Nadia looked up at Timoteo with teary eyes. "Timoteo, my chest hurts so much. I'm so useless."

She was reminding him that this chronic pain was the price she paid for saving his life all those years ago.

Sure enough, the next second, Timoteo carefully picked her up with a frown.

He didn't spare me another glance. Instead, he muttered, "Utterly incorrigible."

With that, he disappeared down the hallway with Nadia in his arms.

…

I was thrown into the basement of the Panno estate.

The lashes of a whip came down tirelessly. The pain was so intense I could barely make a sound.

The man assigned to interrogate me glared with malice. "How dare you target Ms. Bellucci? Don Panno asked me to teach you a lesson!"

My skin tore open. Blood poured out, staining the floor.

Before I passed out, memories flooded back.

It was when the Underboss betrayed the family, and Timoteo almost died in that shootout.

I fought to protect him, carving a bloody path out.

When it was all over, Timoteo didn't go to the hospital. He dragged me straight into the church.

Under the gaze of the Virgin Mary, we stood side by side, swearing an oath to always be each other's most trusted person.

He said he'd always have me by his side, trust me completely, and wanted me as his Underboss because he felt safe with me having his back.

But when Nadia came into the picture, all of that meant nothing.

In her presence, I was just an object that could be doubted at any moment.

An hour later, I was woken up by cold water being splashed in my face.

The iron door creaked open, and Luca Morganti, the Consigliere, walked in.

Luca looked at me with a complicated expression before speaking in a strictly professional tone. "Per Don Panno, you will attend the trial tomorrow."

I struggled to turn my eyes toward him.

He avoided my gaze and continued, "If you plead guilty to all the charges, Don Panno won't pursue the matter of you hiring people to kill Ms. Bellucci."

A harsh, rasping sound came from my throat, but I couldn't speak. I could only spit out blood.

Maybe because we'd once worked together, Luca softened his tone. "Just plead guilty. Don Panno is really angry right now. Ms. Bellucci was scared, and he felt sorry for her."

I couldn't respond.

The footsteps grew faint as he left.

I lay on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling.

Three years ago, during a deal with a Sirithi arms dealer, he suddenly reneged. Without warning, he pulled a gun and aimed straight for Timoteo's heart.

I didn't hesitate to take the bullet for him.

In the pool of blood, he shed tears for me for the first time. "Fina, hang in there. Please don't leave me. Live for me."

I had done so much more than Nadia ever did when it came to saving Timoteo's life. But why did he only remember her saving him and forget about me?

I touched the badge on my chest and said firmly, "You win. I'll see you at court tomorrow."

The next day, I was carried into the courtroom.

"Serafina Liberi, do you plead guilty?"

I closed my eyes and rasped, "Yes, I plead guilty."

The judge seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. As he brought the gavel down, the courtroom's bulletproof glass shattered.

Bullets rained down, and chaos erupted as the crowd screamed.

I looked up and saw Timoteo firmly holding Nadia behind him.

He pulled out his gun and started returning fire. With each move he made, he shielded Nadia from the danger with his body.

Through it all, not once did he look at me.

The attackers had one goal—to take Timoteo's life.

"Timoteo Panno! Today is your day to die!"

The leader of the attackers gave a wicked grin and signaled his men to focus their fire.

Timoteo fought while retreating, trying to move toward the nearest exit.

Terrified, Nadia clung to his arm. She didn't even dare to look up.

I should have remained a cold observer.

Timoteo had pushed me out to take all the blame, including the bloodshed that should have been his. For Nadia, he didn't hesitate to make me carry everything.

Just as I was about to make my escape amid the chaos, my peripheral vision caught sight of the necklace around Timoteo's neck.

It was the only clue I had left about my family and the very token of love I had given him.

I couldn't just let it be destroyed. I would take back what was mine!

The moment I saw the sniper's scope aimed at Timoteo, I threw myself forward without thinking.

The force of the impact sent me flying, crashing into Timoteo's arms.

I could hear my own breath, heavy and ragged in my chest. Every lungful of air tasted like blood.

Timoteo's body stiffened at once.

"Fina?"

His arm instinctively tightened around me, trying to catch my slipping form.

The pain was so intense that the world blurred before my eyes, but I struggled to raise my head and look at his face.

I had known this face for 12 years and loved it for just as long. Today, I finally let go for good.

Timoteo's pupils dilated in shock, and his arm holding me shook uncontrollably. His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to say something.

"Timoteo, help me!" Nadia, tear-streaked and trembling, looked at him desperately.

His body tensed, and his eyes flashed with a painful conflict.

One was me—the one who had been by his side for 12 years. The other was Nadia—the first love he had once lost and now regained.

His hesitation lasted only a moment, but to me, it felt like the entirety of the 12 years I'd been discarded.

Timoteo took off his jacket and pressed it onto my wound. His voice was a panicked blur of command and comfort as he said, "Fina, hang in there! I'll be back soon, I promise!"

With the last bit of strength I had left, I reached out and grabbed him. "I want that necklace to stay with me. Can I have it?"

He tore the necklace off and shoved it into my hand. Without even a glance back, he ran toward Nadia.

He didn't even leave anyone behind to protect me.

I clenched the necklace, my gaze hard and final.

Did Timoteo still expect me to believe in him?

When he came back, he would either send me to prison or let me bleed out, so Nadia could finally be at ease.

I decided to end it here.

Since Timoteo had saved my life, I should repay him this way.

With great difficulty, I began crawling toward the window at the back.

Behind me, I heard Luca's urgent shout. "Ms. Liberi, don't move! Don Panno wants you to wait for him!"

Wait?

I'd never wait again.

With my last ounce of strength, I hauled myself out of the window.

Outside, a seaside cliff loomed. The ocean gale roared into my mouth and lungs. The sea below was a violent surge of waves, dark and bottomless.

I turned one last time to look at the chaotic crowd, almost imagining Timoteo rushing toward me.

He taught me how to shoot, how to kill, and how to be ruthless, but he never taught me how to stop loving him or forgive myself.

I released my grip on the rocks and let my body fall backward into the tumultuous sea below.

The moment the water engulfed me, the world grew quiet.

This was for the best.

From this moment on, we owed each other nothing.