I woke up late the next afternoon, my body aching from a night spent battling a fever. My head throbbed, and my throat was too raw to speak.

I checked my phone and saw dozens of unread messages.

"Happy birthday, Scarlett! I got you a yacht—we'll take it for a spin soon!"

"My dearest daughter, your father insisted on flying back to celebrate with you. Honestly, that man..."

"Happy 25th birthday, Scarlett! Love you forever!"

The screen was a flood of birthday wishes from my parents, Marco, friends, and classmates. They all sent their love.

But from Nico, the man who slept beside me every night, there was not a single message.

I sighed. My head was swimming, but I vaguely remembered waking in the night, asking Nico for a glass of water.

He'd been on the balcony, on a call. After hanging up, he’d left in a hurry and never returned.

I dragged my exhausted body out of bed, the fever making me unsteady.

Just then, the door opened. Nico was back. He was juggling a mountain of gift bags, each one exquisitely wrapped and clearly expensive.

He noticed my gaze and rushed over. "Finally awake, sleepyhead?"

I turned my head, avoiding his outstretched hand. My eyes fell to the gifts. "You missed my birthday, Nico," I said softly.

He froze, his hand hovering in mid-air before slowly dropping to his side. He glanced at the calendar on the wall, then quickly set down the gifts and took my hand, his voice laced with guilt. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I was buried in family business yesterday. Let me make it up to you today, okay?"

"No need. You missed it. It's over." I rejected his offer without a flicker of hesitation.

Nico watched me stumble back into the bedroom, the guilt in his eyes deepening.

I sat in the bedroom, my head growing heavier and dizzier. Half an hour later, I emerged to find Nico gone.

Laura saw my questioning look and explained, "Mr. Gallo went out to buy you a birthday present, Miss Ricci. Please don't be angry with him. He truly had important business yesterday."

I hesitated, my gaze landing on the pile of gift bags on the table. "He bought these for me?"

Laura followed my gaze and quickly moved the bags into a cabinet, as if afraid I'd touch them. "Oh no, Miss Ricci. These are for Mr. Gallo's important guest. He gave strict orders that no one is to touch them."

Important guest?

When I saw the cosmetics and designer handbags, I understood. For Nico, besides his parents, the most important person in the world was Alessia. In fact, he had once fought Don Gallo to the point of disownment over her. She was more important than anyone.

So, he hadn't just forgotten my birthday. It hadn't even crossed his mind. He could have used these gifts to placate me, lied and said he got the date wrong. But he didn't. Anything intended for Alessia was sacred.

Alessia was back, and I had already lost. Utterly. I couldn't imagine how many more ways Nico would make me lose in the days to come.

...

When Nico returned with a fresh bouquet, I was lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone.

Sensing my sullen mood, he sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled my hair. "Baby, don't be mad. I bought you so many things. If you're still angry, go ahead and slap me."

As he spoke, he took my hand and pressed it to his cheek.

Seeing him so humbled, my heart ached with a fresh wave of pain. He was not a patient man. I’d seen other women throw tantrums at him; he never placated them, just dumped them and moved on.

But with me, he was endlessly patient, even begging for forgiveness like this.

I couldn't tell if it was because he loved me, or because I was just the substitute who resembled her most.

At that thought, I turned to look at him, raised my hand, and slapped him across the face.

Nico froze, clearly not expecting me to actually do it. But he didn't seem to mind, assuming it was just my anger boiling over. A red handprint blooming on his cheek, he quickly turned to retrieve a gift box.

Inside was a necklace, a new piece from my favorite designer released two weeks ago. I had wanted it desperately but couldn't get it.

I hadn't expected him to acquire it in just half an hour. It must have cost him a fortune.

Suddenly, I couldn't understand him at all. He was still so good to me, good enough to be the envy of anyone who saw us.

The only flaw in the picture was that I would always, always come second to Alessia.

Nico saw my stunned expression and smiled faintly. He pushed my hair aside, intending to put the necklace on me. But as his fingers brushed my neck, his expression turned serious. "Why are you so hot?"

He’d finally noticed. My fever. Without another word, he swept me into his arms and rushed for the door.

Before leaving, he turned on the maids, his voice a low growl. "Did none of you notice the Principessa has a fever? You're all fired."

Then, he sped me to the hospital, blowing through a dozen red lights on the way.

At the hospital, the admitting doctor asked about our relationship.

"He's my brother."

"I'm her boyfriend."

We spoke at the same time.

The doctor gave us a confused look, and Nico repeated firmly, "I'm her boyfriend."

I stared at him, bewildered. He never admitted to our relationship in public. Even to strangers, he'd call me his sister. Over time, I'd just gotten used to it.

I never expected him to openly claim me now, all out of guilt.

I watched the IV drip, each drop a slow, mocking reminder.

A passing nurse couldn't help but comment, "You got her here just in time. Any later, and the baby might have—"

I coughed violently, cutting her off. Nico turned to get me some water. In that brief moment, I shook my head at the nurse, pleading with my eyes. I had already decided to end things. He couldn't know about the baby.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice. He helped me sit up and held the cup to my lips.

Just then, Marco burst through the door, his face a mask of panic. "Scarlett, why didn't you tell me you were—"

He stopped short when he saw Nico. Nico, recovering first, calmly placed the water glass back on the table.

"Why are you here?" Marco demanded.

