Elvira Corleone was the precious daughter of the Corleone family, a breathtaking beauty well-known in their inner circle. Whoever dared provoke her either ended up submitting to her or as a body at the bottom of Bayton Harbor.

One day, her best friend, Lilian Allen, made a daring bet. "Vira, make my brother fall for you, and I'll give you the power of judgment over Bayton Harbor's underground scene."

Elvira grinned, bold and confident. She pressed the cigar out in the ashtray. "Lilian, you know I've never failed to get what I want."

Yet, plans never worked out the way one would expect.

The very day they made that bet, Elvira followed a lead from her informant and headed to a hidden warehouse at Bayton Harbor. It was a secret base belonging to the Allen family and the place where Vincent Allen handled his business.

She had planned to stage a "coincidental encounter," but she never expected to push open the door and see Vincent burning with fever. He was completely disoriented and clearly drugged.

The scent of a powerful sedative filled the air.

Two bodyguards lay unconscious on the ground, and a Lucero family emblem was left behind in the corner.

Obviously, a rival family had planned to abduct Vincent and use him to threaten the Allens.

Elvira's pupils constricted. She moved to step back out and call for help, but he suddenly grabbed her wrist. His skin was burning hot, and the calm in his deep eyes had vanished.

What remained was pure, primal desire.

"Help me..."

His voice was low and hoarse, with a hint of vulnerability that was hard to ignore.

Elvira's heart skipped a beat. She knew this was the perfect chance to get close to him.

…

That night, desire twisted through the warehouse's shadows as Elvira became Vincent's antidote. From then on, their relationship grew wildly in the dark over the next three years.

In the hidden chamber of Vincent's office, inside a private jet's storage cabin, in the prep room of an underground boxing ring, every secret corner controlled by the Allen family held traces of their entanglement.

Elvira thought she had already melted this cold, unfeeling man. That was until the day she stood outside a private room during a secret family gathering and heard the conversation that destroyed her.

She had found Vincent's obsidian cufflink, a symbol belonging only to the Allen family's inner circle. She planned to return it, but before she could knock, the voices inside drifted out.

"Vincent, Elvira's completely devoted to you. When are you planning to make her your wife?"

The person teasing him was one of Vincent's closest friends.

Elvira's heart clenched. Her fingers turned pale from the strain.

The next moment, Vincent's cool voice rang out, light and careless, yet every word was ice-cold. "She's just a sexual partner. Why would I marry her?"

Silence fell inside the room.

"But it's been three years... Do you still have feelings for her?" someone asked cautiously.

"Yeah."

Vincent's tone was faint, but laced with unmistakable longing. "When we broke up back then, she told me to give her three years. She said she'd try to be with other people, and I should do the same. Now, three years are up. She should be back by now."

Elvira felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. Her body went cold.

These three years of passion, every moment she thought they were connected, were just him "trying to be with someone else".

She couldn't hold back anymore, and she shoved the door open.

Everyone fell silent, all eyes turning toward her.

Elvira's face was as white as paper, her gaze pinned on Vincent sitting in the main seat.

He looked calm, as if her presence meant nothing at all. That cold indifference hurt more than any cruel insult. If he liked her even a little, he wouldn't be looking at her like this now.

"Vincent, don't you have anything to say to me?" Her voice was hoarse, choked with emotion.

Vincent lifted his eyes, meeting hers with a cool stare. "There's nothing to explain. It's exactly what you heard. We're just sexual partners. I always thought you understood that."

He paused, pulled a black card from his suit pocket, and pushed it toward her. "Here's ten million dollars. Consider it payment for three years of being available whenever I needed you. From now on, we're even."

Vincent rose, preparing to walk out.

Elvira lunged forward, gripping his wrist so tightly her fingertips dug into his skin. "But... I've fallen for you!"

She remembered the countless nights when he came home after business dinners. He smelled like alcohol but still pulled her into his arms because he knew she was afraid of thunder.

She also remembered waking up wounded from a gunshot, and the first face she saw was his. He had been waiting by her hospital bed with dark circles under his eyes.

