On Christmas night, I've roasted a whole turkey and paired it with the finest red wine. Then, I quietly wait for my boyfriend, Don Carlo Carlione from the Carlione family, to come home to me.

When Carlo steps through the front door, he doesn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he throws his blood-stained coat onto the couch and starts undoing his cufflinks.

"Something important is going on at the family HQ tonight, so I can't celebrate Christmas with you tonight."

He sounds very casual, as though he's talking about the weather.

I don't respond to him at all. Instead, I just slice my turkey quietly.

Later on at 1:00 am, Carlo's ex-girlfriend, Lucia Caruso, uploads a social media post right on time.

In the photo, she can be seen resting her head against Carlo's shoulder. The background shows a night sky filled with fireworks overcasting a grand bridge.

The caption reads, "He told me he can always keep me company as long as I say the word."

I don't hurl my phone in a fit of anger, nor do I call Carlo to demand for answers hysterically. Instead, I just leave a like on the post.

30 seconds later, Carlo calls me. For once, his voice is tinged with a hint of alarm.

"This is just a misunderstanding! I'll definitely celebrate next Christmas with you!"

I just shake my head with a soft sigh. "It's a shame that there's no next Christmas for us ever again."

When Carlo Carlione came back, Christmas was already three days behind us.

In the past, I would always wait at the manor gate for him, wearing my best dress and carefully applied makeup, even if the winter wind turned my lips blue. This time, I did nothing of the sort.

Carlo texted, "Where are you?"

I was eating lunch. I casually replied, "I'm at home, having lunch."

Just as I set down my fork, Carlo stepped through the door. Travel had worn him down, and snow clung to the hem of his coat.

Carlo said, "I haven't eaten yet. Make me the pasta I like."

In the past, I would have dropped everything to fry a steak or cook pasta, spending ten minutes just on the plating. But now, I simply answered, "We have a chef at home. Ask them to make it."

Carlo frowned but held his temper. "I know you're still upset about Christmas, but don't take it out on me. I haven't slept in three days."

I dried my hands and said, "I'm not angry."

He gave me a skeptical look. "Lucia is alone in that city. I had to see her, no matter what."

I nodded. "I understand."

He stared into my eyes, as if trying to see right through me.

When I stayed calm and unmoved, the tension in his face finally gave way to exhaustion. "You're really wearing me down. Can you just stop?"

I held his gaze evenly. "Carlo, I'm not upset. You don't need to explain."

After a long silence, he reached into his coat and produced a small velvet box, setting it in front of me. "Christmas gift."

The box was scuffed and worn, as though it had been carelessly stuffed into a pocket. It stood in stark contrast to the flawless wrapping and velvet bow Lucia had flaunted online.

I didn't open it. I just said, "Thank you."

A flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. "That's all?"

I nodded. "Yes."

His expression darkened. He held out his hand. "What about mine?"

I hesitated, then said apologetically, "I forgot. I'll write you a check. You can buy it yourself."

I pulled a checkbook from my bag and scribbled a number casually.

Carlo's pupils narrowed slightly. He was the Don of the Carlione family and far from short on money, but he hadn't expected me to actually forget. Every Christmas, we exchanged gifts without fail, and I had never skipped it. Even if he sometimes forgot, I would always prepare his gift in advance.

An uneasy quiet settled between us.

I grabbed the coat from the couch and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Carlo called after me.

"To a friend's party," I said, closing the door behind me without looking back.

Since being with Carlo, I had stopped attending parties altogether, just because he once said he hoped I would remain pure, loyal, and gentle.

My friends noticed I had changed, and before long, they stopped inviting me to parties. They all knew I obeyed my boyfriend, the Don of the Carlione family. Now, I could finally go to a party with friends again.

As the night was coming to a close, a friend tapped me on the shoulder. "I thought you'd forget about us once you got a boyfriend. Don't let that happen again."

I chuckled and nodded. "No way. Just tell me when the next get-together is, and I'll be there."

Over the years with Carlo, my life had revolved entirely around him. I handled his business, his family, and even his daily meals. My own friends and social circle had slowly faded away. In hindsight, it all seemed almost foolish.

I walked in around 2:00 am. As I switched on the light, I froze. Carlo was sitting on the couch, and for a brief second, I wondered if I was imagining him.

He looked at me, taking in my drunken state, but made no move to help.

His expression was full of contempt. "Anna, can you try to act sensibly? If you're jealous, just say it. You're only making me look down on you by drinking like this."

Feeling lightheaded, I clutched the dining table for support and eased myself into a seat.

Carlo sniffed the air and frowned deeply. "I told you I don't like it when you drink. Lucia and I aren't what you think—we're just old friends. There's no reason for you to get yourself like this over her."

I rubbed my temples and murmured through a haze, "You're imagining things. I'm drunk because I'm happy."

Carlo snapped, "Enough! I'm giving you a way out. Take it, and don't test my patience. I'm busy. I can't always accommodate you."

I lifted my head, feeling the alcohol twist in my stomach. I forced a smile. "Accommodate me? Carlo, when have you ever done that?"

My voice was light, roughened by alcohol. "You said you didn't like bright dresses, so I wore only black, white, and gray. You said I shouldn't see male friends, so I cut them off. You wanted me at home taking care of you, so I skipped countless parties. Is that your idea of accommodating me?"

