The air in the room thickened with tension the moment Vito stepped inside, closing the door with a soft but final click. His expression was unyielding, his presence oppressive.

“What’s going on?” I asked, barely managing to steady my voice. “Where’s Marco? Why would he leave me like this, with just a letter?”

Vito’s gaze softened, but the truth in his words was sharp and cutting. “He’s gone, Celia. He’s not coming back. Marco’s leaving you for her—for Victoria. She’s pregnant, and he’s chosen her.”

I stumbled back, grabbing the wall for support. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. Marco and I have been married for five years. He promised me. He loved me.”

Vito’s jaw tightened, his hesitation barely masking his resolve. “Celia, your marriage… it wasn’t what you thought. It was a business arrangement, a contract. Marco didn’t marry you for love. He married you for power—to solidify his position and secure the Moretti name. You were part of his plan, not his heart.”

The words struck me like a physical blow. I sank onto the arm of the couch, my hands trembling. “No,” I croaked. “That’s not true. We built a life together. He said he loved me.”

Vito stepped closer, his voice softer now but no less devastating. “Your father arranged it before he died. The marriage wasn’t for you—it was for what you represented. Marco needed your family’s name, your connections. And now, with Victoria carrying his child, he’s ended the façade. He’s moving on with her.”

My world crumbled. The man I had loved, trusted, and built my life around had never been mine. I pressed my hands to my face, the tears I had been holding back finally spilling over.

“I need you to see this,” Vito said after a long silence, placing a manila envelope on the table.

I looked at it, dread tightening around my chest. With trembling hands, I opened it and pulled out the documents inside. My breath hitched as I read the first page:

Marriage Contract: Celia Moretti and Marco Moretti.

Clause after clause laid bare the cold, calculated reality of my marriage. Financial agreements, stipulations, and even a payment of one billion dollars. It was all there in black and white.

“This can’t be real,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Vito sighed heavily. “It’s the truth, Celia. Marco’s choice is clear—he’s marrying Victoria and starting a family with her. You deserve to know that what you had with him… it wasn’t love. It was just part of the deal.”

The weight of betrayal crushed me. Marco had used me. Marco had never loved me.

“Celia,” Vito finally said, his voice soft but steady, “I never wanted this for you.”

I looked up at him, my tears blurring his figure. “You knew, didn’t you?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You knew about the contract. About everything.”

He didn’t deny it. His shoulders sagged as he nodded, the weight of his confession pressing down on him. “Yes, I knew. I knew from the beginning.”

His words felt like another betrayal, another knife twisting in my already wounded heart. “And you didn’t say anything? You just… let me believe it was all real?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, stepping closer. “And I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought Marco might…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “I thought he might learn to love you. But when I saw how he treated you, how he kept using you… I couldn’t stand by anymore.”

I shook my head, disbelief and anger swirling inside me. “You let me live a lie for years, Vito. You let me love a man who never loved me back. How could you do that to me?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “At first, I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong, Celia. I was so wrong.”

I turned away, my hands trembling as I wiped at my tears. “And now what? What am I supposed to do with this?” I gestured to the contract, the damning evidence of my hollow marriage. “My whole life has been a lie. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “I feel like I’m falling apart, Vito. I don’t even know where to begin picking up the pieces.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute.

I turned to him, confusion etched across my face. “What are you saying?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, “I’m saying I’ll be here for you, Celia.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with promise. I searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit, but all I saw was sincerity.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you do that for me?”

Vito’s eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his usually stoic demeanor.

“Because I care about you, Celia. More than I ever should have.”

The room seemed smaller, the walls pressing in as Vito’s confession echoed in my mind. He cared about me. More than he ever should have. But could I believe him?

“You expect me to trust you now?” I said, my voice sharp despite the lump in my throat. “After years of lies and watching Marco betray me?”

Vito sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, Celia. But if I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve stayed quiet and let Marco destroy you.”

His words cut deeper than I cared to admit. “So what now? You tell me my marriage was a lie, Marco chose someone else, and I’m just supposed to thank you?”

“No,” he said quietly. “You’re supposed to take back what’s yours.”

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Vito stepped closer, his voice dangerous. “Marco didn’t just betray you. He stole from you—your love, your trust, your future—and handed it to Victoria. He used you to build his empire, and now he thinks he can walk away scot-free.”

I swallowed. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”

“You don’t have to let him win,” Vito said. “Everything Marco has, he got because of you. The Moretti empire wouldn’t exist without your family’s name. Now, he’s cutting you out like you’re nothing.”

“I don’t care about his money or empire,” I said. “I just want to be free of him!”

“Do you?” Vito challenged. “Or do you want to make him pay for every lie, every broken promise?”

His question hung in the air. I hesitated, the idea both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.

“You don’t understand,” I said, “I’m not like Marco. I’m not…”

“You don’t have to be like him to beat him. You just have to want it.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why do you care?”

Vito hesitated, then spoke, his voice steady. “Because Marco doesn’t deserve to win. He thinks he’s erased you, but he’s wrong. You can take back what’s yours—your power, your dignity. You can make him regret everything.”

His words wrapped around me like a vice. The thought of Marco—his betrayal—sent a fresh wave of anger through me.

“Even if I wanted to do something,” I whispered, “how? What could I possibly do to hurt him?!”

“I’m offering you a choice,” Vito said smoothly. “You can let Marco decide your fate, or you can take control of it yourself.”

