Night had already fallen when Anthony returned to Saint Laurent Manor.

When he pushed the door open, he saw Mabel sitting on the sofa. The lights were off. Moonlight spilled in through the windows, stretching her silhouette into something lonely and cold.

Seeing her like this, his heart softened despite himself. The agitation from earlier ebbed away.

He crouched in front of her, lowering his voice. "Does your arm still hurt? I'm sorry. I didn't control my strength. Let me apply the medicine for you."

Mabel said nothing, only turning away from his touch.

Anthony sighed and took out the gift he had prepared.

"The emerald jewelry set you liked at the last auction.

"I know you're still upset about Cheryl, but we're family. Don’t let an outsider come between us."

She finally reacted, but instead of looking at the jewelry, she reached beneath the cushion and pulled out a stack of documents.

"I don't need an apology. Just sign these."

On top was a Withdrawal Agreement from the Oliver family. Beneath it lay the divorce papers.

"Mabel, are you out of your mind?"

Anthony sprang to his feet and slammed the papers onto the coffee table. Pages scattered everywhere, sliding across the floor.

"You want a divorce? Over something this trivial? You want to leave the Family? Do you even understand what you're saying?!"

Unlike his fury, Mabel simply watched him rage in silence. Then, slowly, she curved her lips into a faint smile.

"Anthony, in your eyes, my dignity, my sacrifices, and even my life are all trivial.

"Only Cheryl's emotions matter.

"Honestly, I'm tired. If you believe she's so fragile she needs your constant protection, then I'll make space for her. As for the Donna position, whoever wants it can take it."

"You're just throwing a tantrum!" Anthony laughed in anger, pacing back and forth as he struggled to contain himself.

"When did you turn into such a dull housewife, obsessed with catching mistresses all day long?

"Cheryl is Zachary's fiancée! Zachary died saving me! Taking care of her is only right! You insist on using morality to tie my hands, forcing me to choose between duty and you… Don't you think that's cruel?"

"Cruel?" Her voice was steady, unflinching. "Or is it shameless?"

She was not afraid of confrontation, nor did she want to retreat into silence.

"You call that taking care of her? What haven't you done personally? If one day she wants a child, will you take responsibility for getting her pregnant, too?

"Do you dare to swear in front of Zachary's grave that you don't harbor a single selfish thought toward Cheryl?"

"Enough!"

Anthony cut her off violently, veins bulging at his temples.

"You're blinded by jealousy! The more you talk, the more absurd you sound! Since you can't speak rationally, take a few days to cool off before we talk again!"

He stepped on the scattered papers and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

…

Late at night.

The pain in her right arm kept Mabel awake.

She went to look for painkillers. As she passed the study, voices drifted through the crack in the door.

"Don, please don’t be angry. The Donna is only reacting so strongly because she cares about you too much. That’s why she’s hostile toward Ms. Reyes."

It was Henry, speaking cautiously—her Consigliere, always careful with his words.

"Cares about me?" Anthony's voice was heavy with exhaustion and irritation. Even through the door, Mabel could picture him rubbing his brow impatiently.

"That's caring for me? That's endless control.

"She's spoiled by my indulgence.

"She thinks that just because she's fought beside me for ten years, shed blood, and taken injuries, she's earned eternal credit. That I should yield to her in everything.

"But has she ever thought that if it weren't for me, she might already have been kidnapped, humiliated, and trampled by countless people?"

Henry hesitated. "But…she has been with you through life and death for ten years…"

"Whose sacrifice hasn't been ten years?" Anthony shot back without hesitation. "Have I ever treated her poorly?"

Unable to stop herself, Mabel leaned closer to the door, wanting to hear more, wanting to hear his true thoughts.

"The killing intent around Mabel is too heavy. Being with her, I'm always on edge. She's an excellent partner when things were bloody, but in life, she lacks the softness a woman should have. She's always too hard, too sharp.

