Giovanni's POV

"Those earrings belong to my mum! Are you trying to steal her things now—after stealing her place?" Eric's, my stepson voice boomed through the hall the moment I stepped in. "So now you're even trying to look like her to get attention? Take them off. Now!"

All eyes were suddenly on me.

He's my twin sister’s son—the boy I’ve raised like my own since she passed away.

"Eric, stop it," I managed to say, my voice barely steady.

Then, he burst into tears.

"Daddy, daddy, she's trying to steal my mummy’s place on her birthday! Will you just stand there and watch her?"

My chest tightened. I almost cried.

I expected Mark my husband to step in, but he just stood watching the scene. I knew he despised me—I was just a replacement for my dead sister. But I never imagined he'd let a ten-year-old humiliate me in front of everyone.

"I’m only trying to connect with my sister," I stuttered.

"Liar, a murderer, you killed her" he shouted, and

there were murmurs in the crowd. Everyone’s words twisted against me like knives. Like I was the bad one. Like I was the intruder.

I humiliation was much that I couldn't breath through it, so I ran away.

******

Once in my room, I fell onto my bed, tears pouring down my face.

Today was my birthday too, but no one ever celebrated me. Every year, it was her birthday they celebrated—even though she’s been dead for five years.

I couldn’t help but wonder—who celebrates the dead over the living?

Eric used to be a sweet boy before my sister passed away when he was five. But now, he hates me. He always says I had the chance to save her, but I didn’t. How could I, when I’m also living with one kidney? He hates me, but I tolerate him because I promised my sister. I only promised to take care of her son, but my parents convinced me to marry Mark so that no woman would ever take my sister’s place.

I picked up my phone and dialed my mum’s number.

“Mum, I’m done with this. I want a divorce. I can’t continue with Mark and Eric anymore,” I said, straight to the point.

“Giovanni… Are you kidding?” she asked. “Eric is just a kid. He’s your son too. Remember, you promised your sister—he’s your responsibility.”

“He made it clear, Mum. I’m not his mother. He hates me. I thought this was supposed to end. I agreed to this because I wanted to help raise Eric. But he’s ten now. He’s not a baby anymore.”

“See who’s here, pretending to be the victim,” Eric said, standing by my door with a wicked grin on his face.

“Mum, let’s talk later,” I said and hung up.

I stood up from the bed, facing him even though I felt completely drained.

“Eric, why do you keep doing this to me?” I asked.

“I hate you. Your pretending disgusts me.” Before I knew it, he pulled out the toy gun he had been hiding and sprayed it. I realized too late that he had mixed chili pepper with the water—the moment it touched my eyes, it burned like fire.

He laughed as he watched me suffer.

“I’m going to make your life miserable until you leave. This is my mother’s home. You can never take her place. You watched her die, and now you want to shine and live like nothing happened.”

His face showed nothing but hatred. I never imagined he would grow up like this. I had tried everything to be there for him as a mother.

“I’m going to leave for good tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry,” I said, my voice low, and walked out of the room.

I was tired. Emotionally drained. But nothing prepared me for what I saw in the living room.

My music award—shattered on the floor.

I froze.

That was the only thing I’d ever been proud of. A symbol of everything I once dreamed of. I earned it after that one big performance years ago. The one Giulia—my twin—helped me pull off, despite our father disapproval.

My jaw tightened.

“Did you like that? I heard you love surprises” Eric said, voice sweet like poison.

I turned to him slowly, the rage rising in my chest.

“How could you?” I snapped, louder than I intended.

He flinched. I saw it. Probably because it was the first time I ever raised my voice at him.

“You’re going to fix this.”

But before he could speak, a strong hand yanked me back. I was thrown to the floor—hard. Pain shot through my spine as I hit the tiles.

I whimpered, biting back a scream.

"Have you gone crazy? Is this how you treat kids?" Mark's voice was cold, sharp like a slap to the face.

He looked at the shattered award on the floor. "You're making a scene over an ordinary award?"

Ordinary to him. But to me, it was a memory. A moment I held onto when everything else was falling apart.

"Clean up the mess," he said. "And stop trying to stir things up."

