Chapter 3

Alessia's POV:

I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, my fingers tracing the cold, shattered jade.

It was impossible; the breaks were too clean, the fragments too small. It was as broken as Marco's oath to my dying mother-an oath to protect me, to cherish me, always.

The memory mocked me, a bitter echo in the vast, silent room.

I remembered giving up my acceptance to a prestigious design school in Milan, all to be his wife. I remembered my brother Dante's warning.

"He's from a lesser house, Lia. His ambition will be a hungry beast.

Be careful it doesn't devour you."

I hadn't listened. I'd been blinded by the man he was then-or rather, the man I thought he was.

The one who brought me sunflowers because he knew they were my favorite, the one who held me all night after my mother passed. That man was gone, corrupted by power and the desperate need for an heir.

After the last remnants of my old life had been packed and sent away, I packed a single suitcase for myself.

That evening, Marco returned.

He wasn't alone. Two of his armed guards flanked him, their presence a stark reminder of his new status, and he carried several large, velvet-wrapped boxes from the city's most expensive jeweler.

A young maid, seeing the boxes, smiled at me.

"Mr. Bellini, you've brought such lovely gifts for the missus."

Marco didn't spare me a glance.

"They're for Bianca," he corrected her, his voice cold.

A laugh, devoid of any warmth, escaped my lips.

"You're so good to her."

"It's to make up for the harm you caused," he shot back, his jaw tight with barely suppressed fury.

"And for your information, the baby is fine. No thanks to you."

He set the boxes down, then crossed his arms, his posture radiating accusation.

"Why are you targeting her, Lia? What do you hope to achieve?"

I looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw only a fool.

"And you?" I challenged, my voice dangerously soft. "Do you truly believe a woman like that will just hand over your son for a paycheck and walk away?"

"I'll set her up in a house," he promised, as if that simple declaration solved everything.

"I'll provide for her. She won't want for anything."

He made it clear, without needing to say the words, that he had no intention of cutting ties.

The realization suffocated me: he wanted it all. A wife at his side for appearances, and a mistress with a bastard son on the side.

The perfect Bellini dynasty.

"Do as you wish," I said, my voice hollow, utterly devoid of emotion.

There was nothing left to fight for.

He seemed to interpret my surrender as a victory.

"Good. I'm going to pick Bianca up from her friend's house.

I've arranged a driver to take you to the Coashire Hotel charity auction tonight. They have a jade piece I think you'll like.

I'll buy it for you as a replacement."

He truly believed he could replace my mother's legacy with a mere price tag.

I turned to the maid, my gaze steady.

"Please have all these new boxes delivered to Miss Sugden's room."

Then, I met my own eyes in the ornate mirror, a stranger looking back at me.

"And Maria," I said, my voice now a shard of ice, cutting through the silence.

"Find me a gown. I'm going to the auction."

My heart was no longer breaking; it had hardened into a stone.