Lorenzo's obsession with Elena was so blatant, yet somehow, I had been completely blind to it.

He carefully gathered the fragments from the floor as if they were sacred relics, then disappeared into his study.

Meanwhile, I trembled as I retrieved the first-aid kit and tended to my hand alone.

The bleeding from my palm eventually stopped, but the wound in my heart gaped open, raw and deep.

Lorenzo remained in his study all night.

I sat in the living room for hours, my thoughts spiraling.

I tried to summon memories of our happy moments, searching for a reason to stay. But the more I thought, the colder I felt.

I began to question every ounce of affection he had ever shown me.

Were his love and tenderness ever for me? Or was I just a stand-in? A vessel for his memories of her?

Once that thought took hold, I knew we were finished. I could not, would not, be anyone's substitute.

Just as I was steeling myself to confront Lorenzo, the doorbell rang. He emerged from the study to answer it.

A group of men in black suits filed in, their faces grim. Soldati.

Was Lorenzo in trouble?

"What's wrong, Lorenzo? What happened?" I asked, a wave of anxiety washing over me.

The moment the words left my mouth, I hated myself for them.

I had just decided to leave him, yet my first instinct was to worry. I cursed my own damnable weakness.

The next moment, the leader of the group strode toward me.

Before I could react, he seized my arm.

I heard the leader say deferentially, "Rest assured, Don Gallo. We at the Gilded Cage are professionals. We'll ensure your wife receives the discipline she deserves."

Hearing those words, I froze.

I'd heard of the Gilded Cage. From Lorenzo's own lips.

Though it sounded like a luxury resort, it was a place where mafia families sent their disobedient women for "re-education."

The so-called "discipline" was just a pretty word for torture.

Those who went in, if they emerged at all, came out broken.

The staff used every cruel method imaginable to tame their "students," forcing them to accept their place.

At the time, I had laughed and asked Lorenzo, "You wouldn't actually send me there if I misbehaved, would you?"

He had met my gaze, his expression serious. "First, you're my wife, not some possession. Second, if you were to disobey me, I'd trust you had your reasons. I would never let you suffer like that."

Who could have imagined that for accidentally breaking a statue, he would sentence me to that very hell?

I protested, "Are you kidding me, Lorenzo? I'm not going anywhere. Let me go."

"Let you go?" Lorenzo sneered. "You call this 'fine' after destroying Elena's statue? You're just a jealous bitch trying to replace her. But you'll never succeed!"

In that moment, I knew with chilling certainty he wasn't joking.

I began to struggle.

But the difference in strength was hopeless. I was no match for the man holding me. The more I fought, the tighter his grip became.

In the end, I only hurt myself.

The man, hearing our exchange, turned to Lorenzo with a sycophantic smile. "We'll teach her the rules, Don Gallo. You won't be disappointed."

Lorenzo nodded, his face a mask of cold satisfaction.

Panic clawed at my throat. I tried desperately to explain, "Lorenzo, believe me! It was an accident! I didn't mean it. I wasn't trying to replace Elena. I don't want to go to the Gilded Cage. You—"

He watched my terrified face, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"Don't blame me, Scarlett. This is a debt you owe Elena. You destroyed her statue, so you must make amends. Otherwise, how could I answer to her? Don't worry. Just be a good girl. When you come back, things will go back to how they were. I'll love you just the same."

Before I could respond, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my skull, and my world went black.

When I awoke, I was bound to an ornate armchair. The room was dim and oppressive, the air thick with the nauseatingly sweet smell of disinfectant.

Just then, a graceful woman entered.

My breath hitched when I saw her face. It was Bianca Gallo, Lorenzo's adopted sister. I was struck by her uncanny resemblance to Elena.

"Scarlett, do you realize what you did wrong?" she asked, her tone laced with mockery.

I blinked, my mind a fog. I shook my head. "No! I did nothing wrong. I accidentally broke the statue. That's all. I don't know..."

Desperate, I tried to plead. "Bianca, please. Can you get me out of here? I don't want to be here. I—"

Bianca cut me off with a sharp laugh, her eyes dripping with contempt. "Oh, Scarlett, you're adorably naive. It took me a great deal of effort to get Lorenzo to send you here. Did you really think I'd let you go so easily?"

Her words left me reeling.

Bianca had always been kind to me. I couldn't process what she was saying.

"Scarlett," she continued, her voice turning venomous, "a woman with your background doesn't deserve Lorenzo. Your biggest mistake wasn't breaking that statue. It was daring to fall in love with him."

"I've been by his side for years. He was supposed to be mine. If it weren't for you, we would've been together long ago. But it's not too late. Lorenzo finally sees who's truly worthy of him. Me!"

I’d always found Bianca’s devotion to Lorenzo a little too intense, but I’d dismissed it as sisterly affection. I never imagined it was… romantic.

"Oh, and by the way, Lorenzo asked me to 'take care' of you. He wants you to properly atone to Elena."

With that, Bianca pressed a button on a remote in her hand, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Let's see how long you can last."

The next moment, a powerful electric current shot through the chair, sending my body into convulsions. My limbs went numb as a sharp, searing pain shot through every nerve.

Bianca, seemingly unsatisfied, cranked up the intensity.

My body thrashed uncontrollably against the restraints. The excruciating pain pushed me to the very edge of consciousness.

The shocks grew stronger, wave after agonizing wave, until my spine felt like it was on fire.

My consciousness began to fray, and I felt myself slipping into darkness.

Just then, Bianca stopped.

But as my senses slowly swam back, she pressed the button again.

A new round of agony ripped a blood-curdling scream from my throat.

She toyed with me, dangling me between the oblivion of unconsciousness and the agony of being awake.

After an eternity of torment, she repeated her earlier question. "Scarlett, do you realize what you did wrong?"

I knew she wasn't just asking about the statue. She wanted me to admit that falling in love with Lorenzo was my sin.

But in my mind, neither was a crime.

I slowly squeezed out the words: "I... did... nothing... wrong."