I didn’t move. My voice was steady, even though my hands were shaking.

“Mark, let’s divorce.”

Giovanni POV

"Did you just say divorce? Is that word a joke to you?" he asked, his tone heavy with exhaustion.

"Why are you being so childish? How could you take the words of a kid so seriously?"

"I really don’t want to have this discussion right now. I have a lot running through my head." He wouldn’t even let me say a word. Did he think I just threw that word around carelessly? He needs to know—I’m dead serious.

He was about to walk out but paused.

"Don’t bother waiting. I won’t be coming back home. I have more important things to deal with—not this nonsense," he said, then slammed the door behind him.

Even if he stayed away for months, who would dare stop him? But he better realize—I’m not joking. I hate that he always walks away whenever we’re having a conversation. Who am I to complain, though? I was only ever in his life because I was useful. A means to an end.

But I’ll change that.

I refuse to live in the shadows of myself.

My gaze dropped to the shattered award on the floor. Tears blurred my vision. This was my only achievement. The only thing that reminded me I used to be someone—used to be a bright student who's ready to leveled up as a musician. I wished I could fix it. But what could possibly hold broken glass together?

I sat there like answers were going to fall from the ceiling.

Sleep never came that night.

Eventually, I gathered the pieces, carefully, and placed them in a small box.

If I can’t have my award whole, maybe I can at least hold onto the pieces.

My alarm started ringing, reminding me it was already morning. Right then, a message popped up on my phone. It was from Mum. "Come home"

I wasn’t that surprised. Like I had been expecting it. I quickly changed into something simple and left.

***

When I arrived, I walked straight into the living room. Mum was setting the table, arranging plates like everything was normal.

“Come over here, daughter. Let’s eat first before we talk,” she said with a smile. “I made your favorite.”

Her excitement was obvious—but I wasn’t smiling back. I knew this trick. She always used food to soften me before saying what she really wanted.

I didn’t move. My face said enough.

She wiped her hands and came over, sitting beside me on the sofa.

“Eric is just a child,” she began, her voice soft, like always. “You should understand him by now. He’s just hurting… from losing a mother. You should know better.”

I scoffed.

“I was there,” I said, my voice low but heavy. “I gave everything for him to feel a mother’s love. I sacrificed myself—but he never appreciated it.”

"Remember he's your blood, your own blood, born by your own sister," she said, her voice low.

"I tried my best, Mum. I did everything. But not anymore. I'm tired. I want to find myself again," I said, feeling that heaviness rise in my chest. I used to be happy—really happy. Even when Dad refused to support my music dreams, I still snuck out to perform, to sing, to live. That was the life I saw for myself. Not this.

She stayed quiet for a moment, then took a long breath.

"Since you don't want to go on with this, then I don’t have to force you. You've also tried your best, hanging in till now."

That was the first time she had said something I truly wanted to hear.

She brought out a brown envelope and placed it on the table.

"That's it. Sign them."

I picked it up slowly and pulled the papers out.

"Divorce Papers."

It was written boldly across the top.

I felt a rush of excitement hit me. Finally I am going to dropped that family name LEONARDO. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the pen beside it and signed.

****

I got home late than planned. I used the key on the door—it clicked, but when I tried to push it open, it wouldn’t budge. That meant it was bolted from the inside. I couldn’t use the doorbell either; the battery was dead. I had just instructed the butler to fix it yesterday.

I knocked hard, but no one answered.

Just then, the door opened—and it was Eric.

“So, you shamelessly brought yourself back here. I was hoping you’d get hit by a car so you could finally leave this world.”

Those were the first words that came out of his mouth.

The clouds were getting heavier, warning it was going to snow soon. It was winter, after all.

“Let me in. It’s going to snow,” I said quietly.

“Eric, come here! The snow’s about to start falling. You’ll catch a cold,” I heard a woman’s voice call out.

She walked over, and I recognized her at once.

Stephanie Lewis—Mark’s so-called business partner and friend.

She looked at me, disgust in her eyes.

"You’ll have to go back to where you’re coming from," she said coldly. "Because I own here tonight."

