In the year I believed in pure love, Matteo Bianchi broke into the hotel and crippled the man who tried to rape me. Although he wasn’t heavily punished, the act left a mark on his life. The heir of a rich family was then driven from home and fell into a life of street thugs.
At the worst moments, I held Matteo and cried, asking if he regretted what he had done. He only smiled with affection.
His response was, “How could I regret it? Your innocence matters more than my life!”
He continued, promising, “I will be loyal to you for the rest of my life. If you’re safe, all the suffering will be worth it!”
Matteo continued to fight fiercely to protect me. In doing so, he also rose to power. Everyone knew I was Mr. Bianchi’s favored one, untouchable and safe from harm.
On our wedding anniversary, I opened his safe and found a thick stack of papers. It was pregnancy test results, kindergarten admission notices. It turned out that he had fathered a child without telling me.
Matteo did not try to explain. He cut off the hand of the bodyguard right in front of me, threw the severed hand at my feet and raised an eyebrow.
“If you can’t even keep your things safe, this hand is useless!” he shouted coldly.
I laughed coldly and slammed a divorce agreement in his face.
“Stop talking and sign it.”
He only laughed back in response.
“I told you. We’ll never divorce!”
“You can leave, do whatever you want. But I’ll see if you dare to kill me!”
——
“In this life, we’ll belong to each other and be buried together,” he said.
That was the promise both Matteo and I had made at eighteen. But on that day, I understood that even pure love could rot and even the most beautiful vows could expire. And when things expired, they should be ended.
I pulled a knife hidden under the sofa and stabbed at his neck. Matteo did not dodge. Instead, he stepped forward and met the blade. At the last moment I twisted my wrist and the knife sank into his shoulder.
He smiled, but the hand holding the knife trembled.
“What? Can’t you bring yourself to do it?” he asked.
“Victoria, we’ve come this far. There is no reason to end like this over something small,” he continued.
He said, “That child was an accident. If you don’t want him, I’ll have him sent abroad in a few days.”
An accident, he said?
Five years earlier, enemies had attacked him. I took three of the strikes meant for him. One to my chest, one to my thigh and one that went through my uterus. It took the baby I carried at one month.
The doctor said I might never bear a child again. I did not cry when I read the test results, but Matteo’s eyes had gone red with grief. He knelt before me, weeping, slapping his face until it was swollen.
“Victoria, it’s my fault. I couldn’t protect you!” he cried.
He held me tightly, blood from his forehead dripping onto my face. Even as he shook from pain, he refused to let my hand go.
“Victoria, I don’t want the child. I don’t want anything. I only want you!” he shouted.
“We will never be apart in this life. I will never let you down, even if I die!”
Each word had sounded certain. But that careless certainty broke the last piece of my dignity. I sneered, pulled out a photograph and shoved it into his face.
“Don’t bother. I’ve already fixed your ‘accident.’ I had gone to the kindergarten. It was a nice place, but the security was weak.”
Matteo’s bastard had tears running down his face. He had knelt there with a gun to his head. I watched the veins stand out on my husband’s forehead. In ten years together, he had never shown anger toward me. Now, because of another woman and a child, his eyes held the intent to kill.
Matteo pressed me against the wall, pulled the knife from his shoulder and turned the blade so the tip pointed at my neck.
“How could you attack my child!” he shouted.
“Victoria, have I treated you so well that you’ve forgotten who you are?” he added.
“Without me protecting you, you’d be dead long ago!”
“But now you’ve become too arrogant. You cannot protect your own child, so you attack other children. You are fucking monster! How can you be capable of such a thing?”
Although every word cut me, I kept my face calm and smiled.
“Didn’t you always say if we had to end things, one of us would have to die?” I asked.
“Since no one dared to do it, I’ll ask you myself!”
I shouted, “Kill me now! If I’m not dead, you won’t have a good life!”
However, the blood-stained knife failed to reach my neck. Instead, Matteo met my stubborn eyes, while his smile softened.
“Victoria, I’ve told you that we don’t need to fight to the death because of this,” he said.
