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."

Elvira's shoulders stiffened. She didn't turn around.

"To be honest, I was a little worried at first," Elena continued as she circled Elvira like a vulture, openly examining her.

"You're so beautiful. Any man would be tempted, but what a waste of a pretty face. Your mother couldn't beat my mother, and you'll never beat me. These past three years were nothing more than charity on my part. Now that the real deal is back, it's time for you to get off the stage."

Elvira slowly turned to face her. Under the moonlight, her eyes gleamed with a chilling sharpness. There was no anger, only ice-cold mockery. "Charity? Elena, did you forget what you are?

"You're a bastard who only got into this family because your mother was a homewrecker, a sad little schemer who can only hold onto a man through manipulation. You think you get to talk to me about charity?

She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. "Your mother picked up what my mother didn't want, and you're following in her footsteps. Like mother, like daughter. You two have a real talent for collecting leftovers."

"You—"

Elena's smile froze, her face turning pale then red with rage. She hadn't expected Elvira, even in this situation, to be so stubborn.

Just as Elvira turned to leave, Elena suddenly let out a scream.

Elvira spun around to find Elena on the ground, clutching her forehead as blood soaked through her fingers and dripped down her white dress. A solid stone bench sat right next to her.

Antonio, Camilla, and Vincent rushed out at the same moment.

"Elena! My baby!"

Camilla dropped to the ground and cradled her, panic written across her face.

Antonio's face twisted with fury as he pointed at Elvira. "Elvira, you ungrateful brat! What did you do to your sister this time?"

Elvira stared at the setup, her heart numb. Her gaze swept past Antonio and Camilla before finally landing on Vincent.

He was crouched over Elena, inspecting her wound with extreme care. Concern twisted his face, then he looked up.

Those calm eyes now contained nothing but judgment and disgust.

At that moment, Elvira's heart sank in disappointment.

He didn't believe her. Of course, he didn't.

Elena was the one he cared for. Why would he believe Elvira?

She let out a soft, sudden laugh. If they wanted to frame her, then she might as well make it real.

The next second, she strode over. Under everyone's horrified stares, she grabbed a heavy ceramic planter beside the path and brought it down hard toward the exact place Elena had hit her head.

There was a dull, sickening crack, followed by Elena's shrill scream and the sound of everyone else gasping in terror.

"Listen up." Elvira dropped the shattered pot and said calmly, "I didn't touch her before, but now I did."

Everyone, including Vincent, froze. He never imagined she would go this far.

Elvira let the broken pieces fall from her hand and turned to leave, but a hand clamped down on her wrist with enough force to crush bone.

Vincent held her in place, his face darker than the night around them. He turned to Antonio, his voice icy cold. "Antonio, if she isn't properly punished after what she just did, I won't let this go. The Allen family does not tolerate anyone harming my woman."

Antonio, torn between his pity for Elena and his fear for Vincent and the Allens, quickly bobbed his head in submission. "Of course. I'll make sure she learns her lesson."

He motioned to the bodyguards. "Grab this disgraceful girl and lock her up in the basement!"

"Don't you dare!" Elvira resisted, glaring at Antonio.

She had been down there once as a child. It wasn't just a weapons vault. It was where the Corleones punished traitors and enemies, a dark and terrifying place filled with torture devices.

Antonio looked to Vincent for confirmation. "Don Allen, do you find this a fitting punishment? Locking her down there to reflect on what she's done?"

Vincent lifted Elena into his arms, her blood still flowing. His eyes were colder than steel as they swept past Elvira.

His lips parted, and the words that followed were merciless. "That's too light a punishment. I saw a riding whip hanging in the study earlier. It shouldn't just be for decoration."

Without another word, he left with Elena in his arms.

Elvira stood frozen like she'd been struck by lightning, staring at his fading figure.

He actually suggested they whip her.

This was the same man who once stayed by her bed when she was injured, who held her in silence whenever she was sad. Now, he was condemning her to a hell she couldn't escape.

"Do as Don Allen says!" Antonio barked.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, pinning Elvira despite how violently she struggled. They dragged her into the study.

Camilla entered holding a thick riding whip, satisfaction and cruelty flickering across her face. She had been waiting far too long to teach Elvira a lesson.

"You brat. Just like your dead mother, you never seem to know your place. Today, I'll discipline you on your father's behalf."

She swung the whip, the strike landing hard across Elvira's back.

A sharp burst of pain shot through her, the severity of it making her vision go dark for a moment. She clenched her jaw and bit down on her lip, refusing to let a single sound escape.