Then she slammed the door in my face.

I stood there, silent.

The snow started to fall—slow at first, then heavier.

Giovanni POV

I could only watch them leave smiling happily at each other. My heart shattered into a million pieces. The boy I had spent many years of my life taking care of jumped into the hands of another woman so easily.

I wanted to go back and spend the night elsewhere, but the door burst open and the butler came out.

"Come inside, Mrs. Leonardo. I was told to call you," he said quickly.

I was stunned. Who among them had asked me to come inside? Without hesitating, I walked in

Getting into the living room, I saw them sitting in a romantic manner. Stephanie had her legs on his lap, and he was massaging her feet while they gisted and laughed.

Eric was there, eating apples and watching cartoon. What a sweet sight of a perfect family.

I pretended not to see them and started heading toward the stairs.

"Stop right there," he thundered.

I halted and looked back.

"Where the hell are you going?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

"So you’re gonna let my son starve? I heard he's been feeding on fruit since morning. Get in that kitchen and cook something for him. Not just for him—for all of us," he ordered. Eric is a picky eater, and I'm the only one allowed to make his food.

I smirked, feeling irritated, and answered, "You could get him something to eat. There are plenty of maids in the house."

"You know if he eats food made by someone else, he gets sick, do you want him dead?" he thundered.

"Then get your new woman to learn the recipes. Meet the head cook—she knows all my recipes. And by the way, I'm done with you. Expect divorce papers on your doorstep soon," I said, raising my brow.

He gripped my neck, cutting off my air.

"I guess I’ve been too gentle with you," he growled. "How dare you say divorce to my face? Who told you you could leave me? This is forever."

I scoffed and forced his hand off me. "Who said I’m doing forever with you?" I snapped, trying to catch my breath. "Ask Eric—he’s counting the minutes till I leave."

"Just get out of our life! I hate you! Can’t wait to see Daddy marry Aunty Stephanie!" Eric shouted, excitement all over his face.

"No, Eric, that's too harsh. You shouldn't say things that will break your mother's heart," Stephanie said, pretending to care.

"She's not my mum," Eric snapped. "She's evil. She's a witch. She's a murderer. Just leave and never come back."

I laughed bitterly. "I was going to leave eventually. Your dad should just marry her already. Since you're head over heels for her."

"Eric, go to your room," Mark said calmly.

Eric ran upstairs without looking back. I didn’t even flinch when he stepped closer to me, anger rolling off him.

"Since you're so desperate to leave," he said coldly, "let me help you."

He turned toward Stephanie kissed her lips, then said, without blinking, "Beat her up."

I couldn’t believe my ears. Beat me up?

I remembered hearing that Stephanie had learned martial arts while growing up. She didn’t hesitate. She walked toward me.

I tried to find a way to escape, but she gripped my hand, twisted it while I whinned in pain and give me a hard kick, making me fall to the floor. My head hit the ground hard, and pain shot through me.

Before I could recover, she threw punches at me.

I tried to fight back, but I was too weak.

Just then, the door burst open.

A group of people rushed into the living room.

I stayed where I was on the floor, dazed, but one guy came forward.

"Wonderful! you’re really here, Stephanie. Cheating on me with this pup?"

His tone was cold. His aura was something I couldn’t explain.

For the first time I saw Stephanie panic, fear was written all over her. "It’s not what you think, sweetie," Stephanie said, moving toward him.

He shoved her away without a second thought..

He moved closer to Mark.

"Son of a bitch, you're stealing for me now?" he asked and grabbed Mark by the neck.

"No, Don," Mark’s voice was shaky.

And that’s when I realized it—this was him.

The Mafia Lord.

The first time I saw Mark shiver in front of anyone.

"Then tell me what the hell is she doing in your house with this skimpy nightwear?" he demanded.

For some reason, I was excited. I tried to get up on my feet. The guy’s eyes shot toward me. He narrowed his eyes as he studied my face, then he ignored Mark and walked towards me, as if there was something interesting about my face.

"It's you. Giovanni Scofield," he called.

I froze, wondering how he knew who I was. Before I could say a word, he added,

"I have been looking everywhere for you."