After that, he told me, “You decide what to do with the child. I will not ask whether he lives or dies.”
“This matter ends here. Don’t mention it again. Understand?” he ordered.
Matteo was as cold as ever, like the part of me that felt nothing. He did not look back, did not sign the papers and slammed the door as he left. For ten years, I had never ever seen his back until now.
In my memory, he used to run to me through blood and chaos, always shielding me with his body. His back had always seemed firm and sure. But now I noticed a small tremor of worry beneath that strength.
I curled my lips into a bitter smile and called my bodyguard.
“Release him. I’m not cruel enough to harm a child.”
“But I want the child’s mother’s information in ten minutes,” I told him.
Unfortunately, my people found almost nothing. With Matteo’s power, saving someone would have been easy. That was why I could only find a few clues. Those few clues broke the fragile control I had over my feelings.
Five years ago, Matteo was not with me the night I lost my baby. I had thought he had taken his men out to avenge me. He had not.
Instead, Matteo had been only a few steps away. He was with another woman as she gave birth. So, the betrayal had started early.
When my husband had sworn he would never let me down in this life, my body and my heart had already begun to drift apart. I swallowed the sudden pain, gripped the bloodied knife and slashed it through the screen.
Deep love had been broken and only hatred remained between us. Before I could take the child home, the mother was unable to control her anger. Sylvia Bruno came to my door.
The moment she pushed the door open, Sylvia shoved a dagger at my chest.
“Bitch, you touch my child and I will kill you!” she screamed.
I turned my head without thinking. The blade tore through my arm, leaving a long, bleeding wound. Flesh split while the blood poured out.
I pretended not to feel the pain. Then, I grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the doorframe.
My men held Sylvia down until she fell to her knees. That woman did not cry. She just stared at me with fierce eyes. She was truly beautiful, with eyes as clear as the naive me had once been.
The same savage look burned in her face that I now had inside me. It was a pity she had no idea that she could not leave this without paying a heavy price. I picked up a baseball bat leaning against the wall and brought it down hard on her leg.
The sound of breaking bone mixed with her screams, but it gave me no pity.
I enjoyed Sylvia’s agony, treating it like an offering to the love I once held. Before I could strike her a second time, the door burst open with a loud crash. A rush of cold air swept in, carrying fury with it.
The barrel of a black pistol was aimed at me.
Matteo’s voice was ice-cold as he ordered me, “Victoria, release her! Don’t make me turn this into something far worse.”
He held the gun firmly in one hand while pulling Sylvia into his embrace with the other. His eyes were tender with his tone full of reassurance as he told her, “Don’t be scared. I’m here now.”
Those words felt painfully familiar. A decade ago, he had said the exact same thing as he stumbled toward me through pools of blood and chaos. I couldn’t help but laughed until tears fell.
“What if I refuse?” I asked, my voice trembling with rage.
He chuckled coldly in response.
“You’ve already messed with the boy. That should be enough. Let her go, walk away and we can pretend this never happened. That’s the best outcome for both of us.”
I knew Matteo too well to miss the hidden threat behind his calm smile. His voice was soft, but there was true killing intent beneath it. Through all our years together, I had relied on him completely, drowning in his gentleness.
I had almost forgotten how many bodies he had stepped over to reach the throne he now sat upon. Instead of anger, I felt a wave of bitter humiliation. Grabbing his hand, I forced the muzzle of the gun to my forehead.
“Go on, shoot me!” I shouted.
“Matteo, you know my nature. If I walk out of here alive today, you’ll be burying your precious mistress here!”
The sharp sound of a bullet being chambered cut through the room like a blade. Matteo’s eyes turned bloodshot as he clamped his hand around my throat.
“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” he growled.
“I’ll spare the boy, but you will not lay a finger on her!”
“Victoria, don’t push me too far!”
I stared back at him without blinking. To him, my face was like an unreadable mask. The tense standoff was abruptly interrupted by the sharp ring of his phone.
