Chapter 3

The bedroom door burst open. Alexander strode in.

"Who are you texting?"

"A friend." I met his gaze calmly.

He towered over me, jaw tight. "Don't even think about leaving. Where do you think you can run?"

"You forced Chloe away back then," his voice dripped with ice. "You were jealous. You didn't want her by my side."

I froze.

"I only married you after she left. You got everything you wanted." He glared at me. "Now that she's back, you think you can just walk away? Impossible."

So that was how Chloe played him. She claimed I forced her out. No wonder he hated me, thinking I had ruthlessly stolen his true love to take the seat of the Rizzo family’s Donna.

Should I defend myself? Tell him I never drove her away?

But what would it change? Even if he knew the truth, she was the one he loved. Explaining would only earn me more humiliation.

So I said nothing.

He took my silence as a confession. Scoffing in disgust, he turned and strode out.

The second he left, my phone lit up. A text from Victor:

"I'll pick you up in two days. Be ready."

Two days. Just two more days to survive this hell. Alexander Rizzo, whether you hate me or see me as a substitute—in two days, it’s over.

"Madam, I brought your medicine."

It was the butler.

"Come in," I said.

He carried a steaming bowl. "Mr. Rizzo ordered this. He said you might catch a cold after a night in the dungeon."

I stared at the bowl, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. Medicine from Alexander? After the way he looked at me, there was no way.

"Take it away. I don't need it."

"But Madam..."

"Take it away," I repeated.

The butler hesitated, set the bowl on the nightstand, and quietly backed out.

Two minutes later, the door pushed open again. Chloe.

She walked to the bed, glancing at the bowl. A mocking scoff escaped her lips.

"Don't tell me you actually thought Alexander sent that?"

"He doesn't care if you freeze or rot in the water dungeon. I had the butler bring it—just to see if you were stupid enough to believe Alexander cared. Seems you have some brains left."

She picked up the porcelain bowl and smashed it onto the floor.

Her smile vanished. Crouching down, she picked up a jagged shard of porcelain.

I instinctively shrank back, wrapping my arms around my abdomen.

Chloe stood and pressed the sharp edge against her own cheek.

"Tell me, if Alexander finds out you hurt me again, what would he do?"

"You're insane—" My pupils contracted.

Before I could finish, she dragged the ceramic down her cheek. Blood welled up instantly.

"Ah—! Sister! Why would you do this to me!" she screamed.

Clutching her bleeding face, she collapsed among the shattered porcelain. Tears mixed with blood, but a cruel smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

She really was insane. To destroy me, she would willingly ruin her own face.

The door smashed open. Alexander charged in like an enraged beast, Carmine and Rosalyn close behind.

Seeing Chloe in a pool of blood, his rationality snapped. He lunged, gathering her carefully into his arms.

"My daughter!" Rosalyn wailed.

Alexander looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked at me without a fraction of doubt—only absolute, visceral hatred.

"Eleanor—you—"

"It wasn't me..." I tried to say.

He didn't listen. He stalked toward me. I scrambled back, but he grabbed me and violently yanked me off the bed.

"Alexander! Let go!" I screamed.

He hurled me toward the doorway. Instinctively, I reached out my left hand, bracing against the solid wood doorframe.

Swinging with terrifying force, the heavy door slammed shut onto my hand.

Agony shot through my spine like electricity.

My vision went black. Cold sweat soaked my back. Blood seeped from the doorframe, dripping onto the floor.

Alexander let go of the door, not sparing a single glance for my mangled hand. He returned to Chloe, scooping her up. "Don't be afraid. The doctor is on the way," he whispered softly.

As he carried her out, stepping over my trembling body, he paused.

"Eleanor, this is your last warning. Hurt Chloe again, and we get a divorce."

He strode away.

Divorce? He was threatening me with divorce?

He didn’t know his signature was already on the papers hidden in my bag. The second he signed, our marriage died.

The next day, Chloe walked in, sporting a victor's smugness.

"Alexander and I are having our wedding. He said he can't wait. You’ll watch just how much he loves me." She chuckled and left.

On the third day, the day I agreed upon with Victor arrived.

My phone vibrated. Messages from Chloe. Photos flooded the screen.

Alexander in a bespoke black suit, slipping a ring onto Chloe's finger as she leaned blissfully in a white gown.

"This is the wedding he actually wanted. You didn't even get one—because you were never worthy."

Five years ago, Alexander had said it wasn't safe, that he’d make it up to me later. Yet for Chloe, he threw together a lavish wedding in two days. It wasn't that he couldn't do it—he just never wanted to do it for me.

My phone buzzed again. Victor: "Ten minutes."

Ten minutes later, a commotion broke out near the perimeter. Victor appeared.

"Come on. The chopper is—"

He stopped. His eyes locked onto my bloody, bandaged hand.

The air around him turned glacial. He didn't ask questions. Jaw tight, he simply bent down and scooped me into his arms, his touch incredibly gentle.

As he carried me out to the waiting helicopter, I cast one last look at the estate. In the distance, the wedding lights burned brightly in the daylight.

"Let's go," I murmured.

The rotors roared as we lifted into the sky. Once we reached a safe altitude, Victor kept one arm around me, pulled a remote from his coat, and pressed the button.

A deep explosion rocked the Rizzo estate.

A blinding pillar of fire blasted through the ground, dyeing the sky red and swallowing their fake laughter.

I stared down at the burning estate below.

Goodbye, Alexander Rizzo.

In this lifetime, we will never see each other again.