out the divorce agreement I'd drafted the night before. I'd slipped it between the pages of a jewelry auction document.

"Sign this and buy it for me. Then I won't be angry."

Samuel was about to open the file when his phone lit up. I caught the name on the screen: Selene.

His expression shifted. Softened. Not the perfunctory warmth he usually gave me. This was real. A smile that came from somewhere deep inside him.

He flipped to the last page of the document, signed his name without reading a single word, and stood up to take the call.

I stared at the freshly signed divorce agreement. A sharp sting pierced my chest.

I thought of my mother's death. The ruin of my family. The plan I'd made with Joshua.

I steadied myself.

I retreated into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let scalding water pour over me. I tried to wash away every trace of Samuel's scent, tried to scour away the truths that had carved themselves, word by word, into my skull.

When I stepped out, the long dining table was laden with an elaborate spread of brunch pastries. Shrimp dumplings, siu mai, custard tarts. Every single one had been my favorite, once upon a time. Every time I'd seen them laid out like this, I'd been touched for hours afterward. Now, looking at the delicate spread, my stomach lurched violently. I couldn't summon even the ghost of a smile.

Because I understood now, with brutal clarity. These weren't my favorites.

They were Selene's.

The woman who had destroyed my mother. The woman who had destroyed everything I had. These were her favorites.

The doorbell rang. Through the glass of the foyer, I saw Selene standing outside in the latest couture jewelry gown, her makeup immaculate, a servant trailing behind her. She pushed the door open and walked straight to the dining table as if she owned the place. She sat down without so much as a glance in my direction, her tone dripping with casual familiarity.

"Lois, sorry to intrude. The Godfather and I have the Sicily gemstone mine transfer meeting this morning. He told me to come to the Castle for breakfast first so we could leave together."

My gaze locked onto the silver badge in her hand. It bore the Castle's exclusive crest. An all-access pass, identical to the one I held. The highest-level credential in the entire estate, issued only to the Godfather's most trusted inner circle.

My fingers tightened around my teacup until my knuckles went white. I said nothing.

Samuel noticed something was off. He stood quickly, moved to my side, and leaned in close, his voice low and tinged with a barely perceptible edge of panic.

"Lois, don't misunderstand. Selene is our family's most important jewelry partner and the person I trust most. It's perfectly normal for her to have an all-access badge for the Castle."

Before he'd even finished speaking, something seemed to occur to him. He tensed, rose abruptly, and strode to Selene's side. In one swift motion, he snatched the cup of espresso she'd just poured.

"Your blood pressure runs low. I've told you a hundred times, you can't drink espresso. It's terrible for you. After all these years, you still don't take care of yourself?"

He turned to the sideboard, retrieved a cup of warm almond milk, and placed it carefully in her hands. The anxiety in his eyes, the tenderness, was something I had never once seen in five years of marriage.

Selene accepted the almond milk, pressed her lips together in a coy smile, and gazed up at him with her eyes curved into crescents, her voice playful and sweet.

"That's right. All these years, I've been so lucky to have the Godfather remembering every little thing about my health, looking out for me at every turn."

In that single moment their eyes met, the air between them seemed to shimmer with something pink and intimate. The atmosphere solidified around them, and I became a stranger. An intruder. Completely shut out of whatever world the two of them shared.

A chill shot from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I couldn't take it anymore. I shoved my chair back and stood, ready to leave the dining room, but Selene's voice stopped me.

"Lois, wait."

She set down her almond milk and looked up at me. A calculating smile curled the corner of her mouth.

"I have a private jewelry showcase this afternoon. I need professional still-life photography for the rare gemstones and design sketches, to put together a promotional catalog. The new photographers are all subpar, so I specifically requested you. The Godfather agreed."

My body went rigid. My blood felt like it had frozen solid in my veins.

A private jewelry showcase? Professional still-life photography?

I hadn't touched a camera since my mother died.

The moment I saw that black camera body, the moment I looked through that cold viewfinder, the memories came flooding in, beyond my control. My mother sitting at her desk, guiding my hands, teaching me how to photograph jewelry designs. My mother in front of the lens, radiating confidence as she presented her newest collection. And my mother, the light draining from her eyes, shattered by the news that her patents had been leaked.

That was the deepest wound I carried. The one I could never bear to touch.

Samuel knew that better than anyone.