“This is just the beginning, Celia. With my help, you can rebuild your life—but not as Marco’s discarded wife. As the woman who destroyed him.”

I stared at him. The old Celia would have walked away. But she was gone.

“Revenge, Celia. Revenge…” Vito said.

“I’m in,” I said, the words tasting like poison—and power.

Vito’s smile was sharp, predatory. “Good. Let’s make him pay.”

I leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “How?” I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

Vito’s gaze locked onto mine, dark and calculating. “In ways Marco never saw coming. He won’t even know what hit him.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I felt my pulse quicken. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, the stakes rising higher.

Vito’s expression softened for just a moment, and then his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Marry me, Celia.”

The words struck me like a thunderclap, and my breath caught in my throat. I stared at him, stunned, unsure if I had heard him right.

Vito leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. “Marry me, and we’ll burn Marco’s world to the ground together.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. My heart raced as I struggled to comprehend what he was asking.

His words hung in the air, heavy with promise and purpose. He didn’t say it with desperation, but with certainty—like he believed it would complete the plan. Like he knew this was the next step.

I froze, the world around me fading. Marry him? I wanted revenge, but this? This felt like another layer to the plan—one that could truly send a message to Marco.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice tinged with skepticism. “You’re his right-hand man. I can’t believe you’d actually want this.”

Vito nodded, unflinching. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I’m offering this because it will change everything. It will make Marco understand that you can replace him, that you can rebuild your life without him.”

I hesitated, the thought weighing heavily on me. If Vito, the man trusted by Marco, was offering me this, it couldn’t be a coincidence. It felt like the ultimate trap, the ultimate plan to show Marco that I could easily replace him.

“You think this will make Marco regret it?” I asked, my voice tinged with doubt.

“It will,” Vito replied, his eyes steady, filled with a quiet intensity. “Because once Marco sees you with me, he’ll realize he never had a hold on you. Not really.”

His words felt both enticing and dangerous.

“Let’s make him regret it.” Vito convinced.

I stared at Vito, disbelief and anger swirling inside me. His proposal had hit me like a lightning bolt, but somehow, I knew there was no turning back. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Marco’s betrayal.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. The words tasted like poison on my tongue, but they were the only ones I could think of.

Vito’s lips curled into a slow, almost predatory smile. “Good. You’re making the right choice.”

Without another word, he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. The air in the room seemed to shift, crackling with an energy I hadn't expected. His hands cupped my face, so gentle yet both familiar and foreign. His thumb ran over my lower lip once, and I felt a sudden shiver down my spine.

And then, in a single, daring stroke, he kissed me.

I froze at first, every fiber of my being rebelling against the kiss. Then something in me snapped. Anger. Hatred. All the emotions I had bottled up for years, all directed at Marco—the man who had used me, betrayed me—I let the kiss happen.

I kissed him back.

For a moment, the world blurred and I let go of everything: my past, my anger, my heartache—everything but the taste of vengeance. But it was momentary. I pulled away, gasping, my heart hammering in my chest. Vito's eyes locked onto mine, his expression unreadable.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

The drive was quiet, the night pressing in around us as we sped through the dark streets. The city lights blurred by in a blur, but I could not focus on anything else than the tension in the air. I was leaving behind everything: my marriage, my life with Marco, everything I thought I knew. I was heading into the unknown.

“What’s next, Vito?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he replied, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alert. I knew Vito was leading me somewhere, but to where? I couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was coming.

And as the minutes ticked by, we finally left the city behind, the familiar skyline disappearing into the rearview mirror.

After what felt like an eternity, Vito's car slowed, and we turned down a narrow road, leading into a secluded area. The trees grew denser, the night darker.

My pulse quickened. What was going on? Where were we going?

Vito didn't respond. He just pulled up to a large, imposing gate. It looked out of place here, standing tall and unforgiving in the middle of nowhere.

I watched in silence as he pressed a button on the dashboard; the gates slowly creaked open. My heart skipped a beat.

We drove through, the road getting narrower, until we reached a huge building hidden in the shadows of the trees. It looked like a fortress, every window dark, every corner sharp.

“Who owns this place?” I asked, my voice shaking despite myself.

Vito’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

A shiver ran down my spine. My instincts screamed at me to turn back, but I couldn't. I wouldn't.

We pulled up in front of the huge stone stairs leading into the building, and as Vito shut off the engine, my door swung open.

“Come on, Celia” he said.

I hesitated for just a moment, and then I followed him into the cold, quiet air, the sound of our footsteps echoing.

As we ascended the steps and entered the building, I felt as if I had stepped into another world. The kind of world I had never known—and never expected.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Men in dark suits were standing in the main room, their faces unreadable. They looked like they were waiting for something.

And then, as my eyes scanned the room, I saw them.

The Viper Group.

My breath caught in my throat, my legs going weak beneath me.

The Viper Group. Marco's rival. The one he had battled for years. The group that no one crossed without paying a price. And now, here I was, in their midst, with no idea what I had just walked into.

Vito stepped forward, his presence commanding, and I followed, though every part of me screamed to run.

“You must be Celia Moretti,” a voice said from the shadows, cutting through the room.

My heart skipped a beat as the man stepped into the light. His face was cold, calculating, but there was something in his eyes that made my blood run cold.

"Welcome," he said, his smile icy. "We've been expecting you."

And in that moment, my heart raced. What had I just gotten myself into?