"Scarlett collapsed from exhaustion at the company. I saw her and brought her here," Nico lied seamlessly. But then his eyes darted to the hallway, and his expression shifted the moment he saw Alessia standing outside the room.

Carrying a fruit basket, she sauntered in, her head held high. "I was catching up with Marco at a café when he heard his sister was sick. He was so worried he nearly forgot to pay the bill, so I offered to come with him. Nico, you don't look very happy to see me," she purred, her smile like a blade.

Nico's face darkened. When his eyes met hers, I saw an emotion I couldn't decipher.

Then, I understood. It was anger—an anger born from her indifference, an anger I had never seen in him before.

As the tension thickened, I pushed myself out of bed and extended a hand to her. "Hello, I'm Scarlett Ricci."

She looked me up and down, a slow, appraising glance. Then, her eyes widened in faux realization. She smiled faintly and shook my hand. "Hello, I'm Alessia. A friend of Marco's."

Nico tensed at her words, his fists clenching at his sides. I forced a smile, a bitter taste filling my mouth.

Suddenly, Alessia gasped, covering her mouth with a theatrical flair. "What a coincidence, Scarlett. You have dimples too! You have such a beautiful smile. You look a little bit like me."

Nico's posture grew even more rigid. I kept my smile in place. "Really? Then it must be fate that brought us together."

Marco, hearing this, laughed. "Alessia," he chuckled, "after all these years, you're still as subtle as a sledgehammer when you want to get close to someone."

She gave his arm a playful shove, their easy intimacy on full display.

Nico stood by like a sullen outsider. His eyes narrowed—a sure sign he was furious.

He turned to Marco. "Since you're here, I'll leave Scarlett in your care. I'm leaving."

But Marco stopped him, holding out a set of car keys. "Perfect. Why don't you drive Alessia home?"

Nico stared at the keys, motionless. Finally, Alessia pushed Marco's hand away. "Don't trouble him. I can get home myself."

With that, she said a brief goodbye to Marco and offered me a considerate "get well soon." Then, she turned and hurried away.

Nico's gaze followed her every step.

Marco looked at him, exasperated, and sighed loudly. "Christ, I hand you an opportunity on a silver platter and you just stand there. Aren't you going after her? Do you really want to lose her all over again?"

At that, Nico instinctively glanced at me, his expression hardening. He snapped, "Did you drink too much coffee? What nonsense are you spouting?"

Marco froze, baffled by Nico's sudden rage. He rolled his eyes, pushed past him, and dangled the car keys. "Fine. If you won't drive her, I can't just let Alessia go home alone."

Soon, only Nico and I remained in the silent room.

My calm demeanor seemed to unnerve him. He opened his mouth, as if to explain, but a nurse entered to announce I needed more tests.

Nico just nodded, gently helping me up and telling the nurse to be careful. He was as considerate as ever, but his mind was clearly a million miles away.

As I followed the nurse down the hall, I spotted two familiar figures in the adjacent corridor. Marco was leaning against a railing. "From the way you acted just now, it seems you're really not interested in getting back with Nico."

Alessia lit a cigarette, exhaled a lazy plume of smoke, and sneered. "Get back with him? Over my dead body."

As the words left her mouth, I saw Nico standing stiffly at the far end of the hall. He was staring at Alessia, as if they were the only two people in the world.

Marco stubbed out his cigarette and patted Alessia's shoulder. "Well, this ought to be a show. You two talk it out. I'll be in the parking lot."

But after Marco left, Alessia and Nico weren't just talking. They were arguing. Though I couldn't hear their words, Nico's agitated gestures told me it was intense.

I stood across the way, a tangle of emotions coiling in my gut. It was the first time I'd ever seen him lose his composure.

He was always cool during high-stakes family negotiations, always calm during life-threatening car races. But now, a single sentence from Alessia had made him completely unravel.

I couldn't watch anymore. I turned and followed the nurse.

When I came out from my tests, I heard Marco's voice again. "Alessia, if I'm not mistaken, you came back for him. You obviously still have feelings, so why say something like that? Aren't you afraid he'll get angry and actually give up?"

She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Him? Give up on me? From day one, I've always held the power to walk away. You don't know Nico, Marco. He's the type who needs a firm hand, not a soft touch."

"If we don't fight, how will he remember the pain of our breakup? Pain sharpens the memory. It makes the love feel real. I need him to feel that ache again, to remember what it was like to be utterly obsessed with me."

"Obsessed with you?" Marco scoffed, pulling out his phone and scrolling through photos. "Look at this. Nico never forgot. Sure, he dated a lot of women, but every single one of them was a carbon copy of you."

"It was all just for show, too. The moment he heard you were coming back, he dumped them all. I never realized how devoted he was..."

Alessia glanced at the photos, then looked up, her tone laced with a deeper meaning. "Dumped them all? I wouldn't be so sure."

Marco frowned. "Impossible. He's head over heels for you."

She just smiled, a secret curve of her lips. "He loves me, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough. If he was so devoted back then, why did I leave?"

"Everyone thought I left for my career. The truth is, his parents forced me out after my family went bankrupt."

"They wouldn't let him be with me, let alone marry me. That's why I have to play these games, to make sure his heart is mine and mine alone. Only then will he find the courage to defy them."

Seeing Marco's shocked expression, she patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. We may have fought, but all it takes is a little coaxing, and he'll come running back."

With that, she and Marco headed downstairs. As she left, she glanced up, right at me. I didn't miss the glint of provocation in her eyes.