She also remembered him crouching down, holding her cold ankle in his warm palm as he helped her into her shoes.

Those tiny moments surged like a tidal wave and threatened to drown her.

Vincent's lips parted. He was just about to speak when his phone suddenly chimed. The screen lit up, and the notification preview was clearly visible to Elvira.

"Vincent, it's been three years. I tried, but you're still the one I like. Let's get back together."

In that instant, Elvira's world shattered completely.

Vincent stared at the screen for a moment, then pried her fingers off one by one. His tone was detached. "Sorry, but you were just a sexual partner."

He turned and left without a shred of hesitation, leaving Elvira behind as she drowned in agony.

Elvira didn't remember how she even got out of the club. The chilly wind at night caused the tear tracks on her face to freeze. She flagged down a taxi and rasped to the driver, "Follow that Maybach."

She needed to see for herself who that woman was—the one Vincent had been thinking about for three years and the one to whom she had lost so completely.

The driver, an Associate of the Corleone family, saw the state Elvira was in and said nothing, hitting the gas to keep up.

Vincent drove fast, much faster than usual. Clearly, he couldn't wait to see that person.

His car finally stopped at the VIP entrance of Kressida Airport. The Allen family had controlled this place for years. It served as a hub for welcoming international partners and a discreet cover for transferring certain "cargo".

Security disguised as travelers was stationed everywhere.

Elvira paid, stumbled out, and hid behind a pillar, her heart pounding out of control. She watched Vincent hurry to the exit, his gaze full of a warmth she had never seen from him.

…

A moment later, a woman in a white dress with a delicate, gentle presence walked out, dragging her suitcase behind her.

It was Elena Corleone.

Elvira froze, feeling her blood turn to ice. That woman was her half-sister, the person she hated most in the world.

Back then, Elvira's mother died in a car crash engineered by the Lucero family while protecting her father, Antonio Corleone, the Don of the Corleone family.

Yet, shortly after her mother's death, Antonio brought his first love, Camilla Scorsese, and his illegitimate daughter Elena back home, using her mother's wedding gift and inheritance to build a comfortable life for them.

Elvira knew better than anyone that Antonio only secured his position as the Don thanks to her mother's family connections and resources.

Now, he was repaying that by protecting his mistress and his bastard.

As for Vincent, he could've fallen for anyone. Why did it have to be Elena?

Elena threw herself into Vincent's arms. He caught her firmly, leaning down to kiss her hair. That scene cut through Elvira's chest like a dull blade, over and over.

Vincent took her suitcase and wrapped his arm around her waist as they headed for the parking garage. Elvira, like someone possessed, grabbed another taxi and continued following.

The distance was close enough that she clearly saw him tilt his head and whisper to Elena, then reach up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

That kind of tender attention was something she never once received in three entire years.

It felt like her heart was being crushed under a tire, painfully grinding again and again until she couldn't breathe.

Her tears blurred her vision, and she kept her eyes locked on the car ahead. She didn't notice the situation at the intersection ahead.

A loud crash exploded.

The cab slammed straight into the rear bumper of the car in front, and another car smashed into them from behind. The impact sent her head forward, smashing against the seatback. Warm liquid spilled instantly down Elvira's face, blurring her vision.

Through the chaos and the cracked window, she saw Vincent's Maybach stop. He got out first, then rushed to the passenger side, and carefully lifted Elena out of the car.

His brows were furrowed tight, his face full of worry as he checked her injuries.

Elena only had a small scrape on her skin, but she clung to him weakly. "Vincent, I'm okay. Don't worry about me..."

Vincent held her close and started to walk away. His steps paused when his eyes accidentally met Elvira's from the crushed back seat of the cab.

A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly disappearing.

"What is it?"

Elena noticed his hesitation and followed his gaze. A cruel glint flashed in her eyes. "Ah, you saw your lover. Don't worry about me. I can get myself to the hospital..."

She tried to push herself up.

Vincent stayed quiet for a few seconds, then looked away and tightened his hold around Elena. "She's not my lover. She's a stalker!"

