The realization hit the room like a physical blow: she hadn't been joking. Their gazes shifted, now a cocktail of disgust and fear.

I had to get out of there. I snatched my bag and stalked out the door.

Sitting in my car, my carefully constructed composure shattered. I slumped over the steering wheel, utterly exhausted, my eyes burning.

Lorenzo and I were fine. Then Bianca came along.

Whenever he could slip away from family business, Lorenzo would join me in my art studio. A woman claiming to admire my talent began visiting frequently. That woman was Bianca.

Trying to be welcoming, Lorenzo started inviting her to our private gatherings. She would always flash a brilliant smile and praise him. "The perfect heir. Flora is so lucky to have you."

Gradually, we became… friendly. Or so I thought. She would use the excuse of visiting me just so Lorenzo would have to pick her up. Seeing me, she'd pull me into an enthusiastic hug, then playfully scold him, "You weren't even going to come see her! I had to drag you here! You really need to keep a better eye on your girl!"

Lorenzo would just smile, ruffle her hair, and give an indulgent nod. A prickle of unease would crawl up my spine, but I could never name the source.

Soon, her praise for Lorenzo came with barbs aimed at me. "Flora, you're so lost in your own little world. You don't understand the rules of a family like ours. A girl needs to leverage her value. With your… background, you should be clinging to a man like Lorenzo."

My status as a hostage already left me insecure. Bianca's words chipped away at what little pride I had left, planting a seed of deep unease.

Lorenzo noticed my change in mood, but he just said I was being too sensitive.

Not long after, following a family dinner, I gave Lorenzo a sketch I'd designed for him—a family crest tattoo, a symbol of our love. After finishing my duties, I hurried to his study, eager to surprise him.

"Flora's design is nothing compared to your ideas," Lorenzo's voice drifted from behind the door. "Her taste is so… pedestrian. This sketch is childish. You were right—someone living on our family's charity, a glorified hostage, will never truly belong in our world."

I froze. My hand fell from the doorknob. I couldn't believe he'd use my status—my shame—as a joke for her.

Bianca's voice was a mix of feigned surprise and barely concealed glee. "You tore it up? I thought it was sweet."

He grunted a dismissive "Mm." The sound pierced my heart like a needle. "She just likes to play with these childish things. I don't like it. Forget it, let's go celebrate our new alliance."

His words were a blade, gutting me, leaving me humiliated and exposed.

I shrank back into the shadows of the hallway. Only after they were gone did I creep out and retrieve the torn pieces of my sketch from the wastebasket.

Just then, Lorenzo turned back, running right into me. A flash of guilt crossed his face. "Flora, I forgot a document."

I dodged his outstretched hand. "The alliance agreement in your hand looks fine. This piece of trash isn't necessary." My gaze fell on the contract with the Marchetti family he was holding.

He was stunned for a moment before his expression soured into the irritation of being caught. "What are you throwing a fit about? I told you I came back for a document! This alliance is far more important than your useless drawing! Bianca's family, her insight—what part of that isn't better than what you can offer?"

His words were another knife to the gut. I stared at him, disbelief choking me. "You really believe that?"

Lately, I’d heard the whispers—that I was jealous of Bianca, that I was picking fights with Lorenzo. No one ever stopped to consider that we were the lovers, and she was the intruder.

His tone was sharp with impatience. "Am I wrong? You're dripping with jealousy for Bianca, and you won't even admit it. Everyone sees it! She's more valuable to this family than you'll ever be. I'm still choosing you, shouldn't that be enough?"

Seeing my stunned silence, he snatched Bianca's coat from a nearby chair and stormed out.

That night, Lorenzo must have realized he’d gone too far, because he sent a gift to my room. "Flora, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. This is an antique paintbrush you've been wanting; I went to an auction specifically to get it for you."

My eyes landed on a second jewelry box, and my stomach plummeted. "What's this?" I asked.

"That's for Bianca. She liked it, too. It's a more valuable bracelet."

An apology gift for me, and a more valuable one for her. The thought was a bitter pill. A lump formed in my throat. "Lorenzo, don't you see how much you've changed?"

"Don't you think you've changed?" he shot back.

Tears welled, my voice cracking. "I've changed? Yes. Bianca's constant digs have made me insecure, sensitive, and tormented!"

"Don't you dare talk about her like that! She's not that kind of person!" He rushed to her defense so quickly it was like a physical blow, each word another needle in my heart.

After that, we fell into a cold war, one that dragged on longer than any before.

He and Bianca started appearing everywhere together, a perfect couple in everyone's eyes.

One day, Bianca asked to meet me at a bar frequented only by the family. When I arrived, she was in a heated argument with members of a rival family. I had no choice but to pull her away. On the road back, we were cut off by Cassano family enforcers.

Terror seized me, but I forced it down, my fingers fumbling to send a distress signal to Lorenzo.

Bianca grabbed my arm, her eyes wide. "Flora, go get help! I'll hold them off. There's one of our outposts just up the road—run!"

I couldn't think of a better plan, so I turned and ran. By the time I returned with the Underboss, Lorenzo was already there, cradling a terrified-looking Bianca.

"Are you okay?" I gasped, relieved.

Then Bianca spoke, and the world fell out from under me. "I just wanted to explain things to you, but you kept leading me toward the rival family's men. Were you trying to sell them information? Do you hate me that much? Is this because you're jealous I can bring an alliance to Lorenzo?"

The onslaught of accusations left me reeling. "What? No! That's not what happened!"

But Lorenzo's hand was already moving. He slapped me, hard, across the face.