Vincenzo froze.

I stood just outside the bulletproof glass of the ICU, every word a dagger in my heart.

He could support Chloe for the rest of her life, give her a status in the underworld no one would dare challenge, but how could he give her the De Luca name?

He had sworn before a priest that I was his one and only Donna, his one and only wife.

Seeing Vincenzo's hesitation, Marco's body on the bed suddenly began to convulse violently.

The heart monitor shrieked, its alarm like a countdown to death.

Blood gushed from Marco's mouth, staining Vincenzo's expensive white shirt.

Chloe, sobbing and trembling, tried to wipe the blood away while pleading with her brother.

"Brother, Vincenzo is already married. Don't make things difficult for him."

"No… It was my fault. It was because of me that you had to leave New York. I'm the one who let you lose your protection…"

Marco's hand gripped Vincenzo's arm tightly. "Vincenzo, cough… You know what this world does to women without the protection of a Family. Please, give her your name. Only the title of Mrs. De Luca can keep her safe…"

Seeing the brother who had taken a bullet for him gasping for air, his emotions spiraling, Vincenzo didn't hesitate any longer. He immediately clasped Chloe's hand.

"Marco, I promise you."

"I will marry Chloe. I will give her the highest honor and protection of the De Luca family."

"You… swear on the family crest…" Marco's eyes widened in a final burst of energy.

Vincenzo had no choice. He closed his eyes, then slowly raised his right hand.

"I swear on the name of the De Luca family, I will marry Chloe. If I break this vow, may I be cast into hell, never to find peace."

Hearing those words, Marco's tense body finally went limp, a look of relief spreading across his gaunt face.

"I don't have long. You must hold the ceremony before I die."

As if the effort of speaking was too much, Marco lapsed back into unconsciousness.

After hearing everything, I didn't storm in. Instead, I turned and walked to a bench outside, my body going cold.

A few minutes later, Vincenzo came out.

He ripped off his tie and lit a cigar, his movements sharp with agitation.

After a moment, Chloe appeared with two cups of espresso and pressed herself against his side.

"Vincenzo, I know my brother's request is too much… but he's dying, and I don't want him to go with regrets. Don't worry, it'll just be a formality. I'll go and explain everything to Elara."

"Don't." Vincenzo blew out a puff of smoke, his eyes dark. "I am the Don. This isn't just a marriage; it's a responsibility. Elara understands the bigger picture. She won't make a fuss over something like this."

"Will she really not mind? But she…"

Chloe trailed off, biting her lip, her eyes darting nervously.

"What about her? Did she send you more of those texts?"

Before Chloe could answer, Vincenzo took her phone and opened her texts.

On the screen was a message from a contact named "Elara."

[Elara: You bitch, Chloe, why isn't your brother's worthless life over yet? How much longer is he going to drag Vincenzo down?]

Seeing the message "I" had supposedly sent, Vincenzo nearly dropped the phone.

He probably never imagined that his elegant, proper, Ivy-league-educated wife could be so vicious in private.

After all, he had never seen this side of me since the day we met.

"Vincenzo, don't be angry. Donna was just upset because she loves you so much. It's my fault. I'm the one who shouldn't be here."

Chloe's crying was heartbreaking. She fell into Vincenzo's broad embrace.

Vincenzo crushed his cigar and wrapped a large arm around her.

"She's gone too far. Even as my wife, she has no right to insult my brother like that. I'll make her apologize to you."

Chloe nodded through her sobs, but in her eyes, unseen by Vincenzo, was the glint of triumph.

Just then, I stepped out from the shadows and stood before them.

Vincenzo started, his expression instantly becoming complicated.

He had always considered me the perfect Donna. Calm, elegant, a brilliant financial advisor, and most importantly, someone who would support him unconditionally no matter what.

Even if I had been throwing a bit of a fit lately, it was just jealousy. But those vicious curses were far too much.

The sun was bright, but its light couldn't hide the deathly pallor of my face.

Looking at Vincenzo's disappointed and accusatory gaze, I curled my lips into a smile, finding the whole situation absurdly funny.

"What did I say? Is it something worthy of the great Don putting on such a dramatic, heartfelt performance?"

"Are you still going to stand there and be sarcastic?"

"Chloe, show her the messages."

Chloe shook her head pitifully, then walked over and gripped my arm tightly.

"Donna, you can say whatever you want to me, I don't mind. But my brother is dying. He wants to see me and Vincenzo get married before he passes..."

"Wait." I shook off Chloe's hand, cutting her off. "What did I say to you? Be specific."

"I..." At my question, Chloe immediately recoiled like a frightened deer, hiding behind Vincenzo.

