It was three in the morning. Dominic's phone screen flashed an unread message.

He was showering, the sound of water drowning out everything.

I hesitated for a moment, then picked it up.

The passcode was still my birthday.

But opening the photo album, I found thousands of photos crammed into the favorites folder, every single one of another woman.

Under the Eiffel Tower, Sienna wore a red dress, her smile bright.

A private dinner for two on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower, candlelight illuminating their intertwined fingers.

There was even a photo from a tattoo parlor.

Dominic stood bare-chested in the mirror, the tattoo artist’s needle piercing his chest, directly over the heart.

Where my name used to be: Elena Moretti, in elegant script, surrounded by rose vines.

The year we got married, he’d gotten it done while drunk. He showed it to me afterward, beaming.

"Elena, this is proof I love you."

I cried from the pain, but he held my hand, laughing like a child, "Knowing your name will always be on my heart, it's worth any pain."

But in the current photos, that skin was a tangle of twisted black thorns, obscuring the original design.

Sienna stood behind him, her fingers on his shoulder.

The date was last month.

The week he said he was going to London for business.

Scrolling further, I found an encrypted folder.

Its name was "Security for Her."

After failing three times, I finally remembered Sienna's birthday and opened it.

Inside was a scanned copy.

It was the equity transfer agreement for Moretti Spices Company.

On the last page, in the transferee’s column, was Sienna's name.

I let out a bitter laugh. My father’s life’s work, so easily signed over to that woman.

Before I could feel sad, the water stopped.

The bathroom door opened, and I quickly hid the phone.

Dominic walked out, bare-chested.

"Not asleep yet?" he asked, heading for the wardrobe to get a robe.

I stared at his left chest.

The black thorns had completely swallowed the mark of my name, stark under the light.

He followed my gaze down, his fingers idly tracing the skin.

"Looking at this?" His voice was quiet. "The old tattoo faded, so I got a new one."

"When?" My voice was rough, like sandpaper.

"Can't remember."

It was my birthday.

He said he was too busy with his business trip, and I sat alone until midnight, the cake melting.

So he was at the tattoo parlor, letting another woman watch him carve my name from his heart.

"Tired," he said, getting into bed. His arm instinctively went around my waist, like every night for the past three years. "Sleep, baby."

His familiar warmth pressed against my back.

I stared at the ceiling with open eyes, tears blurring my vision.

Memories flooded back like a tide.

He knew I liked grand gestures, so he always surprised me on our anniversaries.

The first year, it was a private island in the Maldives. The second, he accompanied me to Milan Fashion Week. The third, a private concert at the Vienna Golden Hall.

Last year, on my birthday morning, I woke up to find the entire bedroom filled with roses.

Dominic sat by the bed, a velvet box in his hand.

"You said you wanted a star," he opened the box, revealing a necklace inlaid with pink diamonds. "This is the closest thing to a star."

I cried and threw myself into his arms.

I thought that besides my father, Dominic was the best man to me.

But this year, on my birthday, he broke his promise and went to the tattoo parlor.

He let Sienna watch him erase my name from his heart.

I turned to look at the man sleeping in the bed.

Moonlight illuminated his face; his features remained perfect, like a marble deity.

But on the deity's chest, beat a devil's heart.

I finally understood. Those sweet moments were just dewdrops on a spiderweb, meant to lull the prey into a false sense of security, willingly giving up everything.

And what I gave up was my father's life, my family's fortune, and my own life for three whole years.

And now, this moth had to wake up.

Sienna's laughter woke me the next morning.

I walked into the hallway and found her clinging to Dominic's arm, acting like a spoiled child.

When she saw me, a flicker of unease crossed Dominic's face.

He walked over and whispered, "Sienna wants to learn perfumery. You're the expert, teach her for me."

I frowned. Before I could say anything,

Sienna had already pushed open the door to the scent lab herself.

"Oh my god, is this all real oud and ambergris?" Her shriek cut through the hallway. "Dominic, you spoil me rotten!"

My fingernails dug into my palm.

That was the raw material collection my father left me.

Every bottle was a treasure gathered from around the world by the Moretti family.

Some were long out of production, some were priceless.

Dominic explained softly from the side.

"Sienna needs a new perfume. The formula needs to be done in two weeks. She gets the credit. We've been married so many years and I haven't given her much. This can be a gift for her. No problem, right?"

My heart sank.

"Are you kidding me?"

"You know, Sienna grew up with me. She's like a little sister. She's finally interested in perfume, and you, her sister-in-law, can't help her?" Dominic looked at me, his amber eyes full of certainty.

I understood. This was an order, not a request.

Sienna leaned against the doorframe, a smug smile on her lips. "Sister Elena, you won't refuse, will you? After all, you're the Moretti family's best perfumer."

She deliberately emphasized the words 'Moretti family.'

As if reminding me my family was gone.

After my father died three years ago, the Moretti family fell apart.

The spice routes were redrawn, and even my father's painstakingly built lab was seized.

Only Dominic reached out.

He said he loved me, that he would protect me, let me continue doing what I loved, and give me a home.

The price was marrying him, becoming the Donna to the Luciani family.

For the past few years, being able to continue as a perfumer has been thanks to Dominic's support.

I took a deep breath. "Okay. I agree."

In the lab, it was just Sienna and me.

Away from Dominic's eyes, she let loose completely, running her hands over the absolutes and bases in the lab.

I watched it all expressionless, telling myself to endure.

"Don't be so cold," she said, walking behind me, her gaze sweeping over the workbench. "By the way, what's that amber-colored bottle?"

I followed her gaze. It was the perfume we finished together the first time my father taught me perfumery.

"Don't touch it," I warned.

Sienna smiled. "So tense? It must be precious."

She reached for the bottle.