Matteo released me and answered, listening silently. When he hung up, his expression shifted. After that, his features softened once more.
He reached out and gently patted Sylvia’s head, his gaze filled with tenderness.
“The boy is safe. You’ve heard enough today. Let’s leave. Don’t come back here again.”
Sylvia’s eyes were red as she limped toward the exit. She thought she could end everything with just a few simple words. It was far too easy. So, I lifted my chin slightly and my bodyguard immediately blocked her path.
Matteo shot me a cold, cutting glance. After so many years, we could read each other with just a look. Then, he curved his lips into a soft smile and called out to Sylvia, “Come here and apologize to Victoria before you leave.”
Sylvia froze, resentment and grievance swirling in her eyes. But she still obeyed, walking stiffly toward me and dropping to her knees.
She said, her voice trembling, “Miss Morelli, I acted on impulse. I came here without knowing the full truth.”
“It was wrong of me to hurt you … but you’ve also lost a child yourself. You should understand how I feel, shouldn’t you?”
“A mother who can’t even protect her own child is nothing but trash.”
Though it sounded like an apology, her words were cruel. I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with a loud crack.
“The last person who dared speak to me like that is nothing but dust now,” I hissed.
“How many lives do you think you have? How dare you defy me?”
Sylvia covered her face, sobbing like a cornered animal. I sneered and struck her again, the slap echoing through the room. She managed to stay upright, but I staggered and fell to the floor.
Before I could move, Matteo’s foot came down on my hand, pinning me to the ground. His cold indifference was like a stranger’s face.
“I warned you not to touch her!” he shouted.
“Victoria, why must you target someone innocent?”
My cheek throbbed, while the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. My lips curved into a bloodstained smile. Over the years, I had sent at least a hundred souls to their graves without hesitation because of Matteo.
And yet here I was, struck down by the man who had ordered to kill those men for me.
Matteo understood well that I wasn’t someone who surrendered easily, yet he also knew I would never hurt someone truly innocent. Still, he didn’t give me the chance to explain. With a swift kick, he knocked me aside and scooped Sylvia into his arms before storming out.
My bodyguard hurried over to lift me, but my entire body trembled with pain. When I caught his confused gaze, I forced a small, bitter smile. As I turned, he noticed the dagger lodged deep in my back.
It wasn’t Matteo’s slap that had injured me. I wasn’t that weak. When I fell, my body had struck the knife lying on the ground. The doctor later told me the wound had missed my heart by mere inches. If it had been even a little closer, I would have died right there in front of Matteo.
After getting the injury stitched up, I refused to stay in the hospital. Besides, I had endured three knife wounds before. Tasting blood had long since become second nature to me.
When I arrived back at the estate, Matteo was sitting on the living room sofa waiting for me. He lit a cigarette and motioned for me to sit opposite him. Taking a long sigh, he then stared at me with a cold, mocking half-smile.
“My son came home with three broken fingers,” he said slowly.
My eyes shifted toward my bodyguard. He lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. I laughed carelessly, my voice dripping with disdain.
“My man was a bit reckless. So, does Don Bianchi expect me to pay the price with three fingers of my own?”
Matteo’s lips curved into a smile, but it was sharp, like a blade hidden beneath silk.
“Sylvia was so consumed by guilt that she jumped from a building. She survived … but the child she carried did not.”
“Victoria, that was my second child. And you took the child from me. Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”
I snatched the cigarette from his hand and lit one for myself. Through the swirling smoke, my lips curled into a fearless smile.
“You should be grateful I didn’t handle it personally,” I said coolly.
“It was just a fucking bastard. So what if it’s gone? Now you tell me, do you truly expect me to mourn it?”
After that, I signaled for someone to bring the divorce papers again and set them down in front of him.
“Either sign these,” I said coldly, “or one of you dies. Matteo, I trust you don’t need me to explain which choice you should make.”
Matteo didn’t reply. Instead, he smiled and calmly tore the agreement in half. He then turned, pulled out his phone and tossed it onto the table in front of me.
