Chapter 4

After Vincent left, the room felt suffocating, the air heavy with silence.

I stared out at the darkening sky, memories of Vincent and me flooding my mind unbidden.

Those moments of warmth I once thought eternal now cut into my heart like sharp knives.

Eight years ago, I worked as a clerk in a small flower shop in Lower Manham.

Vincent walked in one day, his tailored suit stark against the shop's modest backdrop.

He said he wanted a bouquet of lilies because "they reminded him of someone."

Later, I learned that someone was me.

From that day, Vincent became a regular.

He brought different gifts daily, waited in his car for me after work, and scoured Eldoria to find foods I craved when I was sick.

His pursuit was bold and sincere, overwhelming for a plain girl like me.

I knew he was the heir to the Rossi family, one of Eldoria's most powerful mafia organizations.

We came from different worlds. I tried countless Flush pushing him away, insisting it could never work.

But Vincent was stubborn. "Elena, you're my entire world. Status means nothing. I only want you."

He clashed fiercely with his family over me.

The old don locked him up, cut off his funds.

Vincent went on a hunger strike for thirty days, nearly collapsing, until the don relented.

"Elena, marry me." On a rainy night, he knelt before me with my favorite lilies, his eyes brimming with love. "I'll love and protect you forever. You'll never suffer."

Tears in my eyes, I said yes.

Our wedding lacked the full blessing of his family, but Vincent gave me a fairy-tale ceremony.

He called me his light, the only color in his life.

After, he treated me like a princess.

He'd buy designer pieces I casually admired, skip meetings to keep me company when I found the estate too vast and lonely, and replaced every rose in the gardens with lilies, my favorite flower.

I believed our happiness would last forever.

Then Sophia Visconti entered the picture.

Sophia, the Visconti heiress and Vincent's childhood friend, openly adored him.

She made bold advances, but Vincent rejected her coldly.

"Elena, my heart belongs to you. No princess could ever compare."

But everything changed a year ago.

Sophia returned from Auria, and Vincent's attitude toward her shifted completely.

He began meeting her often, even staying away for three days to throw her a welcome-back gala.

When I confronted him, he explained. "Elena, three years ago in Auria, I was attacked. Sophia took a bullet for me, leaving her legs paralyzed. It took her three years to walk again. I owe her. Give me one year, okay? Once I repay this debt, she'll be out of my life."

I foolishly believed him.

I thought it was just gratitude, that the year would pass quickly.

But the day Diana died, I realized his "debt" was an excuse for betrayal.

Back in the present, the room was pitch black.

I fumbled for the lamp, its light stinging my eyes.

The apology statement sat on the table, my shaky signature a cruel mockery.

A car engine rumbled outside.

From the window, I saw Vincent's car at the estate's entrance. He helped Sophia out.

She wore an expensive cashmere coat, her face pale, leaning weakly against him.

My heart ached like it was pierced by needles.

The man who once reserved his tenderness for me now doted on another woman.

They entered the estate and soon reached the second floor.

I overheard Vincent instruct a servant. "Sophia isn't feeling well. Put her in the room next to the master bedroom. Turn up the heat and get her some hot milk."

"But, sir," the servant hesitated, "last night's storm soaked the guest room's mattress. The new one hasn't arrived."

"Then swap it with the master bedroom's mattress," Vincent said without pause.

The master bedroom? Our bedroom?

I couldn't hold back. I stormed out. "Vincent, what is this?"

Sophia buried her face in his chest, her voice fragile. "Elena, don't be mad... I didn't mean to take your room. My spine injury means I can't sleep on a hard bed."

Her fingers subtly pinched Vincent's arm, a flash of defiance in her eyes.