Chapter 2

Elena’s POV

Chiara quickly walked over to Marco and lowered her voice.

“Don, Donna has already signed away custody.”

Then she squeezed out a couple of tears.

“Poor Luca. I’ve never seen a mother give up her own child so easily.”

“If Donna can cheat repeatedly, I doubt she has much love for her child either. After all, having a child would only get in the way of her affairs...”

She shot me a contemptuous look.

I laughed.

She seemed to have forgotten...

Four years ago, this absurd agreement, right down to the exact number of “affairs,” had been drafted by her.

Marco’s expression turned cold.

“You’d better keep your word. Don’t come crawling back to me on your knees later.”

With that, he turned and left.

I watched his retreating back and gave a faint smile.

I wouldn’t, Marco.

This time, I was going home.

I wasn’t Sicilian.

When my parents learned who Marco really was, they had furiously taken me back to California and opposed our relationship.

I knelt outside my father’s study for three days and three nights, begging him to let me leave, sobbing that I couldn’t live without Marco.

Finally, on the third day, my defeated father opened the villa gates.

I rushed back to Sicily without looking back.

But now, I didn’t want to beg anymore.

Chiara looked at me with a slight curve to her lips.

“Donna, we’ll leave you and your lover alone, then.”

The moment the door closed, silence returned to the room.

I glanced down at the man still unconscious on the bed.

Nausea churned in my stomach.

I had woken up before him. I could have left before they arrived to catch me.

I was simply tired of this cat-and-mouse game.

At last, I put on my coat and walked out without looking back.

The next evening, I returned to pack my things.

When I opened the master bedroom door, I realized everything I normally used or wore was gone.

The maid stammered, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Donna, all your belongings have been moved to the storage room... Consigliere Chiara said the master bedroom needed to be cleared out because... there’ll be a new Donna soon.”

I smiled.

After four years as Donna, I wasn’t even being allowed a dignified exit.

I turned and headed for the storage room in the backyard.

When I opened the door, boxes were stacked on boxes, bags piled on bags.

I crouched down and searched through them one by one.

Nothing else mattered.

I had to find the ruby-and-pearl necklace my mother had given me.

My grandmother had passed it down to my mother, and my mother had passed it down to me.

It was the only thing in this house that truly belonged to me.

Finally, I found the necklace at the bottom of a box.

I clenched it in my hand and let out a long breath.

I was gathering a few clothes to take with me when a childish voice came from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

I turned.

Luca’s small figure blocked the doorway.

My sweet son had once been the only comfort in my miserable marriage.

He looked almost exactly like Marco, but that haughty, condescending posture was pure Chiara.

“Taking my things.”

I lowered my head and continued packing.

Usually, whenever I saw him, I would ask for a hug even if he pushed me away.

This time, I was completely calm.

“Those aren’t yours.”

When I ignored him, he walked inside.

He stepped directly onto the clothes scattered across the floor.

“Aunt Chiara said everything in this house belongs to Dad. You’re not allowed to take anything.”

My hands paused.

“These are my own things.”

“The money you spent was Dad’s.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Dad’s money belongs to the Vitale family. It has nothing to do with a bad woman like you.”

Bad woman?

I looked up.

My four-year-old son stood in front of me, staring at me as if I were a thief.

“I’m only here to take what belongs to me.”

I tightened my grip around the necklace and stood.

“I don’t want anything else.”

“No.”

He stepped in front of me and spread his arms.

“What in here belongs to you? Aunt Chiara said you’re just a whore who lives off my dad! I won’t let you steal from the Vitale family.”

His voice rose.

“You’re a jerk! You steal things! Aunt Chiara said once you leave, you’re not allowed to come back. If you come back, you’re stealing!”

My temples throbbed.

“Move.”

“No! Put it down!”

He lunged at me and grabbed the box in my hand.

Suddenly, it tore open.

He yanked at the necklace, and the strand snapped.

Pearls burst across the floor, rolling in every direction.

I froze.

My ears rang with my mother’s voice.

“Elena, this has been passed down through our family for six generations. Someday, give it to your daughter. If you don’t have a daughter, pass it on to your daughter-in-law...”

I had no daughter.

I had no daughter-in-law.

All I had was this necklace.

It had survived in my family for hundreds of years.

And now, in my hands, it had been destroyed by my own son.