Chapter 3

Ellie POV

Florence was beautiful, an intricate masterpiece of stone and light, and I hated it.

The cobblestones were unforgiving under my feet. The air smelled of roasted coffee and damp earth, a stark contrast to the dry, scorching heat of home. But it was the silence that killed me.

Not the noise of the city-that was a deafening symphony of Vespas and tourists-but the silence from my phone.

I sat in a café, staring at a cup of espresso that had gone cold. It tasted vile, like stale regret and battery acid.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up. It was a girl from my art history class, her scarf perfectly knotted in that effortless Italian way.

"No," I said.

She sat down with a rustle of coats. "You're the American girl, right? The one with the rich guardian? Marcus Thorne?"

My stomach twisted into a tight knot. "Yes."

"He's so dreamy," she sighed, scrolling through her phone as if pulling up a receipt. "I saw him in a magazine once. Is he as intense in person?"

"He's... strict," I said, forcing my gaze toward the window.

I remembered the promise he had made to my parents. *I will always take care of her.* It felt like a joke now. A cruel punchline delivered to an empty room.

Later that night, in my small, drafty apartment, I tried to call him. It was a moment of weakness, born of exhaustion and the relentless rain. I just wanted to hear a familiar voice.

It rang once. Twice.

Then it went to voicemail. He hadn't just missed it; he had declined the call.

A minute later, an email pinged on my laptop.

*Subject: Focus.*

*Ellie, stop calling. You are there to study, not to chat. I am buried with the merger. Do not disturb me unless it is a genuine emergency. Focus on your work. You are wasting time.*

He didn't ask how I was. He didn't ask if I was safe. He just scolded me like a disobedient dog that had forgotten its place.

I closed the laptop with a sharp snap.

It started to rain harder outside. I walked to the window and pressed my hand against the cold glass. I felt small. Insignificant.

Against my better judgment, I opened social media. It was a toxic habit I couldn't break.

And there it was.

A post from Chloe. A photo of a diamond ring on her finger, catching the light in a blinding flare.

*Caption: Forever starts today. #Engaged #MrsThorne*

The world stopped.

I didn't cry. That was the strangest part. I expected to shatter, but instead, I felt a cold numbness spreading from my chest to my limbs, like anesthesia taking hold. My hands trembled slightly, but my eyes were dry.

He was engaged. He was building a life that had absolutely no space for me.

I looked at the screen. The smile on his face in the background of the photo was polite, reserved. But he was there. He had chosen her.

I took a deep breath. The air in my lungs felt thin, insufficient.

I went to my settings.

*Delete Account.*

*Are you sure?*

*Yes.*

The screen went black.

I stood in the middle of my apartment, the rain drumming a relentless rhythm against the roof. I was alone in a foreign country. I had no family. My guardian had just engaged the woman who hated me.

I was an orphan again.

But this time, I wouldn't look for a savior.

"Fine," I whispered to the empty room, my voice steady. "Be happy, Marcus. Be blind."

I went to my desk and pulled out a fresh canvas. I picked up a brush. My hand was rock steady now.

I had four years. I had a deadline.

When I returned to Arizona, I wouldn't be Ellie the ward. I wouldn't be Ellie the burden.

I would be a stranger. And strangers couldn't be hurt.