"But Cheryl is different. She's pure and simple, like a blank sheet of paper. I have to take Zachary's place and protect her."

…

Mabel did not listen any further.

She stood in the shadows, her body going cold, each of his words stabbing straight through her organs, leaving her unable to breathe.

So the ten years she had spent fighting and the scars she had borne from shielding him with her body had become proof that she was not a normal woman.

He found her tainted.

Too hard. Not gentle enough. A butcher stained with blood.

When the situation was unstable, he praised her as his right hand, the one who stood beside him to restore the Family’s glory.

Now that he sat at the top, he claimed only with Cheryl could he forget the violence and enjoy the peace of an ordinary life.

Mabel lowered her gaze, staring at the wound in her palm that had not yet healed, and let out a self-mocking laugh.

She did not push the door open to confront him. She did not cry or make a scene.

She simply wiped away her tears and turned back toward the bedroom.

He was so certain she would not leave? That everything she did was for a tantrum?

Anthony was gravely mistaken.

In her world, there was no such thing as holding on.

Anything that did not belong to her, she would discard without hesitation.

A few days later, it was Anthony’s 30th birthday banquet.

It was the grandest event of the year in Vicente. Capos, underbosses, consiglieri, made men, and associates from all sides arrived to pay their respects.

In previous years, the woman standing beside Anthony, receiving the congratulations of the crowd, had always been Mabel.

However, on that day, the one at his side was Cheryl, dressed in white, smiling softly.

She clung to Anthony's arm, her expression shy yet blissful, basking in the spotlight that had once belonged to Mabel.

The guests exchanged glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them as whispers spread.

"So the rumors are true. The Oliver family’s Donna has fallen out of favor."

"Tsk. Men are all the same. Once they’ve made it, who wouldn’t prefer someone young and spotless? Mabel’s hands are stained with too much blood. How could she compare to Ms. Reyes, who looks so gentle?"

…

Anthony seemed to enjoy Cheryl's dependence. From time to time, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, shielding her from excessive toasts.

Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, the grand doors of the hall were shoved open with force.

All eyes snapped toward the entrance.

Mabel walked in from the backlight.

She was not wearing an elaborate gown but a sleek black velvet dress. The high slit revealed long, straight legs. Her lips were a vivid crimson, her hair loose and flowing.

She wore no jewelry save for the obsidian ring on her ring finger.

Yet the authority unique to the Donna radiated unmistakably from her.

Her beauty was sharp, unrestrained, and aggressively dazzling—so striking that it was impossible to look away.

The contrast was immediate.

Cheryl's face went pale as she instinctively shrank into Anthony's arms.

He had not expected Mabel to appear. A flicker of surprise, followed by undisguised admiration, crossed his eyes.

Mabel walked straight up to them, casually picked up a glass of red wine, and looked at Cheryl with a faint, mocking smile.

"Ms. Reyes, you look beautiful tonight. Anyone who didn't know better might think you're the one marrying into the Oliver family."

The girl's eyes reddened. Her voice trembled.

"M…Mabel, you've misunderstood. Anthony was only worried I wouldn't adapt to an occasion like this…"

"Is that so?" Mabel let out a soft laugh, her tone laced with ridicule. "Zachary is still watching from above. And yet, you can't wait to hold his elder brother's arm, playing social games among power and prestige. That so-called devotion of yours… How cheap it looks."

"Enough!"

Anthony snapped sharply, stepping in front of Cheryl. His gaze darkened as it locked onto Mabel.

"Mabel, it's my birthday. Do you really have to make a scene in front of everyone?"

Mabel drained her wine in one go, then slammed the empty glass onto the table.

"Anthony, you’re the one doing something disgraceful. Since you're so eager to protect her, I'll give you exactly what you want tonight."

With that, she removed the obsidian ring from her finger and tossed it away.

The entire hall erupted in shock.

That ring symbolized the Donna’s status. How could she throw it away so casually?

