“Be a good girl, Bianca.”

Luca’s hand slid through my hair, his voice impossibly gentle.

“You haven’t eaten all day, have you? I’ll ask the chef to make your favourite creamy seafood pasta.”

“Get some rest. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Then he left as though nothing had happened. His footsteps echoed in the silence.

I had nothing to do but return to packing my suitcase.

Just as I reached the doorway, an angry voice drifted from the study—sharp, furious.

Luca’s.

“Signor Moretti. Marco. Why didn’t you tell Bianca her wedding was cancelled?” His voice crackled with restrained anger.

“I don’t want Bianca to be humiliated in front of anyone ever again.”

“This is the last time. If you treat her like that again, you’ll gonna regret.”

A tense silence followed.

“Don, we were only thinking of Valentina,” Marco sighed.

“She doesn’t have long left. We just wanted her to have her wish.”

“I know,” Luca replied, his voice softening.

“That’s why I agreed to the ceremony. But Bianca is innocent. You don’t get to hurt her.”

Another pause.

“Try to do it again,” he warned quietly, “and I won’t forgive it.”

My heart tightened.

My suitcase slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor.

So, this wedding—

the wedding I poured my heart into—

had been nothing but a lie.

Never meant for me at all.

I covered my mouth to stifle a sob, but the tears came anyway.

“Don, Mr. Rossi is outside,” a servant said.

“I’ll be right there.”

Luca’s footsteps moved toward the door.

“Take care of Bianca,” he told my father and brother before leaving. Their steps faded soon after.

After a while, I wiped my face, steadied my breathing, and lifted my suitcase again.

But the moment I stepped into the living room, a voice froze me in place.

Valentina.

She was laughing.

Laughing as she spoke into her phone.

“I’m not dying. The medical report was fake.”

“I just don’t want to see her happy. I’ll take everything from her—her father, her brother, her fiancé.”

“And Luca will never know the truth. It was Bianca who saved his life, not me.”

“A shame, really. He’ll never know.”

She lifted her head and finally saw me.

Her expression flickered. Shock, then delight, then defiance.

“So… you heard.”

I staggered back, my hands trembling.

“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why do you hate me so much? Dad and Marco always adored you!”

“They remembered your birthday. They knew your favourite foods. When we were both sick, they rushed you to the hospital, not me!”

“You already have everything! Why take Luca too?”

She tilted her head and sneered.

“Because I want everything from you.”

“Didn’t you know?”

“When you were born, Dad and Marco loved you. Too much. They swore you’d be their little princess.”

“I didn’t allow it.” Her eyes glittered with madness.

“I’m the princess of this family. You were a threat.”

“So I pulled out Mom’s oxygen tube after her surgery.”

“I made them think she died because of you.”

My knees nearly buckled.

“What…?”

“You… you killed Mom?”

“She was innocent!”

“So?” Valentina shrugged.

“And I’ll take the rest of your life too.”

“Today’s wedding is only the beginning.”

“I’ll show you what real despair tastes like.”

“You’re a monster,” I whispered, shaking.

“You think this will bring you happiness? It’s not love.”

She laughed.

“Who cares? As long as you suffer.”

I inhaled sharply, forcing my voice steady.

“I’ll tell them. Dad and Marco. I’ll tell them exactly who you are.”

She smirked.

“You think they’d believe you?”

“To them, I’m the sweet, innocent daughter.”

“And you?”

“You’re the cursed one. The one who ‘killed’ Mom. The one no one wants.”

“You—!”

I grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the hallway.

“They’ll know the truth. They need to hear this.”

Suddenly she screamed.

“Ah! Bianca! Why are you pushing me?!”

Then, with a vicious shove, she sent me backward—toward the staircase.

My foot slipped.

“Bianca!”

Her fake scream echoed through the house as she threw herself down after me, pretending to fall unconscious.

The last thing I heard was the sickening thud when my head hit the floor.

A vase crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces that sliced across my arms and legs.

Dad, Marco, and Luca all rushed in at the sound.

“Valentina!”

Marco dropped to his knees and wrapped her in his arms, panic carved into his face.

Dad turned on me and slapped me hard, his voice booming through the room.

“Bianca! What the hell are you doing? Why did you hurt Valentina?!”

“You made your mother die, and now you’re trying to hurt your own sister… and her baby?”

My head spun, my ears ringing from the blow.

“Yes, your wedding was cancelled, but it was Valentina’s dying wish! Why did you have to be so jealous you tried to kill her?”

“How can you be so selfish?”

I covered my face, tears streaming as I tried to speak.

“Dad, it wasn’t me! She fell on her own!”

“She pushed me down the stairs too! Look at me—I’m hurt just like her…”

My voice broke.

“She’s been lying this whole time! She’s not even sick—”

Dad and Marco fell silent, glancing at the collapsed Valentina.

For a brief second, I thought they might believe me.

Then Dad exploded. “Enough with the excuses!”

He kicked me hard, sending me stumbling backward.

“You used to be spoiled and reckless, but at least you were honest. Now you’ll lie about anything to avoid responsibility!”

“Valentina is such a kind girl. She would never push you! Anyone can see you threw yourself down the stairs to get sympathy!”

Hearing them defend her so fiercely, I cried—and laughed—at the same time.

I’d always known they loved her, not me.

So why did I even bother explaining?

Why did it still hurt?

“Get up and apologize to your sister!” Dad barked, kicking me again.

The world tilted. Darkness swallowed me.

When I woke up, my wounds had been bandaged.

Luca was sitting beside the bed.

“Bianca? … Here, drink some water.”

He handed me a glass and gently brushed my cheek.

His voice was soft, painfully familiar.

He had always been there whenever Dad or Marco scolded me.

But now… that tenderness felt like a lie.

“Luca… do you believe that it was me pushed Valentina?” I asked, my voice hoarse, my eyes empty.

He hesitated. Then slowly:

“Bianca, I know you didn’t mean to. You were just too upset.”

“When Valentina wakes up, apologize to her. Then all of this will be behind us.”

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh and said nothing.

He tried to speak again, but when he saw me close my eyes, he only sighed and left.

When I woke again, the room was empty.

Of course.

He must have gone to the hospital to take care of Valentina.

“If no one wants me here… then I’ll leave.”

I stared at the ceiling as I whispered to myself.

After making the decision, I got up and grabbed my suitcase.

Just as I reached the door, my phone buzzed.

A message from Valentina.

“Did you see? I’m the one Luca really loves.”

“Someone like you—someone even your own family hates—doesn’t deserve love.”

Attached was a picture.

Luca was peeling an apple, his expression gentle and focused.

Valentina sat beside him, smiling like she owned the world.

I let out a bitter laugh and shut off my phone.

At the airport, before boarding, I pulled up the home’s security footage.

I sent Dad and Marco the video—

Valentina admitting she caused Mom’s death,

and the footage of her pushing me down the stairs.

After that, I threw my phone away and boarded the plane.

Dad. Marco.

And… Luca.

Goodbye.