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.

Elvira left her seat at intermission to touch up her makeup. When she stepped out of the restroom, she saw Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, smoking.

She tried to walk past without looking at him, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Why did you sell the gifts I gave you?"

His voice was quiet, with a hint of roughness.

Elvira lifted her eyes, her tone edged with sarcasm. "Why did you step in earlier? Are you going to say it's because I'm Lilian's friend, or maybe because I'm Elena's sister?"

Vincent pressed his fingers against his brow, a hint of fatigue flickering across his face. "You're always like a hedgehog, prickles out all the time. How does that help you?"

How did that help her?

If she didn't protect herself like that, this family and Elena would have devoured her long ago.

"My matters have nothing to do with you," Elvira answered, jerking her hand free. "And as for men, I can have as many as I want. You don't get a say on it either."

His voice dropped lower. "Where are you going?"

She didn't answer him. She turned and walked away.

She returned to her seat, wanting this farce to end so she could leave Norwell for good.

However, when the next auction item appeared, her expression froze.

It was a blue diamond ring. The design was vintage and elegant. Inside the band, she could see the account password for a secret bank in Norwell engraved into the metal.

That ring had been her mother's most cherished possession. It was the last form of protection her mother left for her.

Her gaze shot to Elena, and the smug look in Elena's eyes said everything. Antonio must have stolen her mother's ring and given it to Elena, who then gave it to a charity auction just to humiliate her.

Elvira forced herself to stay calm and took part in the bidding. She couldn't let her mother's ring fall into anyone else's hands.

After several intense rounds of bidding, Elvira went all in and finally won the ring. Relief washed through her as she stood to collect the ring.

Just then, Elena suddenly rose. "Wait."

Her tone was gentle, but the malice behind it was clear. "I made a mistake. I brought the wrong item. This ring is my personal keepsake, and I must've mixed it up. Sorry, but I'm not planning on auctioning it."

With that, she took the ring, flashed Elvira a smile of victory, and turned to leave.

Elvira hurried after her, catching her outside the club. "Elena, give the ring back. I'll pay you whatever amount you want."

"I'm not short on money."

Elena toyed with the ring, smiling cruelly. "You've always been so proud and cared so much about appearances. If you want it, you can go down there and pick it up yourself."

She walked to the edge of the man-made lake and tossed the ring into the dark water.

Elvira jumped into the freezing lake without a second of hesitation.

Mud clung to her clothes and smeared the makeup across her face, but none of that mattered. She searched the bottom blindly, her fingers scraping against sharp stones.

That ring was the only remaining piece of her mother. She couldn't lose it.

…

When Vincent came out after finishing his cigarette, the first thing he saw was Elvira struggling in the lake. His brows tightened, and he hurried toward the water.

He reached his hand toward her, his voice tinged with suppressed fury. "Elvira, get out of there!"

She pushed his hand away and kept searching.

Finally, her fingertips brushed something solid and cold. She grabbed it and clutched it tightly, dragging herself out of the lake, soaked from head to toe.

Vincent looked at the ring in her hand, his eyes dark. "You donated hundreds of millions like it was nothing, yet you're willing to throw your life away for a trinket like this?"

"You don't understand anything!" Elvira was trembling from the cold and from anger. "You're the one who said we were done, so do me a favor and leave me alone, Vincent. Don't talk to me either."

Her words pierced straight through him. His body stiffened, his pupils constricting.

Just then, Elena approached, reaching immediately for the ring. "Thank you for retrieving it for me."

"This belonged to my mother!"

Elvira held on tightly, refusing to release it.

"Vincent, my mom gave it to me…" Elena said softly, turning to him with wet eyes.

Vincent looked at Elvira's stubborn grip, then at Elena's expectant gaze. His hand closed around Elvira's wrist. "Let go," he demanded sharply.

Elvira glared at him, her eyes bloodshot. "No!"

Vincent used more and more force, practically relying on brute strength as he pried her fingers open one by one.

A sharp crack sounded, and Elvira let out a stifled cry of pain. Her wrist had been snapped by him, just like that.

Agony rushed through her entire body. Her face turned completely pale as she stared at the cold and ruthless man in front of her, unable to believe what he had just done.

Elena took the chance to snatch the ring, shot Elvira a triumphant look, and walked off while holding onto Vincent's arm.

Elvira held back the pain and tried to chase after them, but as soon as they stepped back into the club, the lighting rig above suddenly came loose and dropped straight toward Elena.

Vincent reacted immediately and shoved Elena out of the way. The side of the heavy frame ended up scraping against the back of Elvira's head.

"Elena!"

His expression shifted dramatically. He lifted Elena into his arms and ran toward the parking lot without once looking at Elvira, who was curled up on the floor in pain.

The pain had her on the edge of losing consciousness as she clutched at her fractured wrist. Fortunately, she was taken to the hospital by a kind passerby.

When the doctor examined her injuries, he couldn't help but ask, "Who did this to you?"

Elvira didn't respond. She stared out the window, her tears falling silently. Her heart hurt far more than her body did.