Mabel turned and walked off without looking back.

"If you want it," she said coolly, "crawl over and pick it up yourself."

…

On the third-floor terrace, the night breeze was cool.

Mabel lit a cigarette.

She watched the smoke coil upward, blurring the lights and music of the garden below, and felt an oppressive heaviness in her chest.

Bastion Manor had already shut her out.

She was now an outsider.

Soft footsteps sounded behind her.

Without turning, Mabel said coldly, "Get lost."

"Mabel, why go this far?"

Cheryl's voice was light.

The timid fragility from earlier was gone. The tears on her face had dried long ago, replaced by a provocative smile.

"Anthony only has me in his heart. The more you make trouble, the further you push him away. He said you're too strong, and being around you exhausts him. What he needs is a place to rest, not a reminder of how bloody the past was. You're a comrade-in-arms to him, nothing more."

Mabel's fingers paused briefly around her cigarette. Then she let out a cold laugh.

"So you're finally done pretending?"

Cheryl stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"So what if I was pretending? As long as Anthony believes it, that's enough.

"Mabel, you're old. Your time is over. Zachary is dead. Those still alive have to move forward."

She smiled maliciously.

"Tell me, if Zachary knew his brother and his fiancée ended up together, would he crawl out of hell in rage?"

Smack.

Mabel slapped her hard across the face.

"You're not worthy of saying his name."

Cheryl's head snapped to the side. She covered her cheek, but instead of anger, a strange smile spread across her face.

"Why so angry? Come on, hit me again. The harder you hit, the more Anthony will feel sorry for me."

Suddenly, the girl grabbed Mabel's wrist, her eyes wild.

Mabel's gaze turned icy. Instinctively, her hand went to her waist.

It was a habit; she never went anywhere without a gun.

Now, the muzzle pressed squarely against Cheryl's forehead.

"Slapping is boring," Mabel said coldly. "I'll send you to your death instead. Seeing a corpse? Now, that will make him truly heartbroken."

Her voice dropped to absolute zero.

She meant it. She was genuinely prepared to kill.

Yet, Cheryl did not retreat in the slightest. Her smile only grew brighter, more twisted.

"Do it," she whispered. "Pull the trigger, Mabel. Let Anthony see how you kill the woman Zachary loved most."

As she spoke, she suddenly reached out and grabbed the finger Mabel had hooked on the trigger.

Mabel's pupils shrank. She did not have time to pull away.

Cheryl forced the gun downward, aiming it at her own shoulder, and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The gunshot exploded across the terrace.

Cheryl screamed, then used the recoil to fling herself backward over the railing, plummeting toward the ground below.

"Argh! Help! Mabel! Don't kill me!"

The shrill scream tore through the night, drawing gasps from the guests below as they looked up.

Mabel stood at the railing, gun still in her hand, staring down at the instantly chaotic crowd.

She knew it.

This round: she had lost again.

All because she was not ruthless enough.

Cheryl did not die from the fall.

Of course, she would not. She valued her life far too much.

She had only dared to do it because she knew there was a swimming pool below.

By the time Anthony arrived, the scene was already in chaos.

Cheryl had been pulled from the water. The bloody wound in her shoulder was horrifying to look at. She was barely conscious, her lips trembling as she kept murmuring incoherently, "Don't kill me… Don't kill me…"

He lifted his head and looked upward.

His gaze collided with that of the expressionless woman standing above.

"Mabel!"

In Anthony's eyes, there was only a cruel, jealous woman who had fired a gun and tried to kill someone.

He handed Cheryl over to the doctors, then strode straight up to the terrace.

Using nearly all his strength, he grabbed Mabel by the shoulders. He looked as though he wanted to crush her.

"Have you lost your mind?! What did Cheryl ever do to you? How could you bring yourself to do this? You hate her that much? The moment I wasn't watching, you tried to kill her?!"

