That night, the master bedroom door was locked.

Vicenzo stood outside holding a pillow, his face arranged into a show of reluctant concern.

“Eva, the smell of medicine on you is too strong. Luca can’t sleep with it.”

He pointed toward the guest room piled high with storage boxes. “Stay there tonight. Don’t make this difficult.”

I looked at the man who had shared my bed for seven years.

There wasn’t a single word of concern in his eyes, only disgust.

Without saying anything, I turned and walked into the room with no heating.

In the middle of the night, I heard Elena’s coy laughter drifting from the master bedroom next door, mixed with Luca’s excited shouts.

They were playing horse and rider, laughing together, as if they were the family of three.

I leaned against the cold wall, pulled out the dagger I had long hidden in my boot, then slid it back in.

Not yet.

I’d wait until the moment they were most proud of everything they had and then watch it collapse.

Early the next morning, Vicenzo got up before dawn, a rare occurrence.

He took off the old jacket, washed pale from wear, and put on a sharply tailored dark suit.

It was a custom piece from one of Nafles’ top tailors, with subtle embroidery at the cuffs.

When I had asked where he got it, he told me it was an old suit discarded by the library owner.

Now it was clear that this was the attire of the second-in-command of the Carlini family.

“Eva, go change,” Vicenzo urged impatiently. “Today we’re taking you to apologize to Mr. Mario.”

Luca wore the formal outfit Elena had bought him, looking like a proud little prince.

As he passed me, he pinched his nose and made a face.

“You stink. Stay away from us.”

I said nothing. I simply pulled on my wrinkled trench coat and covered the bandages on my arm.

Elena linked her arm through Vicenzo’s and shot me a provocative glance.

The car sped all the way to a heavily guarded estate. This was one of the Carlini family’s strongholds.

Two broad-shouldered soldati stood at the entrance.

When they saw us step out, one of them gave a cold glance and urged impatiently, “Go in. They’re all waiting.”

The display of force seemed to rattle Vicenzo. His body trembled almost imperceptibly, and he instinctively tightened his grip around my wrist.

“Eva, don’t be afraid. Just apologize properly, and it’ll be fine…” His voice shook, as though he were convincing himself, and he pulled me quickly toward the doors.

Elena followed with Luca in hand, her face openly eager for a spectacle.

Inside, the hall was lavish and glittering, with two rows of soldati standing solemnly on either side.

Mario, whom I had injured the night before, now sat boldly on a leather sofa in the center.

An arrogant smile twisted across his face, and when he saw us enter, he even crossed his legs in exaggerated confidence.

Vicenzo suddenly stopped walking and turned to face me.

The usual cowardice in his eyes was gone. All that remained was a cold command.

“Eva, kneel.”

I lifted my head and looked at him calmly.

Vicenzo pointed at Mario, who was lounging on the sofa.

“Yesterday, you injured Mr. Mario. That’s a capital offense.

“But I couldn’t bear to see you die, so I begged for a long time on your behalf.”

He stepped behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders.

“Get down on your knees, lick Mr. Mario’s shoes clean, and he might spare your life.”

Mario swung his leg smugly and grabbed a handful of nuts from the table, tossing them at my feet.

“Kneel, b*tch. Weren’t you impressive last night?”

Elena covered her mouth and laughed softly, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“Eva, don’t be ungrateful. Vicenzo went to great lengths to protect you.”

Luca stuffed delicate pastries into his mouth and mumbled through them, “Hurry up and kneel. If you don’t, I’ll tell Dad to throw you out!”

At six years old, he was already capable of the cruelest words.

This was the son I had nearly died to save.

Vicenzo’s grip tightened, fingers digging into my injured shoulder.

A wave of sharp pain shot through me, and fresh blood quickly soaked through the bandages.

He was forcing me to submit, savoring the thrill of breaking something wild.

“Eva, be good.”

His voice brushed against my ear, cold and low.

“For this family, what’s wrong with sacrificing a little pride?

“Or do you want to watch Luca die because of you?”

I felt the bone in my shoulder grind under the pressure.

If I were still the Eva who lived only for her family, I would already have knelt for my son.

However, the woman standing here now was the principessa of the Moretti family, who had already died once.

I drew in a slow breath, then drove my shoulder backward, instantly knocking Vicenzo’s hands away.

In the same motion, I spun around, snatched the pistol from the nearest soldato’s waist, and with a crisp click, chambered a round.

“Bang!”

The shot struck the floor in front of Mario’s feet, sparks bursting upward.

Mario shrieked and rolled off the sofa in terror.

“Tell Stefano to come see me.”

“She’s insane! She’s completely insane!”

Vicenzo’s face turned ashen as he roared at me. “You dare call Don Carlini by his name? You dare fire a gun in here?”

Elena screamed as well. “You crazy b*tch! If you want to die, don’t drag us down with you!”

Mario pointed at me and shouted at the soldati, “Kill her! She’s trying to assassinate Don Carlini!”

Just as the soldati raised their guns and aimed at me…

A cold, commanding voice came from upstairs.

“I’d like to see who dares.”

I lifted my head, my gaze cutting past the armed men and fixing on the carved railing of the second floor.

A tall figure stood there.

He wore a black shirt, collar slightly open.

It was the don of the Carlini family.

And once, my fiancé.

Vicenzo rushed toward me, reaching for my hair. “You crazy woman! Do you have a death wish?”

I laughed.

The sound echoed through the hall, with slight bitterness, edged with ridicule.

Then I looked up at the man above and spoke softly.

“Stefano, long time no see.”