"Forget it! For all the years you've given the family... Just... don't. Go!"

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

But Sofia stomped her foot, dissatisfied.

"Dante, I'm going to be the Donna of this family! Don't I get any say at all?"

Dante, who had always indulged her, shot her a sharp, warning look, telling her to shut up.

Then, his expression softened as he faced me. He wired a large sum to my account and promised,

"Don't worry. The family doesn't forget its own. We take care of those who've served us well. Though you're leaving for now, you won't lose a penny of what you're owed. It just needs a little time."

"As for your compensation, I'll have it sorted for you in seven days. Go home and rest."

He thought I still didn't know his amnesia was an act. He naively believed that in seven days, he could use his "injury" as an excuse, apologize, beg for my forgiveness, and everything would return to normal.

But this hands-off boss had no idea that the deadline for our most important transaction with the Russians was only seven days away.

The project involved a staggering amount of money. If it fell through, he'd face a massive penalty for breach of contract and could even trigger a war between the two families.

If this had happened before, for the stability of the family and his position, I would have shouldered the humiliation and swallowed the bitterness alone.

But I'd grown tired of it all long ago. This family, and him... I was done with both.

Standing before me, Dante subconsciously reached out to smooth a stray strand of my hair, then abruptly remembered his role and let his hand fall.

I glanced at my phone and rejected the transfer.

I deleted his name from my encrypted contacts with a single, clean swipe.

After that was done, I looked at him calmly.

"Dante, I want to leave the Moretti family."

Dante was stunned, blurting out, "You want to leave the family? Why?"

The moment the words escaped, he realized his slip and hastily corrected himself.

"Leave? That's insane. Sofia is my woman. I don't even know who you are."

Watching his clumsy performance, I couldn't be bothered to call his bluff or waste my breath arguing.

So I played along and spun a tale of my own.

"I'm the one who deceived you to get where I am. Now, let's go see the Don."

Hearing this, Sofia beamed and urged, "That's what should have happened long ago. Let's go right now."

Dante hesitated, his brow furrowing. He seemed determined to brush the whole thing aside, ignoring the gaping holes in my story.

"Hold on. This feels... off. Let's not be rash. I'll decide later."

I was baffled.

Doesn't he love Sofia? I'm offering to step aside and make way for them, so why is he fighting it?

In the past, I would have pressed him, ridiculously asking if he'd ever loved me.

Now, I couldn't be bothered to guess his motives. I just wanted out.

I raised an eyebrow, prodding him. "You object? Is it because you can't bear to let me go?"

Sofia immediately tugged at his sleeve, her expression wounded. "Dante, am I not the woman you love most? How can you let her bewitch you!"

Caught between us, Dante had no choice but to cave and agree.

As the three of us walked toward the Don's office, just as we reached the door, Dante suddenly shook his head as if a familiar sight had jogged a memory. He took my hand.

"This hallway... it looks so familiar. I remember now."

"Right here. This is where we joined forces for the first time and cleanly disposed of that traitor."

He knew that was the beginning of our rise to power.

He thought that by dredging up memories of us fighting and bleeding together, I would soften.

But on that day, I hadn't just overheard their plan. I'd also heard Dante talking to Sofia about our past.

"Love? What the hell is love? I chose her because she was more useful than the rest."

"But I'm sick of being tied to a passionless tool. I was just using her, that's all."

"Anyway, it's all about the climb, who you partner with. She's smart, she makes me money."

"And loyal. A good partner..."

Standing outside the door, listening to his cold assessment of me, my heart had plummeted.

I thought we had built an empire woven from love and loyalty. For him, it was nothing but a series of calculations.

No wonder that once the family's finances stabilized, he, who valued money and power above all else, never let me touch the true core. He had been guarding against me all along.

My mind drifted for a moment. Dante tugged my hand, asking if I remembered.

I was so tired of this marriage, of the constant suspicion. Cutting my losses was the smartest move I could make.

I shook my head and replied dismissively, "No. You're confused. The bullet must have scrambled your brains."

Dante's smile froze. Seeing that his attempts to charm me were failing, and then remembering that he was a "patient" and I was refusing to indulge him, his anger flared.

He grabbed Sofia's arm, lacing his fingers with hers.

"You're right. That was all fake. My only woman is Sofia."

"After the ceremony, I will formally announce Sofia as my fiancée!"

He turned on his heel and strode happily into the office with Sofia, as if they were the stars of the show.

I couldn't be bothered with his theatrics and followed them inside.

Before the Don, our marriage was formally dissolved.

Throughout the process, Dante held Sofia close, personally feeding her peeled grapes one by one, all while his eyes darted toward me.

He thought this would make me jealous.

On the contrary, it only reminded me of the cold, ascetic Dante I once knew.

In public, he wouldn't even hold my hand.

Now, he was a different person, so brazen it was hard to watch.

My expression remained impassive, which clearly displeased Dante. He gave me the silent treatment, as if in a fit of pique, and rushed through the proceedings.

A weight I hadn't even realized I was carrying finally lifted.

I called a car to take me home.

Sofia leaned over. Seeing the address I gave was our home, her face contorted with fury.

"Home? You've left the family. That's not your home anymore."

"Pack your things immediately and get out!"

Dante stood beside her, a smug smile on his face.

"That's right. Kick the outsider out, and you move in, darling."

He was kicking me out for her.

No woman could accept that, and the old me certainly couldn't have.

But now, I just nodded indifferently.

"Alright. I'll move out now."

I booked a hotel from the car, and once I arrived home, I began to methodically pack my belongings.

Things were spiraling out of his control.

He softened his tone for once, feigning a flicker of memory. He pointed to the black hawk I'd had tattooed on my chest for him.

"Isabella, when did you get this tattoo?"

Without looking up, I continued stuffing clothes into my suitcase. "It's fake," I said flatly. "Just a sticker."

That sentence broke him.

He ripped open his shirt, revealing his own chest. A black hawk had once been there, a mirror to mine. Now, a fresh letter "S"—for Sofia—was inked beneath it.

I continued to play dumb.

He exploded with humiliated rage, snatching my luggage and hurling my things out the door, one by one.

"Get out! Get out now!"

He slammed the door shut with a deafening bang.

I shook my head without a word, silently picking my clothes up from the floor, dusting them off, and stuffing them into my bag.

From inside, I heard Sofia's anxious voice.

"Dante, it's all my fault things have come to this."

"Seeing you two like this breaks my heart. Why don't I go talk to her, clear things up?"

Dante composed himself and comforted her.

"It has nothing to do with you. It's Isabella's fault for being so petty, holding a grudge against a sick man."

"Let's not worry about her. I'll spend these next seven days with you, and I'll deal with her after."

"Izzy is easy to placate. All I have to do is beckon, and she'll come running back."

I gathered my things and got into the armored car.

He was deluding himself. This time, it was really over.