With that, he turned and left with Elena in his arms, his back gradually disappearing from Elvira's view as her world collapsed all over again.

For the past three years, she was nothing more than a stalker to him.

When Elvira woke up again, she was in a private hospital owned by the Allen family. Sunlight stabbed at her eyes. There was an IV line in her hand, and every wound on her body ached faintly.

"Ms. Elvira, you're finally awake."

A nurse adjusted the IV for her while speaking with concern. "You're badly injured and need to stay for observation. Your medical bills have already been taken care of."

Elvira stared blankly at the ceiling, silent. She didn't need to guess who paid.

Just then, a deep voice came from the door—one that was achingly familiar. "I came to check on you."

Elvira turned sharply and saw Vincent standing in the doorway in his suit, looking tall and composed. There was no expression on his face. He merely glanced at her bandaged wounds.

Then, he reached out, as if to touch her forehead.

"You didn't fall for me, so why bother visiting a stalker?" Elvira turned from him, her tone sharp with mockery.

Vincent halted, withdrawing his hand. "If I don't come, who else will care about you?"

His words struck a nerve.

He was right. Besides a dead mother, a biased father, and a pretentious stepmother, Elvira had no one else in her corner. That house stopped being her home long ago.

These three years, it was always Vincent who appeared when she needed someone. She got used to relying on him and fooled herself into thinking she had found a safe harbor, yet he ended up pushing her into the abyss.

"Even if no one comes, I don't need you." Elvira drew a deep breath, holding on to the last bit of her pride. "You're the one who said we were done. I'm not pathetic enough to cling to you."

Her tone deliberately took on a cutting edge. "Did you think I meant it when I said I fell in love? I was just talking. I was just a sexual partner to you, and you were just an outlet for me to vent my desires. Besides, your skills are mediocre. Once I've recovered, I'll find someone younger and better in bed."

Vincent stared at her red-rimmed eyes and her forced bravado. His brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

At that moment, the nurse rushed back in. "Mr. Allen, Ms. Elena is done with her check-up, and she's been asking for you."

Hearing that, Elvira flung the cup beside her at his feet. "Get out. I don't need you here!"

Vincent looked at her for a few seconds. Then, he spoke, his voice distant. "I'm here because Lilian is your friend. She asked me to look after you."

Elvira couldn't help but laugh, trembling so hard it pulled at every injured muscle. "Don't worry. I'm not that delusional."

Something flickered faintly in Vincent's eyes, so fast it was barely noticeable.

It was the first time he had ever seen Elvira cry. Even when he pushed her to her limits in bed, she only bit her lip stubbornly. Her eyes would be slightly red, but she'd never shed tears.

His throat moved, as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply followed the nurse out the door.

When his back disappeared, Elvira collapsed against the bed, the pillow silently soaking her tears.

…

The next few days were torture.

She stayed in the hospital alone.

Changing dressings hurt so much that she broke out in cold sweats. Food tasted like nothing, and she didn't have a single person around to pour her a glass of water.

Meanwhile, the VIP ward next door was overflowing with care.

Sometimes, she would overhear the nurses whispering in the hallway about how lucky Elena was. Vincent fed her himself, wiped her hands, and watched over her through the night.

For her peace of mind, he even called in the Allen family's elite bodyguards to guard the door around the clock so tightly that not even a fly could get in.

Once, while passing that room, Elvira saw through the slightly open door that Vincent was peeling an apple at Elena's bedside, slow and patient.

Elena leaned on his shoulder with a soft smile. She was playing with the diamond bracelet Vincent had once given Elvira.

That sight felt like a bullet ripping straight through her heart, but she didn't cry.

She was Elvira Corleone, the Corleone Principessa. Even if she lost everything, she would not lose her pride.

From this day forward, she vowed never to shed another tear for Vincent.

…

On the day she was discharged, the sun was bright and warm. Elvira removed the hospital gown and slipped into a striking dress.

She didn't return home. Instead, she headed straight to the embassy and applied for an emergency visa.

Norwell held everything she had ever loved and everything she had ever hated. Now, she wanted only to leave it behind.