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——"

Liliana smiled as she watched the photograph slip into the fireplace. The sweet smiles of our family of three were devoured by the flames in the blink of an eye.

"NO—"

I lunged into the fireplace, my fingers reaching through the flames to snatch the photo.

Most of it was already charred black. My parents' faces were obscured by soot, leaving only faint outlines.

Seeing the charred photograph in my hand, He rubbed his brow wearily. He said softly,

He caught my hand and slid a ring onto my ring finger. It was the very ring that had been broken.

"Dear, this’s the price you must pay for hurting Liliana."

“I've had it repaired this ring. We will have a magnificent wedding, and with this ring, we will vow our love to each other. You will be my Donna.”

His warm breath brushed against my skin, yet I felt as if I had been thrown into an icehouse.

I could only nod blankly.

I collapsed to my knees, staring blankly at the fire with swollen, red eyes.

Seeing my silence, the hand resting on my head stiffened. After a long silence, he finally said:

"Good that you know your mistake. Go back to your room, rest early."

Then he turned. Walked away. His steps were... unsteady.

I wiped my tears and walked back to my room.

I’m leaving anyway. There was no need to keep those things anymore.

I dragged out everything Marco had ever given me—every gift, every trinket.

Stuffed animals from shopping trips. Jewelry worth a king's ransom.

I threw them all into the fire.

The butler wept in the corner. He didn't stop me.

When I was done, I collapsed onto the bed. Exhaustion swallowed me whole.

I slept.

The next few days, Marco didn't come back.

But I knew exactly where he was. Liliana's social media told me everything.

He was at the hospital taking care of Liliana. He sent me a message, saying he needed to tend to her injuries and wouldn't be coming home for a while.

He would feed her, cut fruit for her...

Things he used to do only for me.

Watching those updates, my heart was already a wasteland of numbness.

The day before I left, I heard a commotion downstairs.

I walked out of my room.

Liliana was directing workers to haul furniture in.

She spotted me and waved—beaming.

"Serana! The wedding's tomorrow, so I'm moving in today. If you need anything at all—anything—just tell me. I'll make sure you have it."

I frowned. Not even married, and already playing Donna.

"Serana, my health hasn't fully recovered. I need a large, well-ventilated room. Could I stay in yours until after the wedding?"

Liliana winked at me.

She was trying to push my buttons. Get me to lose it so Marco would punish me again.

I just smiled. Calm. Quiet.

"Sure. The room already cleaned out anyway. She can move right in."

Marco stood in amazement. Caught off guard.

Something flickered behind his eyes.

I chose the smallest, most hidden room in the manor.

That night, Marco came to find me.

He looked at the cramped, dim space—and something like guilt crept into his voice:

"This is only temporary. Your parents left you other properties. You can stay there for a few days."

Now he's kicking me out too?

I thought about it, but my expression remained completely unchanged.

"Serana... don't misunderstand. I do love you. I just need you to get along with Liliana..."

"Fine."

I cut him off. Didn't want to hear another word.

The next morning, the manor woke early to prepare for the wedding.

No one paid me any attention.

When the sun hit its peak, Liliana walked down the aisle in front of everyone.

Marco looked at the woman before him—and remembered.

That wedding dress. The same one I'd worn that night at eighteen. When I told him I'd walk down the aisle to him.

His eyes swept the crowd, searching—

Nowhere.

He couldn't find me.

A cold knot tightened in his chest.

Where is she?

I watched the ground grow distant. The buildings shrink.

My old identity was already ashes.

Goodbye, Marco.

I looked at my new documents—new name, new life.

And smiled.

Italy. My mother's homeland. I'm coming.