Carlo's face darkened with every word. He stood abruptly, looming over me with a pressure that made my chest tighten. "I'm doing this for your own good! A woman of the Carlione family must follow the Carlione family rules!"

I scoffed. "Rules?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I choked out, "Do your rules include a clause that says a boyfriend can ditch his girlfriend on Christmas to watch fireworks with another woman? Or one that lets an ex flaunt herself on social media while the current girlfriend is stuck at home, picking at a cold turkey?"

"Enough!" Carlo roared.

He reached for me, but I instinctively dodged.

My head throbbed. I didn't want to fight. I rubbed my temples and said, "Calm down. I'm going to bed."

Carlo exhaled sharply, struggling to rein in his anger as he stood. I staggered toward the guest room and locked the door behind me, ignoring his knocks. That night, I slept more soundly than I had in months.

In the morning, Carlo sat in the living room, silently drinking coffee. His face was dark with fury, but I didn't bother trying to calm him. After washing up, I left the house without a word.

I went to the office and handed in my resignation.

I had chosen this job in the first place because it was close to Carlo's family. I thought that once we got married, it would make it easier for me to look after them. Now, that reason no longer mattered. My boss tried several times to persuade me to stay, but I was firm in my decision to leave.

A few days ago, one of the applications I had sent out finally received a response. It was from a company in Porta Nova, a place that had once been my dream destination when I graduated.

Back then, I had given up that opportunity for Carlo. Thankfully, it was not too late now.

After resigning, I was busy handing over my work. The first thing I did was call my friend to share the news.

She was happy for me. After a brief silence, she asked, "What about Don Carlione? Is he going to Porta Nova with you?"

I let out a bitter smile. "No. It's just me. We're breaking up."

My parents passed away long ago. Aside from a few friends in Astonia, Carlo was all I had left.

I used to think that wherever Carlo was, that was where my home would be. But now, I had no home at all. I felt like dandelions, settling wherever the wind took me.

When I got home, Carlo was about to head out. His hair was neatly styled, and he was dressed in a tailored suit. I could catch a faint trace of the cologne I had given him. In his arms, he held a bouquet of vibrant roses.

I knew it was Lucia's birthday.

He was on the phone, and I could tell he was in a good mood. "Stop guessing. If I tell you, it won't be a surprise anymore. Just wait for me."

I leaned against the wall by the entryway and watched as he talked on the phone while changing his shoes. The smile on his lips was so gentle it seemed like it could melt.

It was an expression I had never seen before. Not even on my birthday had he ever looked at me like that.

Lucia must have said something playful, because he let out a low laugh. Even the faint lines at the corners of his eyes carried a trace of indulgent affection.

He had always indulged Lucia without hesitation, yet he was so stingy with me that he could not even spare a single smile.

"Yeah, I'll be there soon," he said.

He hung up, and only when he turned around did he notice me. The smile on his face faded instantly, returning to the usual distant indifference.

He glanced at me without asking where I had been or when I had come back, as if I were nothing more than an insignificant piece of furniture in the house.

"I'm heading out," he said flatly, as if it were just a formality.

"Okay," I replied softly.

My gaze landed on the roses in his arms.

The flowers were in full bloom, and their deep red petals burned like flames.

All of a sudden, I realized that in all the years we had been together, Carlo had never once given me roses. He used to say they were too cliché and not suitable for a woman of the Carlione family. Yet now, he was willing to give those same "cliché" roses to another woman.

After changing his shoes, he walked straight toward the door. As he passed by me, a faint breeze followed in his wake, carrying the sweet scent of roses mixed with his cologne.

It used to be a scent I loved. Now, it only felt suffocating.

"Carlo," I called out just as he was about to open the door.

He stopped but didn't turn around. "What is it?" he asked coolly.

"Nothing," I said, looking at his straight back.

My voice was so calm that even I was surprised. "Have fun."

He seemed to pause for a moment, probably not expecting that response. After a brief hesitation, he opened the door and walked out without another word.

The door clicked shut, cutting off two separate worlds.

I slowly slid down onto the cold floor, staring at the empty living room. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting scattered shadows across the floor, but it did nothing to chase away the chill in my chest.

The Christmas gift box he had given me still sat quietly on the table. The worn edges were especially noticeable in the sunlight.

In the end, I couldn't hold back. I reached out, picked up the box, and opened it.

Inside was a necklace. The design was simple, even a little outdated. A small diamond pendant caught the light, giving off a faint sparkle.

I recognized it. Back when we first started dating, I had lingered over this very style in a shop window. At the time, he had said he would buy it for me on our first anniversary. But we had been together for three years.

This necklace, which arrived two years late, came into my life in such a careless way that it felt like a belated joke.

I placed it back into the box and closed the lid.

In the past, every argument between Carlo and me had been because of Lucia Caruso. He liked to give me the silent treatment. Back then, I would treat it like a crisis, doing everything I could to appease him. Even when he ignored my messages, I would still keep reaching out, trying to win him over.

But now, I simply picked up my phone and started searching for rental listings in Porta Nova.

I needed to start getting used to this.