I let out a satisfactory sigh, the great Matteo had finally hit rock bottom. He was a broken little boy that just lost his balloon. Everything he had built around himself—the power, the control, the cold-heartedness—crumbled the moment he realized he lost something he never thought he wanted: a child.
And me? I wasn’t sad. Not anymore. The little flicker of sadness that had crept into my heart earlier was gone, replaced by a sense of overwhelming peace and control. For the first time since I had been dragged into this nightmare, I had the upper hand.
"Do you need anything else, madame?" the maid asked gently. She was assigned to take care of me during my so-called mourning period. The irony made me want to laugh.
"Just some fruits," I replied.