Chapter 3

Another reporter stood up. "Ms. Romano, could you explain?"

"Oh, I'd be happy to explain." Serena's voice cut in, sweet as a sugar-coated blade.

She turned to me, wearing a smile that never reached her eyes.

"Isabella, I wanted to thank you for looking after Dante these past few years. When we were apart, it was a comfort knowing he had someone by his side."

The way she said it—as though I were the help.

"Of course, childhood sweethearts always find their way back to each other, don't they?" She gave Dante's hand a gentle squeeze. "Dante and I have known each other since we were five. First kiss, first love—both at fourteen. Some things are simply meant to be."

I saw Dante's jaw tighten. "Serena, that's enough—"

"I'm just setting the record straight." She looked out at the reporters, the picture of innocence. "I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Isabella is a friend. That's all she's ever been."

A friend.

Three years, and I was just a friend.

The photograph in my pocket burned like a brand, searing through the fabric into my skin.

"Actually—" I rose to my feet. Every camera in the room swung toward me.

I pulled the photo out and held it up to the light.

"This photograph was hidden inside a picture frame in the apartment we shared. Perhaps Ms. Serena is right—Dante Valentino and I were never really boyfriend and girlfriend."

I tossed the photo toward them, my voice eerily steady. "But let me clarify one thing. We didn't break up three months ago. Whatever we had stopped existing the moment he told me his first lie."

"I wish you both the best."

I turned and walked off the stage. A barrage of questions erupted behind me, shutters clicking in a relentless cascade.

I didn't look back. Not once.

At the end of the corridor, I leaned against the wall and tried to steady my breathing.

Footsteps echoed behind me. I didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Bella." Dante's voice was low, controlled, and dangerous. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Like hell there isn't." He closed the distance between us, one hand slamming flat against the wall beside my head. "What you just did in there—"

"What did I do?" I finally looked at him. "I told the truth. That's all."

"You're destroying the Valentino family's reputation—"

"I don't give a damn about your reputation!" My voice cracked in my throat. "All I know is that I've been made a fool of for three years."

His teeth clenched. "It's more complicated than you think."

"It's not complicated at all. You're marrying her. You lied to me. End of story."

"Serena is a family arrangement—"

"Stop saying that!" I shoved him back hard. "Stop trying to lie to me. You've known each other since you were children. She was your first love. This isn't some bullshit political alliance, Dante—you love her!"

His entire body went rigid. His Adam's apple dipped once.

"Bella, listen to me." He stepped closer, raising his hand to touch my face. "Give me two years. This marriage is nothing but an alliance. After two years, I'll divorce her. We can—"

"Two years?" My eyes went wide, my voice thick with disbelief. "So the arrangement was already set. You had this all planned out."

"You won't want for anything. A house, security, jewelry. I'll still—"

"Still sleep with me and then go home to play the loving husband with your childhood sweetheart?" I laughed—a broken, bitter sound. "That's what you're offering me? To be your mistress?"

"Don't use that word—"

"Then what should I call it? Your kept woman? Your dirty little secret?" The tears finally fell, scalding against my cheeks. "You're going to stand at the altar and make vows to her, then sneak into my bed at two in the morning. Every holiday, every family gathering—I'll have to disappear. You're negotiating the terms of your mistress like it's a business deal, Dante."

Something flickered in his eyes. "I'm trying to build a future for us—"

"You're trying to have it both ways." I flinched away from his touch. "Her connections. My body. Congratulations, Dante. You almost pulled it off."

"Bella—" His hand locked around my wrist like a vise.

"We're done. Really done. Not the 'three months ago' kind of done. The 'right now' kind of done."

I reached for his fingers with my free hand, trying to pry them loose. He pressed forward, and my back hit the wall.

"Don't think you can just walk away from this—"

That was when his phone buzzed.

I watched him glance down at the screen. Watched something shift behind his eyes.

He released my wrist.

"I'll come by tonight." He stepped back, adjusting his cuff. "We'll talk properly."

"Don't bother."

He didn't answer. He turned and picked up the call. "I'm on my way."

Of course he was.

Nina drove me back to the apartment. I dragged out a suitcase and started packing.

Finally, I pulled open the nightstand drawer and took out a small box. Inside it sat a single coin.

Last year, on my birthday, Dante had taken me to a wishing fountain. He'd fished the coin back out when I wasn't looking, said he wanted to keep my wish safe for me.

I'd asked him then: "What did you wish for?"

He'd said: "To be with Bella forever."

He'd said forever, too…

I blinked back to the present, pressed my lips together, and dropped the coin into the trash. Then I dragged the packed suitcase to the living room and sat down.

If this was going to end, I wanted it to end properly—a real goodbye, face to face with Dante.

But that whole night, Dante never came home.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by the relentless buzzing of my phone.

The press conference had blown up overnight—but not the way I'd expected.

#CrazyEx was trending number one worldwide.

"Isabella Romano Can't Accept the Breakup"

"Desperate Actress Creates Scene at Charity Event"

Sources close to the family reveal: She has been harassing the Valentinos for months