At the age of fourteen, my parents were killed in a shootout.
In memory of them, my brother took our father's surname, Ricci, while I kept our mother's name, Romano.
Later, faced with Antonio's relentless pursuit, I gradually fell for him.
My brother always opposed my relationship with Antonio.
Back then, I was stubborn and believed Antonio was my destined one.
Even when my brother froze all my assets, I still married him.
Six years ago, my brother made a bet with me: "If you hide your identity as the Ricci family princess and your marriage with Antonio survives the seven-year itch, I'll stop interfering."
"I won't say another bad word about him, and I'll even help him."
After agreeing to the bet, I angrily cut ties with my family.
Little did I know, in the sixth year, Antonio would betray our marriage.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late to walk away.
Marco sat at the dinner table, his brows furrowed, silent.