Seeing Chloe so aggrieved, Vincenzo took a large step forward, shielding her with his body.

"Elara, I am so disappointed in you. Chloe has been trying to spare your dignity, and what do you do? Curse her brother's life, call her a slut. All those years at an Ivy League school, and this is what you've learned? Cheap tricks?"

A sharp crack echoed through the air as I slapped Vincenzo across the face with all my strength.

Every word he had just spoken was a complete and utter humiliation of my pride.

Vincenzo clearly hadn't expected me to hit him. His eyes filled with shock.

"You hit me?"

The slap was so hard it snapped his head to the side, and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes. Does it hurt?" I shook my stinging palm and let out a soft laugh, though the mirth didn't reach my eyes.

"So, you can feel pain too, Vincenzo?"

I took a deep breath. "That's right. I called her a bitch. A homewrecker. I wished her brother would die sooner. So what? He's not my brother. It has nothing to do with me."

"She just said she wanted my blessing? No problem."

"As for the family lawyers, I'm free anytime."

With that, I didn't give Vincenzo another glance. I just turned and walked away.

Vincenzo clutched his cheek, watching my slender figure retreat into the distance. For some reason, a wave of panic washed over him.

He couldn't understand why I looked so unfazed.

Why, when he told me he was going to marry Chloe, had I not cried or begged, but simply agreed?

Was this still the Elara who couldn't fall asleep outside his arms, who came to him for comfort over the smallest grievance?

Chloe gently touched Vincenzo's cheek, her face a mask of concern.

"Vincenzo, does it hurt? Elara didn't mean it. She was just angry. I'll go to her later and explain everything. I'll get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I'm sure you two will make up."

Chloe's voice was soft and docile, like an anesthetic that slowly eased Vincenzo's taut nerves.

Vincenzo nodded, accepting her explanation.

No matter what, he was certain I could never truly leave him.

Not for three days, let alone for good.

"Are you sure you want to liquidate everything, Donna?"

My private lawyer, Ethan, stared at the thick file in his hands and pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his tone filled with disbelief.

"Once you sign this, your authorization over all shell corporations, trust funds, and overseas accounts linked to the De Luca family will be terminated. This means severing ties with eight years of your hard work."

I nodded calmly, saying nothing more.

Ethan didn't press the matter. He handed me the pen.

The nib scratched across the paper, the sound like a blade cutting through rotting flesh.

"Also, please draft the divorce papers for me. As soon as possible."

"And the Don…"

"I'll handle him. And until this is all settled, please ensure it remains confidential."

Everyone in the underworld knew about Vincenzo and me.

For eight years, his love for me was public and passionate. Everyone spoke of the deep love between the Don and Donna of the De Luca family.

For it to end like this, it was natural for Ethan to have reservations.

But while I may appear quiet and gentle, I have a stubborn streak. Once I decide on something, I don't look back.

I spent the entire day severing my ties to the Family. That evening, the divorce papers were delivered to my office.

After carefully reviewing all the clauses, I signed my name without a second thought.

It was late when I returned to the penthouse apartment.

I opened the door to a dark living room. The only light was the faint, scarlet glow of a cigar smoldering in the blackness.

Vincenzo was sitting in an armchair, a Cuban cigar pinched between his fingers.

The air was thick with the heavy scent of tobacco and whiskey.

Hearing the door, he stubbed out the cigar and stood up, his tall frame instantly casting a long shadow.

"You're back." His voice carried a weariness I had never heard before.

"I know you don't like the smell… I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

I was already giving up on this home. Why would I care if he smoked in the living room?

I changed my shoes and walked straight toward the bedroom.

"Elara, I need to talk to you."

Vincenzo crossed the room in a few large strides, blocking my way.

His embrace was once my most cherished sanctuary, but now it only made me feel suffocated.

"We need to talk."

He looked down at me, a rare anxiety in his eyes.

But I was exhausted from the long day and had no energy to argue. I simply stood my ground, my gaze calm as I met his.

"Okay. Go on."

Vincenzo had been expecting me to be angry after his behavior that morning, to give him the silent treatment. He assumed my late return was a sign of my continued displeasure.

He didn't expect me to be so calm.

Though a faint sense of unease still lingered, he knew he couldn't put this off any longer.

"Marco is fading fast." He avoided my gaze, his brow furrowed. "The doctors have given him his final notice."

"You know what Marco means to me. A man of the De Luca family cannot break his word."

"You know his only dying wish is to see Chloe settled. So I…"

Vincenzo believed he had done nothing wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to say the next words. He didn't know how to tell his wife he had to marry another woman.