"I said don't touch it!" I grabbed her wrist.

Sienna violently shook me off, stepping back.

The bottle slipped from the shelf, arcing through the air.

Bang.

Glass shards scattered on the floor.

My father's last breath was evaporating and disappearing right now.

I knelt on the floor, trying to cup the liquid with my hands, but it flowed through my fingers, leaving nothing.

Seeing my face grow paler, Sienna's eyes darted. She suddenly grabbed a shard of glass and cut her own arm.

"Ah!" Her eyes instantly reddened, and she collapsed on the floor, looking pitiful.

The next second, Dominic rushed into the lab. The first thing he saw was the blood on Sienna's arm.

He kicked aside the broken glass bottles on the floor and turned to check Sienna's injury with concern.

"You hurt her?" His brow furrowed, his dark eyes shifting to me.

"I didn't mean to..." Sienna sobbed. "I just wanted to look at that perfume, but Elena suddenly went crazy, pushed me down, and cut me..."

"I didn't!" I stood up, my voice trembling with anger. "She herself—"

"Enough," Dominic cut me off, his gaze cold as he looked at me. "Elena, apologize."

Three years of marriage, this was the first time he looked at me like that.

In that moment, I thought I had misheard.

"What?"

"Apologize to Sienna," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

I looked at him, the man who once said he would always believe me, the untouchable Don of New York's underworld.

"I didn't do anything, why should I apologize?"

"And Sienna, she knocked over my father's legacy. Shouldn't she be the one apologizing?"

"Besides..." My throat tightened, I looked him straight in the eye. "About how my father was betrayed back then, don't you have anything to say?"

Dominic's expression shifted for a moment.

He averted his gaze unnaturally. "It's all in the past. I dealt with the traitor for you. What more do you want?"

"Since you refuse to apologize, you'll stay in the lab tonight to reflect. Come out when you've figured it out."

"Dominic!"

By the time I reacted, the door was slammed shut.

Then, the lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the entire space instantly.

He forgot I have claustrophobia.

My breathing started to quicken.

There was no switch in the room. I beat desperately against the door.

No matter how much I called for help, there was no response.

I don't know how long it was before I lost consciousness.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in the family's private hospital.

The sharp smell of disinfectant hit me, and I instinctively grimaced.

A nurse at my side said with surprise, "Donna. You're awake."

"Congratulations, you're eight weeks pregnant."

I was pregnant, with Dominic's child.

I mechanically reached for my stomach. It was still flat, yet it held a fragile life.

For the past three years, I had longed for this moment, but now, all I felt was bitterness.

How could a child born to an unloved mother be a symbol of love?

The next second, my phone vibrated, breaking my thoughts.

A text message from Dominic popped up on the screen.

"Anniversary ball canceled. We'll reconsider rescheduling when you've come to your senses and apologized to Sienna."

I let out a sharp laugh and pressed delete, wiping the message completely.

Then I called my private lawyer. "Please prepare the divorce papers for me, as quickly as possible."

As I prepared to leave the hospital, I ran straight into Sienna.

She was dressed in couture, carrying a limited edition Hermès bag, and looked me up and down before covering her mouth in mock surprise:

"Elena, you look terrible. I almost didn't recognize you." Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "But I guess it's understandable. You were in that small, dark space for so long. How was your claustrophobia attack?"

I didn't say anything and walked around her.

But she called out from behind me with a smile,

"Do you know why you haven't been able to get pregnant for the past three years? I'll tell you the truth. Before you two got married, because I didn't want any other woman to have his child, Dominic had a vasectomy for me.He only got the reversal six months ago because he saw how desperate you were for a child and decided to indulge you."

No wonder Dominic never used protection when we were together those first two years.

I thought he wanted a child with me, just like I did.

So even this little life was just something he was bestowing upon me.

Sienna then pulled out a document, and my pupils contracted.

It was my marriage certificate with Dominic.

She said with a smile:

"A few days ago, I said I needed paper to make a paper airplane, and Dominic just casually gave it to me. Paper like this makes the best ripping sound. Want to hear it?"

The next second, right in front of me, she tore our marriage certificate to pieces.

"Perfect. Dominic and I will get a new one. This old one will be useless sooner or later."

"Are you done?" My voice was calm.

Sienna paused.

"Then now, get out of my sight."

I turned away, expressionless.

But as I left, Sienna suddenly shoved me hard from behind.

I was completely caught off guard, lost my balance, and fell down the stairs.

Then came the intense pain, spreading from my abdomen to my entire body.

"Help! Someone, help!" The nurse's scream came from a distance.

Warm liquid flowed down my legs.

I looked down and saw my white dress soaking through with bright red.

Finally, a startling pool of blood spread on the marble floor.

My child.

I reached out to touch my stomach, but in the end, I could only weakly lower my arm.

"Quick! Prepare an operating room!" The doctor's voice boomed in my ears.

Someone pushed me onto a gurney, the corridor lights flashing past my eyes.

I wanted to speak, but couldn't make a sound.

The anesthetic was pushed into my vein.

My consciousness began to blur.

The last thought I had was: maybe this is for the best.

At least, I won't have to hesitate anymore.

As expected, the child couldn't be saved.

When the doctor told me the news, I just calmly said, "Okay."

Then I picked up a pen and signed my name on the divorce papers.

That night, I got on a plane and left New York.

The chat window on my phone was still open to the message where the man told me to apologize.

He felt so confident, likely because he believed I had nowhere else to go but by his side.

But just a while ago, I received a notification from the bank. I learned that my parents had secretly left me one-third of their family fortune in Sicily when I was eighteen, as my dowry.

And that money was enough for me to rise again.

The moment the plane took off, I deleted all my accounts.

I took one last look at the city that I had loved and hated.

Dominic. Goodbye forever.