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.
After finishing her visa paperwork, Elvira returned to the Corleone residence. The moment she stepped through the door, she ran into her perfectly made-up stepmother, Camilla.
"Elvira, you're finally home. You've been out all night for days. Do you have any idea how disgraceful that looks?" Camilla lifted her chin in her usual condescending manner, with disgust dripping from her voice.
To her, Elvira was nothing more than a useless girl who had lost her mother's protection and would eventually be thrown out of the family.
Elvira didn't even spare her a glance. She walked straight to the entryway, raised her hand, and slammed the vase onto the marble floor.
A loud crash echoed as shards flew everywhere.
Camilla shrieked and stumbled backward in fear.
"And what exactly are you?" Elvira's voice was cold enough to freeze, her eyes sharp with unmasked hostility. "You're nothing but a mistress who wrecked my parents' marriage. How dare you lecture me? Remember this, Camilla. As long as I'm still in this house, you'll never be able to lift your head in this family."
Every word struck deep. Camilla's face turned pale, and her body trembled.
"Elvira, what are you up to this time?"
Upon hearing the commotion, Antonio rushed out of the study and quickly helped steady the shaken Camilla. He glared at Elvira in anger. "You cause a scene the second you come home. Can't you behave yourself for once?"
Watching him shield Camilla, Elvira felt nothing. Her heart had long been frozen to the core. "I'm causing a scene? Fine. Just give me back my mother's inheritance. I'll leave the country immediately and never bother you again."
Antonio froze. Then, he feigned concern. "What are you saying? Why would you leave? Stay here. This is your home."
"Home?" Elvira let out a laugh of pure mockery. "Cut the act, Antonio. You, Camilla, and Elena—you're the happy family. I don't have a home anymore, not since my mother died."
She pulled a document from her bag and tossed it on the coffee table. "Name your price. I want my rightful share. My mother's inheritance, including the shares in the overseas accounts, and the profits from the three Aelorian smuggling routes."
Antonio's expression darkened instantly. "You're insane! Absolutely not. You're trying to gut half of the Corleone family's assets!"
"Insane?"
Elvira walked to the window and stared at the garden below. Her tone was calm, but the determination in it was unmistakable.
"You forced me into this. You used my grandfather's money to secure your position as the Don. My mother died saving you in that planned car crash, and now you're using her wealth to support a mistress and her bastard, living in the house she bought. Do you think I'll just sit back and watch?"
She turned back, her eyes sharp enough to slice through boulders. "Either sign this agreement and return what belongs to me, or we all die here today. I buried explosives in the basement. I don't want this house anyway."
Antonio's pupils shrank. His finger trembled as he pointed at her. "Y-You lunatic!"
He knew her too well. Elvira always meant what she said.
His fear of death crushed everything else. He collapsed onto the couch, cold sweat streaming down his back.
He grabbed a pen and scribbled his name on the agreement. "There… Now, get rid of the bomb," he said shakily.
Elvira picked up the document and confirmed his signature. A mocking smile tugged at her lips. "Relax. There isn't one. After all, isn't this how you tricked my mother into marriage? Like father, like daughter."
Realizing he'd been played, Antonio nearly passed out from rage, but he couldn't utter a word. Elvira didn't glance at him again. She turned to go upstairs and pack her things.
"Stop right there!" Antonio barked, suppressing his anger.
"Your sister's bringing her partner home for dinner tonight. I don't care what kind of trouble you've stirred up before. This time, you will behave."
He emphasized, "Her boyfriend is Vincent Allen, the Don of the Allen family. We can't afford to offend him, so don't you dare cause problems."
Elvira's steps halted.
Her entire body went rigid, and she found it hard to believe that Vincent was paying them a visit as Elena's partner.
The next second, the doorbell rang.
A housekeeper opened the door, and Elena walked in, clinging to Vincent's arm with a bright smile.
The moment their eyes met, Vincent's brows drew together. Clearly, he had just realized that Elvira was Elena's sister.
Elvira's heart twisted sharply once again.
At the dining table, the atmosphere was tense.
Elena and Vincent sat together on one side, looking like a picture-perfect couple. Antonio and Camilla hovered around them with flattery written all over their faces, while Elvira sat alone across from them like the outcast.
Throughout the entire meal, Elvira had to watch Vincent carefully place food on Elena's plate, slice her steak for her, and even gently wipe the sauce from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
That tenderness was a side of him she had never seen before.
"Elena, how did you and Don Allen meet?" Camilla's voice carried a smug excitement as she asked.
A soft blush spread across Elena's face as she replied shyly, "It was at a family charity dinner. I saw a stray cat stuck in a tree and tried to help it, but I almost fell. Vincent caught me. After that, he asked for my number."
She turned to him with a gaze overflowing with affection.
Elvira couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping.
The room went silent at once, and everyone looked at her.
Elena had hated animals since she was little and had killed Elvira's cat back then. There was no way she would ever help a stray. Either she staged the whole thing, or she planned to hurt the cat later.
"What's so funny, Elvira?" Antonio's face darkened as he barked at her.
She ignored him, curling her lips into a bright, bold smirk. "I'm laughing because some people lie so badly you can't even pretend to believe them."
Elena's expression shifted. "When will you bring a partner home then? Let us see what true love looks like for you."
"Bring one home? That won't work," Elvira drawled lazily, her eyes flicking briefly toward Vincent before settling back on Elena.
"There are just too many. Unlike you, I'm not lacking in charm. It doesn't take me three years to snag a single man."
She paused, as if boasting but also mocking herself. "Men who are interested in me can fill the entire Corleone residence to the brim. Mafia bosses and CEOs of multinational companies, it's hard to choose which one to bring first."
"Elvira!"
Antonio slammed his hand on the table, making the dishes clatter. "Can you stop running your mouth for once?"
Camilla's chest rose and fell in anger, but with Vincent present, she didn't dare make a scene. Meanwhile, Elena looked pitiful, her eyes reddening as she sought comfort from Vincent.
Vincent set down his fork, wiped his hands with a napkin, and, under everyone's gaze, gently took Elena's hand from the table.
"Elena doesn't need to compete with anyone," he said, his voice low and firm, filled with possessive adoration. "To me, no one can compare to her. She's the best, and one of a kind."
The words hit like a knife to the chest.
Elena brightened immediately, squeezing his hand back and even lifting her head to shoot Elvira a triumphant glance.
Elvira stared at their intertwined hands, forcing her face to remain composed as her heart twisted painfully. She lifted her wine and downed the entire glass. The burn felt like nothing compared to what she felt inside.
This family dinner was nothing but a humiliating farce.
After dinner, Antonio and Camilla stayed in the living room with Elena and Vincent, chatting cheerfully like a happy family.
Elvira had no interest in pretending. She stood and walked into the garden.
The night wind brushed across her skin. It did nothing to ease the weight in her chest.
Before long, Elena followed, voice soft and sugar-coated with poison. "I've known about you and Vincent being sexual partners for three years."