On Christmas Eve, my parents and my fiancé, Ivano Dominici, finally agree to accompany me to Iberion to see the aurora. But when I arrive there, they never show up no matter how long I wait.

I send messages to ask. They reply helplessly that something urgent has come up at the last minute and tell me to go to the observation point and wait. I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me.

When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave.

Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides.

Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness.

The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!"

The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages.

I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada.

But this time, I do not argue or make a scene.

I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas."

I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me.

But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

Cristina's POV

I stood alone on the ice field until the aurora faded.

I took a flight home, and my family still wasn't back.

As soon as I took off my coat, my phone started vibrating intensely. My fiancé Ivano Dominici's name lit up the screen, sharp and glaring.

I didn't pick up right away like I usually did. Instead, I let it ring until it cut off. Only when it rang again did I slowly answer.

Before I could say anything, Ivano's slightly impatient voice came through. "Cristina Soave, can you stop trying to compete with Giada for attention? She can't handle the cold. The weather in Iberion is too much for her.

"Have you thought about how lonely she'd be spending Christmas alone? We stayed behind just to keep her company. Delete that comment now, or I won't pick you up."

Lonely?

No one knew the taste of that word better than I did.

After war broke out in the country where I was studying, Mamma begged me to drop out and return to Caldoria immediately.

That feeling never left me.

It morphed into anxiety, fear, self-doubt, and countless sleepless nights.

I looked at my cold, swollen fingers, then slowly asked, "Ivano, did you have a happy Christmas?"

Caught off guard by my response, the other end of the line went quiet.

All the lectures he'd planned were suddenly stuck in his throat.

Smiling, I said softly, "I had a happy Christmas too because I discovered a secret. The comment I wrote wasn't meant to mock you. I genuinely wish all of you well."

Without hesitation, I hung up.

The black screen reflected my face, calm and emotionless.

The secret I'd discovered was that true love didn't need to be begged for. What I begged for wasn't real love.

I exhaled into my palm, then turned and walked into the closet.

I pushed aside the luxurious dresses I'd never worn, revealing a simple suitcase in the corner.

I pulled it out and unzipped it. Inside were all my trophies, certificates of merit, and my hard-earned degrees.

I had hoped they'd be proud of me, but now… it didn't matter.

I packed my laptop and stationery. These were the only things I truly planned to take with me.

Suddenly, my phone rang again. It was Florina Cannella, my biological Mamma.

I stared at it for a moment, then let it ring until it stopped.

Next came a call from my Papa, Tatum Soave.

I declined it, then turned the phone to silent before walking into the bathroom.

Papa's message was short and commanding. As the Don of the Soave family, he was used to being obeyed.

"Giada's heart is almost giving out because of that comment of yours! Come here and apologize to Ivano now!"

I glanced at it coldly before turning off my phone.

Before I could sever ties completely, there was one last thing I had to do.

I reached into the safe in my room and pulled out two items—a Donna ring and an unlimited black bank card.

The Donna ring was worn on my finger during my engagement to Ivano, in front of both families. It was a symbol that I was to be the future Donna of the Dominici family.

The unlimited black bank card was a gift from my parents the day I returned to Caldoria.

They told me that it was a guarantee I would never be looked down on again. I had always treasured it and never used it.

I placed them side by side on the bedside table and took a photo.

Then, I opened the family group chat, where my sister, Giada Soave, was always posting selfies and interacting with them.

I tapped on the photo and sent it.

I then typed one last message in the chat. "I've never used them. You can give them to someone more suitable. From now on, I'll rely on myself."

The moment I sent the message, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders.

Before long, my phone started vibrating nonstop. The group chat was flooded with unread messages, but I didn't bother opening any of them.

Then, Mamma's call came through for the third time.

This time, I answered.

"Cristina, do you really have to break my heart like this?"

Her voice was trembling. "Why are you giving us back those things? Giada is having a heart attack because of it! She's in the hospital now! She's your sister. Did you even think about how your action would affect her?"

As I listened to her familiar words, my eyes stung, but no tears came.

This again.

Giada's poor health and fragile heart had always been her shield against criticism.

She had congenital heart disease, so my parents had to care for her, and I was sent away to boarding school at a young age.

And because of her, I was forced to learn how to survive independently before I even knew how to connect with my family.

Later, when I went abroad for high school, I struggled with the language barrier and felt overwhelmed.

But they scolded me for not calling often enough, for not being close enough to them, and for not having Giada's "gentle" nature.

In the past, I craved their love, and I would apologize. But I wouldn't do that anymore.

I gently interrupted Mamma's sobs. "Donna Soave, please stop crying."

The crying suddenly stopped.

I gave her a second to process the unfamiliar name, then spoke calmly again. "When you say these things, did you ever think that it might hurt me too?"

The line went silent.

Without waiting for her response, I hung up and turned off the phone.

The next morning, I packed my suitcase and moved into a single apartment near the office.

At the company's morning meeting, the director made a major announcement. One of our top Fennaris partners had opened a lead position on a core project overseas, with a one-year term.

Landing it would mean stepping directly into the international design scene. More importantly, it would mean that I could finally escape the control of the Soave and Dominici families.

But the director's next words were like a bucket of cold water.

"To ensure candidates are unaffected by domestic financial circumstances, applicants must provide proof of assets. Specifically, they must have 300 thousand dollars in an overseas account."

300 thousand dollars?

I checked my bank balance.

After deducting rent and other expenses, I didn't even have a fraction of that amount.

As a professional designer, my income wasn't low. But with every paycheck, I spent it all on expensive gifts for the Soaves and Ivano.

