Chapter 2

I packed a few changes of clothes, took Bella by the hand, and went back to the Romano estate.

Every other time I'd come home, my adoptive parents would come out smiling before I even reached the door.

This time, my adoptive mother's voice was thick with disgust:

"What are you doing here?"

"Mom… I have nowhere to go. I just need to stay one night with Bella."

She sneered. "The Romano estate isn't a homeless shelter. Don't bring your bad luck in here."

My chest tightened.

Bella peeked out from behind me, timid and small: "Grandpa! Grandma!"

Her voice was soft and sweet, just like always—waiting for them to scoop her up.

Their faces remained stone-cold:

"Don't call us that. We don't have trashy relatives like you."

It hit me like a blow to the head. I stood rooted to the spot.

A few days apart, and we'd gone from adopted daughter to not even worth claiming as distant family?

I still remembered when my adoptive father used to lift me over his head and declare that Sofia was the jewel of the Romano family.

My adoptive mother used to brag to everyone about how accomplished her adopted daughter was.

But ever since Alessia came back, their love for me vanished overnight.

The family businesses I managed were stripped away, one by one.

The connections I'd painstakingly built were transferred to Alessia's name, piece by piece.

At the time, I'd told myself it made sense—Alessia was their real daughter. Compensating her was only natural.

Now I finally understood. They resented me.

They resented me for being the cuckoo in their nest, for living the life that should have been Alessia's.

Vito's cruel words still echoed in my ears.

To make Alessia feel better, they'd sanctioned that entire charade—that public humiliation—and ground me and Bella beneath their heels without a shred of mercy.

I swallowed the emotions churning inside me and tested the waters:

"What if… that DNA test was wrong? What if the results were falsified?"

My adoptive mother paused. "The evidence is right there. You still want to argue?"

I swallowed the emotions churning inside me and tested the waters:

"What if… that DNA test was wrong? What if the results were falsified?"

My adoptive mother paused. "The evidence is right there. You still want to argue?"

My adoptive father fixed me with a cold stare: "Everyone saw it. You've already dragged the Romano name through the mud. If a DNA test isn't proof enough, what do you want? Do we need to catch you in bed with someone before you'll admit it?"

A bone-deep chill spread through me.

They knew. They knew all of it was fake.

And still, they stood there cursing me with that same venom, nailing me to the pillar of shame.

My adoptive father frowned, his tone dripping with condescension:

"Fine. If you really want to stay here, then tomorrow you'll issue a public statement. Admit that you were unfaithful during your marriage. Admit that Bella is not Vito's child. Then you'll step down from all core family positions and transfer your shares to Alessia. Unconditionally."

I could barely believe my ears. My voice shook:

"You want me to admit what? Bella is not a bastard!"

My adoptive mother didn't even look up:

"A counterfeit raising offspring—what else would you call it but counterfeit?"

Something in my mind went white with static. Something inside me shattered completely.

Just then, footsteps sounded from upstairs.

Alessia descended, eyes rimmed with red, looking for all the world like a startled deer:

"Dad, Mom, please don't do this…" She turned to me, voice gentle. "Sofia, I know you're hurting. But Mom and Dad are getting older, and the family has a reputation to protect. You can't drag everyone down because of your personal life. Just apologize, and once this all blows over, we'll still be family."

She bent down to look at Bella, eyes full of manufactured sympathy:

"As for whether the child is really Vito's… Vito is such a good man, I'm sure he won't hold it against you."

Before I could respond, my adoptive parents had already lost patience.

They ordered the bodyguards to throw my things out:

"We raised you for twenty years. We were willing to let you keep some dignity. Since you won't admit your wrongs—don't ever come back to the Romano family again."