Vincenzo Costa and I have been in love with each other for eight years. Everyone knows that the heir of the Costa family loves me more than life itself.

In order to marry me—an orphan—Vincenzo has knelt outside Costa Estate for three days and three nights. At the same time, he has received 99 whips from his father, the Don of the Costa family, which almost kills him.

In the end, Don Edmondo Costa finally agrees to let Vincenzo marry me. But the catch is, Vincenzo must date Sofia Camorra, the Principessa of the Camorra family, and have an heir with her.

So, Vincenzo tells me to wait for him for a little longer.

I end up waiting for a very long time while watching him traveling to Sofia's villa time and again.

At first, Vincenzo still takes three showers and scrubs his skin so much that it turns red. He tells me that once Sofia has given birth to the child, which allows him to fulfill the promise he has made to the Costa family, he'll whisk me far away from the violence and spend the rest of his life with me.

Alas, everything has changed.

Vincenzo no longer showers frequently. He constantly smells like Sofia's perfume now. He doesn't inform in advance whenever he goes on dates with Sofia. To make things worse, there's nothing but affection in his eyes whenever he looks at her.

When Sofia burns up from a fever during her pregnancy, Vincenzo doesn't leave her side at all. She pretends to be gracious by telling him about how understanding she is about his situation. Because of that, Vincenzo wastes no time in admonishing me for being spoiled and pampered.

Through the gap in the ward door, I can hear how close and intimate Vincenzo and Sofia are. At the same time, I notice the flash of provocation in Sofia's eyes.

Vincenzo has made me wait year after year, not knowing that my biological parents have already found me. They want me to go home with them so that they can give me a real home.

That's why this time, I won't be waiting for Vincenzo anymore.

I stood outside the VIP ward of a private hospital.

The voices inside carried through the door, feeling like sharp needles driving straight into my chest.

"Vincenzo, my fever's down. You should go. Ella must be worried."

Sofia Camorra's voice carried a deliberate note of sympathy.

That little play-hard-to-get tactic was so obvious that anyone with half a brain could see right through it.

"Worried about what?"

Vincenzo Costa's voice was full of tenderness. He used to only speak to me like that.

"If she hadn't thrown that water on you, would you have spiked to 102 degrees Fahrenheit? You're carrying the heir of the Costa and Camorra families. I'm not leaving your side."

My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palm until it went numb.

It had been eight years.

Eight years ago, I was digging through trash in the slums for leftover bread. Dirt clung to my skin.

Meanwhile, he was the golden heir of the Costa family, dressed in tailored suits and surrounded by admirers.

No one believed in us. Even the beggars laughed at me, saying I was delusional and that he would toss me aside once he was bored.

The Costa family made it clear they would never allow a slum orphan to taint their bloodline.

However, Vincenzo refused to give up. To make his father, Don Edmondo Costa, allow our relationship, he knelt outside the iron gates of Costa Estate for three days and nights.

Edmondo was furious. He ordered 99 lashes across Vincenzo's back. Each strike tore skin and drew blood. However, Vincenzo never once said he would leave me.

In the end, Edmondo relented. But his approval came with a cruel condition.

But now, Vincenzo's eyes held only Sofia, the Principessa of the Camorra family.

The woman who was meant to seal an alliance had somehow become the treasure he cradled in his hands.

It hadn't always been this way.

When Sofia first approached Vincenzo with an offer of alliance from the Camorra family, she handed him a red rose. He threw it straight into the trash.

He grabbed my hand and said, "Ella, you're the only one I want. That Camorra family's Principessa? I can't even stand looking at her."

Everything changed the day Edmondo laid down his condition.

He made it clear that Vincenzo had to get Sofia pregnant with an heir who carried both families' blood. Only then would he feel comfortable letting him marry a slum orphan like me.

Vincenzo's eyes were red when he told me, "Ella, just bear with it for a while. Once she has the baby, I'll take you away. I don't care about family power or businesses. I only want you."

I believed him.

Every time he came back from Sofia's villa, he showered three times, scrubbing his skin until it turned raw.

He told me, "Whenever I sleep with her, I think about you. Otherwise, I couldn't last a second. I don't want you smelling another woman on me."

I felt sorry for Vincenzo. I told myself to endure it. Once he finished what he had to do, we would go back to how we were.

But when did everything start to change?

At some point, he stopped showering so obsessively. Sometimes, he carried Sofia's perfume on him.

He started showing up to Sofia's dates half an hour early and stopped updating me on where he was.

One day, fighting back the bitterness in my chest, I passed by her villa and heard sounds from inside that made my stomach turn.

Through the crack in the door, I saw him drenched in sweat. His gaze was filled with undisguised possessiveness.

That should have been the moment I woke up. Vincenzo wasn't acting anymore. He had betrayed us for real.

The voices inside the ward continued.

Sofia let out a soft laugh. Her tone turned even more innocent. "Ella has it hard too. No woman wants to share the man she loves. I don't blame her for hurting me."

Vincenzo's voice turned cold. "It's my fault for spoiling her. This time, I have to teach her a lesson so she knows what she should and shouldn't do."

Clothes rustled. Wet, lingering kisses followed.

Then, Vincenzo murmured in a low and indulgent voice, "Get some rest. The doctor said you can be discharged tonight. I'll stay with you."

Sofia said nothing.

But I felt it. Her gaze slid through the crack in the door and landed on me, full of open triumph.

Vincenzo seemed to sense someone outside.

I heard his approaching footsteps. He yanked the door open.

When he saw me, surprise flickered across his expression. He had no idea how long I'd been standing there.

However, soon, his tone turned guarded. "Why are you here? Sofia almost miscarried because of you. Did you come to cause another scene?"

"No… I just wanted to bring her some food…" I replied.

Before I could even put the thermal container in front of him, Vincenzo snatched it from my hands.

He lifted the lid, glanced inside, and frowned with irritation. His tone was sharp and impatient as he said, "Sofia's carrying our heir. Her stomach is delicate. She can't eat this."

I froze. My fingers were still hovering in the position I'd held when I'd reached out.

I'd started cooking this tomato beef stew at 5:00 am, simmering the beef until it was tender. Vincenzo used to eat two big bowls of this.

However, now, in his eyes, it had become a "risk" to Sofia.

"I made it myself. It's clean, and it suits her tastes," I said in a trembling voice as I wrung my hands.

Vincenzo didn't seem to hear. He turned and dumped the entire pot of stew straight into the trash.

"Ella Pezzano, don't push your luck." He spun toward me, and his gaze was ice-cold.

"If you hadn't doused her with water, would her temperature have spiked to 102 degrees? And now you have the nerve to show up here? Are you trying to hurt her again?"

Sofia, who was lying on the bed, tugged on his arm with fake concern. "Vincenzo, don't be so harsh. Ella just cares about me."

"Cares?" Vincenzo scoffed. "If she really cared, she wouldn't do something like this."

He looked at me again. "You need to learn a lesson. Either you stay home for three days, or you stay away from my and Sofia's residence forever. And don't ever come here again! I won't let you hurt her."

My heart sank. "Stay away? Vincenzo, who gave you the right to control me?"

"You nearly killed the heir of both our families!" His tone left no room for argument. "Sofia's safety comes first."

Sofia spoke at just the right moment. She wore a fake smile. "Vincenzo, don't push Ella. Honestly, I don't really need anything from her. If she's willing to give me the pendant around her neck as compensation, then I'll let this slide."

Her eyes locked on the cross around my neck.

Eight years ago, after Vincenzo had taken 99 lashes and his back was a bloody mess, he had pressed his own blood onto a wooden mold to make this pendant.

At the time, he said it was soaked in his blood, so it would protect me and serve as our token of love. He had asked me to wear it forever.

Instinctively, I clutched the pendant. Just as I was about to refuse, Vincenzo's hand shot out.

He gripped it hard and snapped the chain.

"Here." He handed the pendant to Sofia.

His tone softened instantly, and he even ruffled her hair. "You'll have whatever you want."

Sofia clipped the pendant around her neck and shot me a triumphant smirk. "Grazie, Ella. I'll treasure it."

I watched the pendant that was meant to protect me swing around her neck and suddenly laughed.

I laughed at the absurdity of eight years of loyalty and at the cheapness of Vincenzo's so-called devotion.

"Vincenzo," I said, my voice calm and cutting, "you two suit each other perfectly."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Vincenzo froze. My unexpected reaction threw him off.

As he watched my back, a strange panic stirred in him. He instinctively stepped forward. His Adam's apple bobbed as he called out sharply, "Ella!"

Vincenzo chased after me and caught my hand in a few strides.

Realizing he'd been too harsh, he softened his tone, trying to calm me. "Ella, I know Sofia bothers you, but this is just a deal. I only care about you!"

I jerked my hand free and stepped back, keeping my distance. "A deal?"

I thought about what happened last month. He said he was handling family matters, but I ran into him and Sofia at a mall downtown.

They were holding hands. She leaned against him, trying on jewelry, and he helped her patiently. His gaze was filled with tenderness.

I confronted him on the spot, and he fumbled through an explanation. "Ella, don't misunderstand. I'm just finishing the task. I have to please her so she can deliver the baby safely. Once it's done, we'll leave."

That night, I received a message from Sofia.

A photo was attached, showing her and Vincenzo in a hotel suite. She was wearing the necklace he'd just bought her as she snuggled in his arms.

She wrote, "Ella, do you really think he still loves you? He cares for me far more than he ever did for you. You're just a spare."

"Vincenzo," I called out.

When I looked at his anxious face, I felt nothing but irony. "Your 'just a deal' meant shopping with her and staying in hotels? Meanwhile, I have been waiting year after year, and now she's carrying your baby?"

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but his phone rang.

It was Sofia. Her voice cracked. "Vincenzo, my stomach hurts. Please come back…"

Vincenzo's expression shifted instantly, and when he looked at me, there was a trace of guilt in his eyes.

However, he didn't hesitate. "Ella, go home. Once this baby is born, I'll make it up to you."

With that, he ran straight toward the hospital without even a glance back.

What he didn't know was that he would never get the chance to make it up to me.

Not long ago, my birth parents found me.

They hadn't abandoned me. It turned out that a tragic accident years ago had forced us apart, and they'd spent all these years searching for me.

Before, I had been hesitating over whether to go with them because of Vincenzo.

However, now, watching him run toward another woman without a second thought, I made up my mind.

I pulled out my phone and called my parents. "Mamma, Papa, I want to go with you."

Their voices erupted in joy.

Mamma choked on her words. "What about Vincenzo? You always said—"

"He's not important anymore," I cut her off. "Help me prepare a new identity. I want to start completely fresh."

They didn't question me and just agreed. "Okay, sure. We'll send someone to get you in three days. We'll make sure everything is perfect."

…

After hanging up, I returned to Costa Estate.

To make Sofia comfortable during her pregnancy, Vincenzo had long since kicked me out of the master bedroom.

I was shoved into a small, cold, damp room tucked in the farthest corner of the estate.

On the wall hung an old photo of us.

In it, he was smiling at the camera. He had said, "Ella, wait for me. I'll marry you."

Back then, he'd taken 99 lashes and knelt for three days straight, all for me.

Now, for another woman, he could dismiss my years of devotion and give our token of love to her.

I tore the photo from the wall and tossed it in the trash.

Then, I started packing. Not a single piece of clothing he'd bought me or jewelry he'd given me made it into my bag.

Eight years of love had turned out to be nothing but a mirage.

I was going to find the family that was truly mine—a home where I wouldn't be hurt, where I wouldn't have to wait endlessly.