"So, you have to give Chloe a title, the name of Mrs. De Luca, and protect her for the rest of her life with the family crest. Is that right?" I finished for him.

I still remembered every word I had heard at the hospital today.

It turned out, even he knew how hurtful those words were.

"You already knew?" Vincenzo looked surprised.

But since we were already on the topic, he had no choice but to reason with me.

"Elara, my parents were killed by our enemies when I was a child. One time, when a rival family ambushed me, it was Marco who saved my life."

"He's not just my brother; he's my savior. If it weren't for him, I'd be in a grave right now. This is a blood debt. I know you can…"

"You don't have to say another word. I agree."

Vincenzo had a whole speech prepared about responsibility and the bigger picture, but I cut him off.

For a long moment, he didn't respond.

"Vincenzo, I said, I agree. Go ahead and make the arrangements."

After saying that, I even curved my lips into a small smile.

That smile instantly cleared much of the gloom from Vincenzo's mind.

He joyfully pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.

"I knew it!" He rested his chin on the top of my head. "I knew you would understand. My Elara is the most sensible of all."

"Don't worry, the marriage to Chloe is a sham. It's just a ceremony to give Marco peace of mind."

"I won't invite many people, but if outsiders start talking or if anyone in the Family questions it, I hope you'll help me explain."

Imprisoned in his embrace, I felt no warmth at all.

I just stood there woodenly, a soulless doll in his arms.

I swallowed the crushing pain in my heart and managed a soft "Mm."

That ought to satisfy him, right?

Vincenzo released me and leaned in to kiss my forehead, but I turned my head just enough to avoid it.

"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep." I pushed him away and walked back into the bedroom.

For the next three days, Vincenzo didn't come back.

I wasn't idle, either.

As a chief financial advisor, I had handled countless complex asset liquidations. This time, it was my own.

I packed all my personal documents and belongings, shipping them secretly through my private channels to a secure vault in Zurich.

Leaning back on the sofa, I stared at the wedding photo of Vincenzo and me on the wall, my eyes filled with cold tears.

My phone buzzed, a text message pulling me back to the present.

I opened it. It was a picture from Chloe.

No words, just a high-definition selfie.

In the photo, Chloe was wearing an ivory Italian gown, made from Vincenzo's favorite fabric.

But what stung my eyes was the emerald necklace resting on her collarbone.

It was the De Luca family heirloom, passed down through generations, to be worn only by the reigning Donna.

When we got married, I had wanted to wear that necklace.

But Vincenzo had locked it away in a UBS vault, whispering in my ear, "Elara, on our tenth anniversary, I will put this on you myself. Don't worry, you are the only woman worthy of its weight."

Now, those heavy green gems rested on another woman's collarbone, their mocking gleam caught in the camera's flash.

I looked back at my wedding photo with Vincenzo and felt that the eight years I had dedicated to our relationship were nothing but a colossal joke.

My phone buzzed again. Another message from Chloe.

[Chloe: Elara, the ceremony is tomorrow. The Don said that considering Marco's dying wish and your feelings, it would be best for everyone's dignity if you didn't attend. We can get together privately after everything has settled.]

What a perfect victim. Using a dying man to pressure the living, cloaking her greed in the name of "dignity."

I laughed coldly and replied with a single word. "Congratulations."

After sending it, I blocked her number and made a call to a professional painting company.

Everything in this apartment was a product of my love and hard work. Since I was leaving, there was no reason for any of it to remain.

The next day, the ceremony at the De Luca estate was grand and solemn.

Of course, I didn't go.

I found out later that the guests were all friends and relatives of the Rossi family.

Vincenzo kept searching for me in the crowd, but from the beginning of the ceremony to the end, I was nowhere to be seen.

After the ceremony, Vincenzo wanted to return to our apartment. Chloe wanted to go with him, saying she wanted to thank me in person for my blessing.

Vincenzo had no reason to refuse. He believed he and Chloe were innocent and had nothing to hide.

But when Vincenzo opened the door, he froze as if struck by lightning.

The luxurious Italian decor of the penthouse was gone.

The walls, the ceiling, the expensive marble floors, even the window frames, were all coated in a thick layer of light-absorbing, industrial matte black paint.

Except for a few boxes in the center of the living room containing Vincenzo's personal belongings, our home was completely empty.

As Chloe let out a fake gasp, Vincenzo walked stiffly into the living room and, with a trembling hand, picked up the file folder from the top of the boxes.

He ripped it open. Two documents slid out.

One was the divorce agreement I had signed. The other was the surgical report for my ectopic pregnancy.