I had naively believed that if I gave everything without holding back, I'd get something in return one day.

But now I realized that if I weren't favored, nothing I did would matter.

Could I ask them for 300 thousand dollars?

No way.

From that day on, I stripped my life down to the bare essentials.

I spent my days at the office, buried in countless design sketches and revisions. At night, I took on side jobs, accepting every project I could find.

I worked through the nights, too exhausted to even lift my arms.

But when the money I earned with sweat hit my account, I felt at peace.

I thought I could escape their high-society world. But little did I know, someone wasn't willing to let me go.

That early morning, after finishing my side job, I sat in my rented room eating a cold piece of bread.

My friend, Debora Barbati, sent me a short video from a party.

The camera was focused on Giada.

She stood gracefully in the banquet hall, pretending to be concerned as she said, "Cristina hasn't come home in days. I'm so worried about her."

Not far away, Ivano was raising his glass, but his hand suddenly froze in midair. He frowned. "What's going on?"

Giada lowered her eyes, her voice growing softer. "I heard she's working multiple jobs. It's so hard for her. Do you think she's spent all her money? It's all our fault. If we had gone with her to Iberion during Christmas, she wouldn't have left. Should we help her out?"

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as they exchanged loaded glances.

The video cut off there.

Debora sent an angry voice message. "Cristina, did you hear that? What nonsense is she talking about?"

I sighed softly and swallowed the last bite of dry bread.

Giada always knew how to step on me just enough to make herself seem kind. With just a few words, she turned my efforts into a childish tantrum.

And of course, Ivano believed her.

As expected, the next second, my phone buzzed with a wire transfer notification. Ivano had given me one million dollars.

His message followed immediately, every line of text dripping with condescending arrogance.

"You're my future Donna. Your hands are for wearing rings, not doing dirty work. Stop testing my limits by degrading yourself like this. Come get your Donna ring back when you're done playing."

I locked my phone, ignoring the million-dollar transfer.

The next day, I went to the office as usual and took on another side job after work.

Two weeks later, at an anonymous initial review meeting, my main design draft, Midnight Sun, was projected onto the big screen.

The project coordinator suddenly jumped to his feet. His voice barely contained his excitement as he exclaimed, "This piece has a soul! Every line seems to be breathing."

The room erupted in awe.

I sat in the corner. My hand gripping the pen was slick with sweat.

This was the ark I'd built through countless sleepless nights. It was finally going to carry me out of this torment.

The shortlist would be announced the next morning.

But the night before, just as I finished double-checking the data and preparing to encrypt it, the screen suddenly flashed, turning into a blinding blue.

A string of garbled code scrolled rapidly, and within seconds, the system froze completely.

I tried rebooting, updating, and controlling in the background, but the screen remained still.

Tens of gigabytes of design data were gone.

A cold shiver ran up my spine.

I suddenly remembered that Giada had boasted on social media about meeting a "genius hacker" just a few days ago.

In that instant, the string of my sanity snapped.

I grabbed a cab and headed straight for Soave Manor. Upon entering, I kicked open Giada's bedroom door.

Mamma and Papa were gathered around her bed, fussing over her.

When they saw me burst in with bloodshot eyes, Mamma paused for a moment, then smiled in relief. "Cristina? You're finally back. I knew you wouldn't last out there…"

I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Giada lying in bed. "Did you hire someone to hack my laptop?"

Giada flinched and curled deeper into her blankets. Her eyes instantly welled up. "Cristina, what are you talking about? I haven't even left my room. How can you just come back and yell at me?"

"Cristina, are you done?" Papa snapped, his voice sharp and piercing. "You finally come home, and instead of apologizing, you're yelling at Giada?"

Mamma caught on and joined in, shouting, "Giada has a heart condition! Don't you know that? Are you trying to kill her? I'll get Ivano here to let him see what kind of crazy woman you've become!"

She actually did it.

In less than ten minutes, Ivano arrived.

Seeing Giada with red eyes, curled up on the bed, he frowned and subtly positioned himself in front of her. "Cristina, I didn't expect jealousy to change you like this. When you won the award, you didn't share any of the glory with Giada. Now, when your laptop crashes, you blame it on her?"

He stepped forward, looking at me with nothing but disappointment in his eyes. "Did I not give you enough money? Is this a stunt to get money for repairs? If you can't handle the hardships out there, just give up and apologize.

"I never said you couldn't come back to me. Why must you make the whole family so unsettled? You're nothing like the smart, thoughtful Cristina I used to know!"

I stood there, staring at these people—some related by blood and some by an engagement.

My parents were endlessly scolding me, and my fiancé blamed me for competing for attention and scheming the moment he walked in without even asking for an explanation.

Each of them used their sharpest words to defend Giada, stabbing me.

Suddenly, I laughed.

I laughed until tears hit the floor. "You're right. It's pretty ridiculous that I came back in the middle of the night like this."

Without explaining, I just turned and walked out.

Behind me, voices shouted, but I couldn't hear them anymore.

Back in my cramped apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, burying my face in my knees.

It was ruined. Everything was ruined.

Just as I was about to give up completely, my phone, which I'd left on the side, lit up.

It was an email. The sender's name was a string of encrypted gibberish.

My hands shook as I opened it.

Inside the attachment was a massive compressed file. The name was "Midnight Sun".

I staggered to my backup laptop, downloaded the file, and unzipped it.

When the files appeared on the screen, tears burst from my eyes. Inside were all the original drafts and data for my design.

And in the body of the anonymous email, there was only one brief sentence. "Your talent should never be confined by any cage."