Chapter 3

Valentina Marcelli arrived the following day.

She swept in wearing a crimson Valentino gown and five-inch heels, each step a declaration of ownership.

As the Marcelli heiress and Vincent's bride-to-be, she possessed everything a mafia noblewoman should—beauty, ambition, and the venom of a serpent.

"Vincent." She draped herself on his arm, her voice honeyed. "Our wedding is set for next month. Every family in Italy will be there."

Vincent nodded, his expression indifferent. "Handle it however you see fit."

I entered the sitting room carrying a tea tray and began setting out the cups.

Valentina's gaze landed on me, a flash of cold calculation in her eyes.

"So you're the servant?" She looked me over. "Pretty enough, I suppose. No wonder Sophia says you have ulterior motives."

I kept my eyes down and said nothing.

"Come here. Pour me some tea." She beckoned with a flick of her fingers.

I approached and tilted the teapot.

Just as the tea was about to flow into her cup, she "accidentally" knocked my hand—

Tea splashed across her dress.

"Ah!" She shrieked and leapt to her feet. "You clumsy idiot! Do you have any idea how much this dress costs?!"

I stood frozen, and before I could respond, Sophia rushed over.

"Vincent, you saw that! This woman has ulterior motives—she did it on purpose!"

"It was clearly—"

"And she has the nerve to argue?!" Valentina cut me off, all trace of sweetness gone, her face twisted with malice. "Vincent, as your future wife, I believe servants like this need to be severely punished. Otherwise, how will you maintain discipline?"

I looked up at Vincent, wanting to explain.

But he merely gave me a cold glance, his voice flat: "Deal with her according to family rules."

"No—"

Before I could finish, guards had already grabbed me.

Back in solitary confinement.

This time, it wasn't just the cold. There was hunger too.

Valentina ordered them to cut off my food and water, saying I needed time to "reflect properly."

The first day, I huddled in the corner, pressing myself against the wall for warmth.

The second day, someone slid photographs under the door.

I picked them up, and my heart clenched like someone had grabbed it in a fist—

Pictures of Vincent and Valentina.

At a mafia gathering, his arm around her waist. At their engagement ceremony, exchanging rings. Outside the Rome opera house, his head bent to kiss her.

On the back of each photo, someone had scrawled taunting words in red ink.

"Isabella, you were never anything but a stand-in."

"He forgot about you ages ago. What are you still dreaming about?"

"Get out of the Romano estate. There's no place for you here."

I did want to leave the Romano estate, but Vincent—even with amnesia—kept me under watch and wouldn't let me go.

I knew this was Sophia's handiwork.

For twenty years, she'd resented me for taking her place. Now she could finally unleash her revenge without restraint.

I tore the photographs to shreds and let them fall to the floor.

Then I closed my eyes and started counting my breaths.

One, two, three...

Just one more day.

Lorenzo would come for me then.

I would leave this place and return to the family I truly belonged to.

And everyone who had degraded me—

Antonio, Maria, Sophia, Valentina...

Not to mention Vincent, who now treated me like a servant.

I wouldn't let a single one of them go.

The door finally opened on the third day.

Sunlight stabbed at my eyes. I was practically dragged out by the guards.

"Miss Valentina wants to go shopping. You'll attend her."

I staggered to my feet, my body so weak I could barely stand.

Three days without food. My stomach had been cramping for a while now, and my limbs had no strength left from the cold and starvation.

But I knew—today was the third day.

Lorenzo had promised that after three days, he would get me out of this hell.

I just had to make it through today...

"Move it!" A guard shoved me impatiently. "Keep the future lady of the house waiting, and how many lives do you think you have?"

I drew a deep breath and followed him out.