“I knew you wouldn’t apologize,” he said evenly.
“That’s fine. I have a special gift for you instead.”
“Victoria, I’ll have someone pull the oxygen tube from your brother’s throat.”
I froze, my breath caught in my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t even comprehend the words. Then I saw the video playing on his phone. My brother was struggling, choking, fighting for air. The sight hurt my sight, breaking the last piece of my reason.
My only brother had been lying in a hospital bed for three long years. Matteo knew better than anyone why he was there. Three years ago, that night had been pure carnage. Out of everyone Matteo had brought with him, only my brother and I had survived.
They had tied both Matteo and my brother to a massive water tank, over ten meters high and forced me to make a choice. The one I didn’t pick would be lowered into the tank to drown. The one I chose would be saved.
Everyone assumed I would choose my brother. He was my blood, my last remaining family. But my shaking hand had pointed to Matteo. Keeping him alive was my only path forward.
I would never forget my brother’s expression in that moment. It was despair and helplessness, mixed with understanding. There hadn’t been a trace of blame in his eyes.
By the time our men finally arrived and smashed open the water tank, my brother had been underwater too long. His brain had been starved of oxygen, leaving him in a vegetative state.
Matteo had dragged the best doctor in the city to his bedside at gunpoint, forcing him to save my brother. The doctor said recovery was unlikely. But as long as my brother lived, there was hope. Matteo had sworn he would take care of him for the rest of his life.
But now, for another woman, Matteo was ready to destroy that fragile hope himself.
I drew my pistol, aimed it at his head and pulled the trigger. Matteo did not duck at all, so I forced myself to miss the shot. My hands were shaking so badly that the bullet grazed his cheek and left a red line. Matteo lifted his hand and wiped the blood away.
“Victoria, stop trembling if you really want to kill someone!” he shouted.
He then continued, “You don’t have to be so upset. No need for you to hate me.”
“Wrong acts have costs. You killed my child, so I killed your brother. That’s even, isn’t it?” he asked.
How could Matteo dare to talk about evenness? What right did he have to speak like that? He was the traitor. He had thrown me into hell.
Matteo leaned close and brushed the tears from my face with a kiss.
“Victoria, you should be reasonable,” he whispered.
“I won’t sign the divorce, but I will give her a wedding and expose her to the world!” he added.
“You owe her that, so you must repay it!”
Repay? What could he possibly pay me back for what he’d done? He left in such a rush that he did not notice my eyes that had turned red and were burning with hatred.
I had already given him one chance. If divorce was not possible between us, then we would end as widows and widowers. People who betrayed true love did not deserve a good ending!
The wedding arrived sooner than I expected. Before my brother’s body was even cold, an invitation reached me. Sylvia came in person, surrounded by dozens of guards.
“Victoria, why bother with the divorce? Matteo will marry me anyway,” she mockingly said.
“You might have a piece of paper, but I have his heart,” she continued.
While Sylvia’s smile looked sweet and polite, something proud and mocking was lying under it. I did not lift my eyes. Instead, I kept feeding the fish I owned. She quickly snatched the fish food from my hand, annoyed by my calm.
With a proud air, she had a gift box carried forward.
“Well, anyway. Victoria, this is a present I prepared especially for you.”
I opened it and nearly lost my breath. Three blood-stained fingers sat inside. Each was marked with my brother’s unique sign.
“Victoria, don’t you know? Your brother has actually woken up,” she said softly.
“These fingers were cut off while he was alive!”
“He then screamed and begged Matteo to let him see you one last time!”
I smashed the fish tank with my bare hands, grabbed a shard of glass and lunged for her. Her men stopped me. But Matteo truly loved her. After all, he had given her his most capable guards. She watched my rage and helplessness with cruel delight.
Her smile grew wider.
“Victoria, the one who is unloved in a marriage is always the mistress. You have lost everything,” she taunted.
“Do you want to know when you began to lose?”
She leaned close to my ear. My whole body trembled with pain. I already knew the relationship had rotted, but I had not known the truth would cut so deep.
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