Even if she was going to die, she wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing her break.

Camilla struck her again, then again. Years of resentment fueled every blow. Each lash felt like Elvira's flesh was being torn apart, the pain driving tremors through her entire body as cold sweat soaked her clothes.

Her awareness blurred, but memories surfaced on their own. Vincent had once sensed the tension between her and Camilla and asked, "Do you need me to take care of it?"

She remembered sneaking to her mother's grave late at night, and he had somehow found her and wrapped her in his coat in the pouring rain before sending her home.

She remembered those rare moments of tenderness she once believed meant he cared.

Back then, had he ever imagined a day he would force her into a situation like this?

Blood filled her throat. She coughed, then a low, broken laugh escaped her.

Camilla shuddered at the sound and grew furious. "What are you laughing at, bitch?"

"I'm laughing because you and your daughter will always be picking up somebody else's..."

She lifted her face, streaked with sweat and blood, eyes blazing as she spat out each word like poison. "Trash."

"You little…"

Camilla shook with anger. She threw the whip aside and shouted toward a housekeeper, "Bring the electric baton!"

"No, Mrs. Corleone. You mustn't! Ms. Elvira will die," Martha Leavitt, Elvira's maid, pleaded.

Marta had been brought here by Elvira's mother. She had watched Elvira grow up and had always been loyal to her.

"Get out of my way."

Camilla shoved Martha aside, grabbed the electric baton from a bodyguard, and swung it into Elvira's body.

The electric shock shot through her, forcing a strained groan from her throat. Elvira clearly heard something crack inside her chest.

Blood sputtered from her mouth, and she fainted.

…

When Elvira opened her eyes again, she was lying in her own bed. Her body ached everywhere, so intensely it felt as if she had been crushed.

Martha was secretly applying medicine to her wounds, wiping tears from her cheeks as she whispered, "Ms. Elvira, please just give in to Don Corleone. You don't have to suffer like this."

Elvira's voice was hoarse as she shook her head. "Give in to him? If I bend to this family, they'll leave nothing of me."

She paused and gave a faint smile that looked more painful than crying. "It's just a beating. Elena now has a wound, too. It's fair. I can handle it."

She reached under her pillow, pulled out a bank card, and pressed it into Martha's hand. "Take this. I'm leaving the country soon, and I won't be back. You belong to my mother. Once I'm gone, they won't treat you well. This is enough for your retirement. Quit and leave."

Martha stared at the card, then at the injured Elvira, her tears falling uncontrollably. She tried to bow, but Elvira quickly stopped her.

"Martha, I feel like having the mushroom soup you used to make," she said weakly, a trace of her younger self in her tone.

"Alright, I'll make some right away."

Martha wiped her tears and hurried off to the kitchen.

Once the room was quiet again, Elvira gritted her teeth through the pain and packed her luggage. She gathered every gift Vincent had given her.

He didn't love her, but he was extremely generous. The jewelry and luxury car keys were bought with dirty money and were worth hundreds of millions.

She had originally wanted to throw everything away, but changed her mind and decided to auction them off instead.

She knew there was a "charity auction" tonight at a high-end club controlled by her family, a place mainly used for laundering money.

As evening fell, Elvira carried several large suitcases into the club.

After delivering the items to the auction handlers, she turned around and saw Vincent and Elena walking in together. Elena leaned close to Vincent, and when she spotted Elvira, a hint of pride and provocation flashed through her eyes.

Elvira paid them no heed. She was about to find a seat when a drunk man approached her. He was an Associate from a minor family who had long been thinking about her.

"Ms. Corleone, it must be lonely sitting here by yourself. Let me keep you company."

He reached for her waist as he spoke.

Elvira pushed him away. "Get lost!"

The next second, the man was kicked aside and quickly dragged out by the staff. Elvira recognized the person who struck—Vincent's personal bodyguard.

She instinctively looked toward Vincent. The lighting was dim, making his expression unclear. He still had an arm around Elena, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

The lights brightened, and the auction began.

The first item presented was Elvira's jewelry. The starting price was 10 million dollars, shocking the entire room. Vincent recognized them immediately, his gaze sharpening.

Elena tugged his sleeve. "Vincent, that necklace is so pretty. I like it."

He remained silent for a moment before raising his paddle. The entire lot of jewelry ended up being sold to him for 100 million dollars, and he gifted it all to Elena.

Elvira snickered inwardly. It was the most ironic form of returning things to their rightful owner.