Mabel was shaken so hard her vision swam. The old injury in her shoulder flared up violently, pain forcing cold sweat down her back.

However, begging was never an option.

She only looked at Anthony coldly, standing on the edge of fury.

"I didn't fire the gun. She pulled the trigger herself and jumped. Do you believe that?"

It sounded like the biggest joke he had ever heard.

The disappointment and revulsion in his eyes swallowed her whole.

"What do you take me for? Cheryl can't even stand the sight of blood. She would never touch a gun! She's already hurt like this, and you're still lying, still framing her?!

"Just admit it! You're jealous and vicious. You couldn't tolerate her existence!"

Mabel had always believed that after all these years of standing shoulder to shoulder, he understood her better than anyone.

She never imagined that, in his eyes, she had become a heartless, scheming villain.

He did not even bother to uncover the truth.

He attacked her first, pressing forward step by step, as if he wished he could kill her himself to vent his rage.

At that moment, something inside her died completely.

She no longer wanted to explain. Exhaustion crept into her expression.

"Think whatever you want."

That indifference ignited Anthony completely.

He had still clung to a shred of reason, hoping she would explain herself and sincerely apologize to Cheryl. Even if it was just an act to placate him, it would have been enough.

However, she did not.

She continued to test his limits, relying on the contributions she had made to the family.

"Well done, Mabel," he said coldly. "Very well done."

He released her. There was no warmth left on his face.

"Since you're willing to use such despicable methods against Cheryl, then I have no choice but to deal with you according to the family's rules."

He turned toward the Soldati who had rushed over and gave the order without emotion.

"Take the Donna to the ice chamber."

The moment those words were spoken, the faces of everyone present changed.

That was the place where the Oliver family punished traitors.

Buried deep underground, it was an ice vault kept at dozens of degrees below freezing year-round. Solid ice sealed all four walls. No light. No sound. Only bone-piercing cold and endless darkness.

"Don! She'll die in there! She's still injured!" Her Consigliere, Henry, tried desperately to plead for her.

"Take her away."

Anthony's tone left no room for negotiation.

"When she admits her mistake and is willing to kneel and apologize to Cheryl, then she can come out."

There were no instruments of torture in the ice chamber.

Isolation and cold were punishment enough.

…

Mabel curled into a corner, her consciousness blurring as her body temperature dropped.

In her daze, she seemed to return to eight years ago.

That winter, while protecting Anthony, she had been hunted by enemies and trapped in an abandoned mine deep in the snow-covered mountains.

He had held her tightly, unfastened his coat, wrapped her in his arms, and used his own body heat to warm her stiff, freezing limbs.

"Mabel, don't fall asleep. Hold on.

"When we get out, I'll give you a home. You'll never be cold again."

…

She feared enclosed spaces without light, nightmares left behind from the years when she had been nothing more than property.

Anthony had once been the flame that guided her out of that darkness.

However, at that point, the one exploiting her weakness and pushing her into the abyss…was also him.

Home had become her prison.

Promises had turned into blades pointed at her heart.

Time lost all its meaning.

She did not know how long had passed when a small window in the iron door slid open, a beam of flashlight cutting through the darkness.

"Donna, the Don wants to know if you understand your mistake."

Mabel's lips were blue with cold. Her voice was so faint it was barely audible, yet unwavering.

"I…did…nothing…wrong.

"Cheryl…deserves…to die."

The window slammed shut.

The cold surged back in.

This time, hallucinations began to take hold.

She saw Zachary standing before her, his face smeared with blood, crying.

She saw Anthony holding a diamond ring, turning away from her to place it on Cheryl's finger.

She saw herself lying in a pool of blood, abandoned and unseen.

Her body temperature slipped away, bit by bit. Her heartbeat slowed.

Mabel knew she was reaching her limit.

When the Soldato came again to question her, panic finally broke through.

"Get help! Quickly! The Donna…she's not moving anymore!"