Chapter 4

Perhaps it was my indifferent posture that finally pushed Sophia over the edge. She beckoned a maid to bring out the wedding dress.

Before I could even process what was happening, Sophia seized a letter opener from the table with a vengeful ferocity. She lunged at the gown, slashing the delicate fabric with violent strokes.

"Ella, you had to come back and be an eyesore," she hissed. "Now, you have to pay the price!"

I watched in frozen horror as the last physical memory of my mother fell to the floor like a heap of discarded rags. In an instant, the blood drained from my face, and my fingertips turned ice-cold.

She wasn't finished. She leaned in, her voice dripping with venom. "If your mother hadn't died all those years ago, how could an orphan like me have ever walked through the Corleone gates? How could I have taken everything that belonged to you?"

She let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "So, really, your mother died at the perfect time. And you? You should have followed her straight to hell back then!"

My eyes turned bloodshot. Under the weight of such absolute fury, a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my stomach. My head began to spin, and a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm me. I raised my hand and, with every ounce of strength I had left, delivered a stinging slap across her face.

The blow snapped Sophia's head to the side. Instead of crying out, she began to laugh—a high, twisted sound.

"Let's see who is more important in their hearts," she whispered. "The crazy daughter, or the 'good' one?"

Without warning, she gripped the letter opener and plunged it deep into her own abdomen. Blood bloomed across her dress immediately. She tossed the crimson-stained blade at my feet just as Luca burst into the room, drawn by the commotion.

He lunged forward, shoving me aside with such force that I stumbled.

"Ella!" he roared. The scent of copper from the blood hit my senses at the same time his voice did. "Have you lost your mind?"

Lost my mind? Yes, from the moment they dragged me to that asylum three years ago, I had lost my mind.

Sophia looked up at him, her eyes brimming with calculated tears. Her breath came in weak, shallow gasps. "Brother, it's my fault... Ella finally came home. I shouldn't have made her angry..." Then, she allowed her eyes to flutter shut, feigning a faint.

Luca stared at the swelling on Sophia's cheek and the wound in her stomach, his face contorting with rage. He turned to me and bellowed, "How stupid I was to think you had changed! You're still this malicious!"

"Ella! I truly regret letting you come back."

Those words hit me with the force of a physical blow. My hand, which had been reaching out to gather the shredded remnants of the dress my mother had made for me, froze in mid-air. I used the cold, stone wall for support, stumbling as I tried to pull myself up from the floor.

At that moment, my father and Alex arrived. With a single glance, they reached their verdict.

My father ignored me with his usual practiced coldness. Standing just a few feet away, he pulled out his phone and dialed the family doctor, his face like a mask of granite. Alex rushed to Sophia's side, scooping her into his arms. When he looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but profound disappointment and silent accusation.

This scene finally extinguished the last flickering ember of hope in my heart. My body was racked with pain, and the iron-tasting heat rising in my throat could no longer be suppressed.

I clutched my mouth and coughed. Thick, dark blood leaked through my fingers, splashing onto the polished floor. What started as a few stray droplets quickly widened into a startling, vivid pool of red.

Luca's eyes widened in shock. Alex barked my name. Even my father's hand, still holding the phone to his ear, froze in place.

Luca moved toward me, reaching out to steady me, but I recoiled as if his touch were an electric shock.

"Why don't any of you ask me if I actually hurt her?" I choked out. "Every single time something happens, you believe Sophia's word without question! You never listen to a single word I have to say!"

I looked at them, my voice trembling with the weight of years. "When anything happens, you always think I was at fault! It's because you think I owe my mother a life, isn't it? You think I deserve to die!"

Along with the blood, the last of my tears hit the floor. Luca fell silent, unable to speak.

But my father, having finished his call, turned to me with an unnerving, icy calm. "Isn't that true?" he asked.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

I started to laugh. The blood in my stomach surged upward, and I could no longer hold it back. It sprayed out across the floor.

"Yes. I am the sinner," I gasped. "One life, right? I'll pay you back!"

The next second, a massive amount of blood erupted from my throat. My vision went pitch black, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor.