I fell in love with my Cognato, the man who had adopted me.

To outsiders, I was merely his adopted principessa from the Moretti family. No one knew about this forbidden relationship.

Right on the eve of making our relationship public and announcing our engagement, I took three bullets for him and fell into a coma.

But when I finally opened my eyes, Marco announced that his new bride would be Liliana.

"Serana, Her parents gave their lives for me. Marrying her now is simply to help her gain a firm foothold."

I loved him with my life. He thought I would cause a massive scene at the engagement party, threatening him into marrying me, or else I'd blow the bride's head off with my little BodyGuard.

Instead, I elegantly attended his engagement party, called her Cognata, and affectionately kissed her cheek.

Because only I knew that in my previous life, I had actually done just that. He was forced to marry me.

But on the night of our wedding, Liliana jumped into the sea.

After that, he became a hollow shell, never speaking a single word to me again.

I finally suffered a complete mental breakdown. In a moment of delirium, I fell down the stairs.

When Marco heard the news, he closed his eyes in sheer agony, two silent tears tracing down his jawline:

"If it weren't for you, Liliana wouldn't have died. In the next life... stay away from me."

When I opened my eyes again, I had actually been reborn.

In this life, I let him go. I didn't want that ending anymore.

But Cognato... why are you regretting it now?

When I walked into Marco and Liliana's engagement party, everyone braced for chaos.

The little principessa was going to flip the table, refused to accept an orphan girl as her Cognata.

Marco felt a bit guilty, a trace of remorse flashing across his face.

He avoided my gaze.

But the moment he saw me walking toward Liliana, his expression darkened instantly. He stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body.

His eyes held a silent plea, trying to soothe me:

"Serana, mind your manners. This is Liliana... my fiancée."

But I just smiled—bright and sweet. Perfectly behaved.

"I'm so happy my Cognato found someone he truly loves. I was wrong before, I hurt Liliana, and I want to apologize. I brought her a gift."

Then I raised my hand and clapped gently.

Behind me, my bodyguards filed in, each carrying a velvet box—jewelry, haute couture, designer bags. All priceless.

The room went dead silent. Everyone was stunned by my sudden turn.

Even Marco looked surprised.

I turned to Liliana, gathered my skirt, and dipped my head. Then—

I walked up to her, watching her shocked face, and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

"Very soon, you'll be my Cognata. I wish you happiness."

Marco came back to himself and patted my head, relieved.

I could read the confusion on Marco 's faces.

After all, I had been glued to Marco's side since I was a child.

I would bake cakes for him, nervously following recipes and adding the ingredients, only to end up burning my hands.

Every year, I prepared gifts for him and meticulously arranged his birthday banquets.

‘I was going to marry you.’ I had been saying it for four years.

But now... those words were nothing but a child's naive jokes.

The party buzzed with warmth. Everyone followed my lead, offering their blessings.

Only I knew—this wasn't how it went before.

In my past life, I cried and screamed. Marco could only soothe me, make promises:

"I'm just repaying a debt. Her parents saved my life. I need to compensate her. I swear, I'll divorce her afterward and marry you."

He said it so many times.

But on the engagement day, I still couldn't take it. I caused a scene—a disaster.

Marco had no choice. He broke it off with Liliana and agreed to marry me.

On our wedding night, Liliana threw herself into the sea right in front of us.

Marco shattered. Completely collapsed.

He blamed himself for failing to protect his savior's daughter. And he blamed me—for my jealousy, for pushing Liliana to her death.

After that, he wouldn't even look at me.

I cried. No matter how hard I cried and begged, he turned a blind eye.

I finally broke down, and in a daze, I tumbled down the stairs.

I didn't expect to wake up again.

This life, I won't make the same mistakes.

Feeling Marco's warm hand on my head, I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.

I held out my hand to him with a forced smile—cheerful, light even as my nose burned with tears:

"I accept her as my Cognata, Cognato. Now can I have my mother's ring back?"

I'd given it to him when I was sixteen. Everyone at school was talking about summer flings, but my heart was already his. 

The campus queen who never gave any guy a chance—they all wondered why.

It took me everything I had to work up the courage to confess. 

That ring was my mother's—meant for my wedding. I thought he wouldn't accept it.

Didn't expect him to say yes.

Marco froze. 

His eyes went to my hand. He remembered that night too.

"Serana... you mean this one?"

Liliana pulled off her glove. That emerald ring was on her finger.

Before I could speak, Liliana's eyes went wet. Panic flooded her face.

"Oh no—I'm so sorry. I'll return it right now. Please don't be upset."

She slipped it off, and as she handed it to me, her fingers went slack.

Clink!

The emerald hit the floor and cracked in two.

The whole room gasped. That was the Moretti family heirloom!

I felt the blood drain from my face. Stared at the shattered gem on the floor.

Liliana grabbed Marco's sleeve, helpless, tears falling: "I'm so sorry... I..."

She crouched down to pick up the pieces—and sliced her finger on a shard.

A drop of blood bloomed.

I immediately crouched down and reached out toward her—

"Wait!"

Marco grabbed my arm, his touch gentle, just like always, as if he were afraid I might hurt myself.

But I could see nothing but wariness in his eyes.

"Serana, it's just a ring. Don't do anything rash."

My heart gave a sharp, needle-like sting. Was he really that terrified I'd hurt Liliana?

"Cognato, you misunderstood."

I simply twisted my wrist, revealing the band-aid in my palm.

Marco froze, a look of confusion and disbelief crossing his face.

Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I smiled as I pulled my hand back, placing the band-aid into his palm.

"It's... just a ring, Cognato. Hurry and tend to her wound."

Marco anxiously pulled her hand toward him. Still, he didn't use the band-aid; instead, he called for a doctor to examine her.

Then his tone softened. He patted my head, coaxing me like a child:

"Good girl, Serana. Don't be sad. I'll buy you your favorite strawberry cake."

I nodded numbly. Took out a handkerchief and wrapped the broken pieces.

It was my mother's last gift, and the promise ring that sealed our vow.

A wave of sourness stung my nose, and I could barely hold back my tears.

I no longer liked strawberry cake. Just like I no longer loved a certain someone.

Marco saw the grief on my face. He seemed almost surprised that I stayed so quiet that I didn't throw Liliana to the sharks.

This docile, still version of me was a stranger to him. It made him uneasy.

A voice in his head whispered: you're about to lose something precious.

As his eyes swept over my reddened arm, his breath hitched.

Almost instinctively, he offered to walk me back to my room.

But Liliana tugged his sleeve, pleading softly:

"Darling, it hurts so much... Can you stay with me? For the disinfectant?"

He glanced at me. Then nodded.

The butler led me back to my room. 

Finally—silence. The noise of the party faded.

I didn't have to pretend anymore. The tears came, hot and fast.

Thinking about how Cognato looked at Liliana now…

the same way he used to look at me. Another woman was taking that love away.

"Principessa is hurting so much... why not fight harder? The Don adores you. We all know that."

I wiped my tears and shook my head.

"Cancel my identity. Buy me a new one. Book a flight to Italy."

"And don't—don't tell Marco."

The butler nodded. He opened the door—

And found a tall figure standing in the doorway.

Marco stared at me, his voice rough, wrecked:

"Don't tell me... what?"

My heart slammed. I dug my nails into my palms so hard I almost drew blood, just to keep my expression.

Marco strode toward me, towering above, looking down like he was trying to see straight through my eyes.

A chill crept up my spine. I stepped back, putting distance between us, and kept my voice polite, cool and distant:

"It's a surprise. I prepared a wedding gift."

That gift was my departure. Forever.

He must've sensed the distance. His brow furrowed, eyes locked on me, searching.

After a long moment—finding nothing—his voice came low and rough:

"Good. I'm glad you understand. You know I only love you. "

"You're still young. After the wedding, go do whatever you like. What if I send you overseas for your studies?"

I bit my lip. My chest tasted like lemon, sharp and bitter.

Silence stretched. Then I nodded, docile as a lamb:

"Don't worry, Cognato."

Marco went still. His Adam's apple bobbed. He looked like he wanted to say something else.

But a burst of laughter from downstairs cut through the moment.

"Oh my God... that dress... it's torn to shreds!"

"What a bitch. She'll do anything to climb into Don Marco's bed."

"..."

I looked down.

Liliana stood in the middle of the crowd, wearing a nightgown that had been sliced open, barely covering the important bits.

Her face was bone-white, trembling with humiliation.

Then she saw Marco, like a drowning woman spotting a savior.

She threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically.

"The maid brought this dress... said it was a pajama party... that Serana specially picked it for me... said she hoped to see me wear it... so I did..."

Marco shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, covering her bare skin.

Then he looked at me, his brow furrowed tightly, his eyes filled with blatant exhaustion:

"Serana, I've already told you that Liliana won't threaten your position in the future. Why do you still have to resort to such cheap tricks?"

Something tore open in my chest.

I lifted my chin, forced the tears back—but my voice still shook:

"I didn't send that dress. I didn't have anyone deliver that message."

Seeing my scalding tears, Marco's expression faltered. He hesitated, as if wanting to walk toward me.

Just then, Liliana burst into tears. "Did I really come out looking like this? Just to be mocked by everyone?"

Marco’s brow furrowed deeply, his tone turning stern:

"Serana, you've truly gone too far this time. I really have spoiled you rotten."

He had never spoken to me with such severity before.

I froze. Staring at this familiar face, I felt an overwhelming sense of alienation. Suddenly, I couldn't find the words to say.

"Serana, it's my fault. Please don't let this come between you two. This is all my fault."

Draped in Marco's suit jacket, Liliana rushed over to me, weeping as she threw her arms around me to apologize.

I froze, completely at a loss.

Suddenly, Liliana grabbed my hand. Her eyes flashed with blatant smugness as she yanked us both into the pool.

The noise from the shore was instantly cut off. I choked on a massive mouthful of water.

"Help! HE…LP!"

She thrashed wildly in the water.

But I knew how to swim. Fighting the burning in my lungs, I struggled to keep my body steady.

Marco plunged into the pool immediately, swimming toward me instinctively.

I tried to reach out and grab him. Just then, Liliana's voice rang out again: "I can't... swim... She can... Save... me first."

Marco's body froze. Then, he swam toward Liliana. He chose her again. He pulled her into his arms and carried her to the shore.

"Serana, why... why did you push me?"

Liliana asked, coughing violently, her voice laced with sorrow.

I had just dragged myself onto the edge of the pool. My lungs were screaming in agony, and the unhealed wound on my leg had torn open again. The stinging rush of the pool water made the pain unbearable.

"I didn't... It was her! She pulled me in!"

Marco's brow furrowed deeply.

Liliana was crying even louder: "You got an A in swimming. I can't swim at all. Why would I pull you into the water!"

Seeing Marco hesitate, Liliana cried even harder.

In the end, Marco left only one cold command:

"Enough. Take the Principessa back to her room and let her rest."

With that, he scooped Liliana into his arms and strode away.

He used to cherish me exactly like that, cradling me safely in his arms as if I were his precious princess.

My body hadn't fully recovered yet. Dizzy and disoriented, I slowly collapsed to the ground.

The butler panicked, wanting to shout at Marco.

"Wait!"

Fighting through the dizziness, I called out to him. Watching my Cognato hold another woman as he disappeared around the corner.

The heartbreak had long eclipsed everything else. My consciousness began to fade, bit by bit...

My vision blurred...

Ten years. Ten years of his care and protection. I'd pay it all back.

After that, Cognato, we'd be square.

Then the darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, the butler was at my side.

I developed a raging fever.

Seeing me awake, he smiled, pulled off the ice pack, and pressed a file folder into my palm.

"Principessa, it's done. The flight's in ten days. No one knows."

I nodded. I was about to open it when I heard footsteps outside.

I shoved the folder under my pillow fast.

It was Marco.

He leaned in, gently wiping the sweat from my brow.

A wave of warmth washed over me, and tears spilled over involuntarily, soaking into the handkerchief.

"Do you really believe I did it?"

Seeing my scalding tears, Marco seemed to be burned as well. His heart softened, and he coaxed me gently:

"Serana, don't throw a tantrum. I'll divorce her and marry you as my Donna. Trust me."

He sat by my bed, gentle as always, dabbing the sweat off my forehead with a cool cloth.

I remembered ten years ago. After my parents died, Marco was the one who protected me.

Everyone else just wanted the fortune the Moretti name left behind. Only he cared about me.

I was only ten. He knew I wouldn't survive the vultures circling the family.

So he built me a safe little world—ten years without a single worry.

But now, after everything that had happened, he still thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

My heart had ached to the point of total numbness. My voice was hoarse:

"Alright."

I’m leaving anyway.

Seeing my state, a flicker of heartache crossed Marco's eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by Liliana, who had been waiting at the door.

"Darling, we need to go shoot the wedding photos. Serana will be fine. The butler will take good care of her."

Marco nodded.

I looked past him. Liliana was wearing that wedding dress. The one from the last century—the antique gown that once belonged to a princess.

I'd asked Marco to buy it for my eighteenth birthday. Told him I'd wear it when I walked down the aisle to him. Exchanged rings under the lights.

He'd held me close, laughing softly:

"I can't wait to see that, Serana. You'll look beautiful."

Now it belonged to his bride.

But it would never belong to me.

I watched them walk away, so perfect together.

Something hollowed out my chest. I couldn't breathe.

Even though I already knew everything, the grief still hit me hard.

He had promised that no one would ever hurt me again: "Serana, don't be afraid. With me here, no one will bully you."

A sickly flush crept onto my pale cheeks as I whispered:

"Liar... someone is hurting me now..."

Two days later, I could finally get out of bed. Marco visited often in those days—brought in the best surgeons, tended to me like I was made of glass.

He'd always been a good guardian.

Hearing the sound of a car downstairs, I originally didn't want to move.

But thinking that I would never see him again, I decided to go take a look.

I opened the door, only to be met by his dark, brooding gaze. Marco grabbed my arm.

"Serana, did you have someone run Liliana down?"

The blood instantly drained from my face. My heart was bleeding profusely.

But I defiantly lifted my gaze to meet his: “If I tell you it wasn't me, would you believe me?”

His expression softened slightly.

Turning to Liliana behind him, he said, "See? She said she didn't do it."

"Although Serana has been spoiled, she knows her boundaries. She wouldn't murder you."

"I believe Serana, of course, but..."

Liliana stepped up to me and pulled out her phone.

Unfamiliar voices spilled from the speaker, testifying that I had hired them to assassinate Liliana.

Hearing the recording, a chill crawled up my spine from the soles of my feet.

"The Associates confessed immediately. The voice on the phone was hers. They even provided bank transfer records."

"But I won't blame her. Thanks to you arriving in time, she only hurt her ankle. Just teach her a lesson so she learns to behave."

Marco's face darkened instantly, his voice turning to ice:

"Serana, this time you've truly gone too far."

"Darling, she just lacks a sense of security. I understand..."

"It's all my fault. If I had listened when Serana warned me not to attend the engagement party..."

It felt like I'd been struck over the head with a club. The world spun dizzily.

Once again, he was condemning me without seeking the truth. The rage I had been suppressing deep inside was completely ignited.

I lifted my chin, my voice dripping with sarcasm:

"If it were me, you know damn well, Cognato, she would've already been stripped naked and thrown into the sea to feed the fishes."

"I didn't do it, and that's a fact. I've already publicly accepted her as our Donna. What more do you want from me?"

I was shaking with fury, barely able to stand.

Liliana immediately stepped between us, supporting my body as tears streamed down her face:

"It's all my fault. My parents died to save you back then. Their only wish was for me to live in peace."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have been here."

Her tone was soft and pitiful, yet it successfully provoked Marco's wrath.

As expected, Marco's face darkened, his voice turning to ice:

"Liliana has been hurt by you so many times, yet she remains kind enough not to blame you. But you..."

"Serana, apologize to Lili."

"Impossible!” I fixed my gaze squarely on Marco, my voice firm. “I will never apologize for something I didn't do."

Liliana continued, sobbing: "It doesn't matter if she hurts me out of ignorance. But if she acts like this toward outsiders in the future, can you protect her forever? She needs to learn a lesson."

Marco fell silent, his expression turned grave. Finally, he nodded wearily.

"You're right. She needs to be taught a lesson so she learns to behave."

As Liliana spoke, she pulled out an object.

Seeing it, my pupils instantly contracted. My heart leaped into my throat.

"No..."

It was the family portrait of Mom, Dad, and me. I used to take it out and look at it all the time; it was my only spiritual anchor. How could he allow this...

"Burn it."

Liliana took the photograph, smiling softly as she spoke, shattering my heart into a million pieces.

My breath hitched, watching in horror as that tiny photograph dangled from her fingertips.

I desperate to snatch the photo back.

"No... please, don't. I'll apologize."

But Marco grabbed me from behind, pinning me against his chest, leaving me completely immobilized.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm guilty... please, don't..."

I was suddenly back there, standing at my parents' graves. Everyone was looking at me as if I were nothing but a piece of goods to be claimed.

Despair and terror made me lose my mind. I screamed, sobbing until my throat tore:

I watched Liliana hold the photograph, bringing it closer to the flames in the fireplace.

"NO——"