He had locked every piece of my photography equipment in the Castle's vault himself. He'd told me that whenever I was ready, he'd bring it all out again.

But now, as if the memory had been wiped clean from his mind, he ignored my resistance. He seized my wrist, dragged me to the armored car, and pushed me into the back seat.

"Lois, stop being difficult. The showcase is important. Selene's jewelry brand just launched, and this promotion is critical for her. Just bear with it and sit in the back."

He turned to Selene, his voice dropping into something warm and solicitous. "Selene, you get carsick easily. I've told the driver to slow down, and I had a neck pillow put in for you. Take the front seat. You'll be more comfortable."

I sat in the jolting back seat, my stomach heaving, gripping the overhead handle so hard my knuckles turned bone-white.

My motion sickness was far worse than Selene's.

Three years ago, Samuel had been ambushed by a rival faction, cornered and badly wounded at a mining site. I was the one who drove. I got behind the wheel with him unconscious and bleeding beside me, and I drove us out. I was three months pregnant. The violent escape cost me the baby, and left me with a severe phobia of rough car rides.

But he'd forgotten all of it.

He remembered that Selene got uncomfortable in bumpy cars. He forgot that I suffered through every single one.

The car pressed on. Each jolt felt like a blade peeling back another layer of my nerves. I fought the nausea down, refusing to let myself be sick, but the bile kept climbing higher in my throat.

My phone screen lit up. Based on the timing, it had to be a message from Joshua.

I was about to check it when Samuel grabbed the phone out of my hand.

"What message is so important? If you're carsick, stop staring at your phone. Rest."

He tapped the screen out of habit, trying to open it, but the passcode stopped him.

My heart lurched. Samuel had always known my passcode. It was our wedding anniversary. I'd forgotten to change it these past few days. If he saw my conversations with Joshua, it would jeopardize everything. My escape. My revenge.

But Samuel tried three times and failed to unlock it. He handed the phone back with a trace of irritation, reminding me again not to use my phone while carsick.

He couldn't even remember our wedding anniversary.

I closed my eyes. A wave of cold settled over my heart.

We finally arrived at the showcase venue. The first thing Samuel did was step out of the car and carefully smooth out Selene's skirt. He checked her protective gear, then took her hand himself and escorted her into the gemstone exhibition area.

And me? I clung to the car door, crouched on the ground, gasping for air, trying to fight through the dizziness. Cold sweat beaded across my forehead.

"Lois, stop standing around outside. The showcase is about to start. The documentation work is important. It matters to the family and to Selene. Don't be selfish."

Samuel had come back at some point. He grabbed my wrist and hauled me into the exhibition area. I stumbled, off-balance. The camera bag nearly spilled from my hands, and a lens struck the ground with a sharp, brittle crack.

This was the first time in five years I had picked up a camera.

Terror engulfed me in an instant. My fingers shook uncontrollably, violently, and I couldn't press the shutter.

I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to be calm. One deep breath. Then I began, frame by frame, documenting the still-life displays at the showcase. But every time the shutter clicked, I saw my mother. Teaching me. Guiding my hands. My heart felt crushed in an invisible fist, squeezed so tight I couldn't breathe.

During the intermission, the rest of the staff left to take a break. Only Selene and I remained.

She walked over, loomed above me, and looked down at the images I'd captured. A sneer of pure contempt twisted her lips. Her voice was cutting and cruel.

"Lois Simmons. You're just as useless as your mother. Couldn't even protect a core patent. Just stood there and watched while someone leaked it, drove her into a heart attack, and now you can't even take a decent photograph. Your hands are shaking like a leaf."

"A deserter on the battlefield. You couldn't even protect your own mother. What makes you think you deserve to stand beside the Godfather of Sicily? Let alone hold the title of his wife."

I gripped the camera so hard my knuckles went white. My nails dug into my palms, nearly breaking skin. Every ounce of willpower I had went into holding back the fury threatening to erupt.

Then a sharp, vicious slap cracked across my face.

The sound rang out, crisp and piercing.

Burning pain bloomed instantly, spreading across my cheek. My ears buzzed with a high-pitched ringing.

Selene lowered her hand, her eyes brimming with contempt and disdain. Her voice turned even more venomous.

"You actually think you deserve to sit in the Godfather's wife's seat? I never imagined that after Grayson dumped you, you'd latch onto Samuel so quickly. Absolutely shameless."