Vincent, the heir to the Romano family, was sterile, but he got the art student I was sponsoring pregnant.
He hid her in an Italian villa until I discovered the truth at their child’s christening.
Vincent handed me divorce papers without a glance. “Sign it, and ten properties are yours.”
I refused, so he kidnapped my sister, dangling her from a crane at an abandoned port.
“Sign, or watch her sink to the bottom of the sea.”
The chains were released, and we both plummeted into the sea and died.
When I opened my eyes again, I signed the papers and vanished with a new identity..
But after I disappeared completely, Vincent began searching for me like a madman…
————————
1
“Madam, we've found the Boss's whereabouts. He's at the Castello Romano villa, where a christening ceremony is taking place.”
The private investigator’s voice came over the phone—the same one from my past life. A shiver ran down my spine. I was reborn.
In my last life, Vincent's whereabouts were always a mystery, and he often stayed out all night.
I hired a private investigator to follow him.
That’s when I discovered that he had bought a castle in Italy a year ago, spending a fortune to convert it into a private villa just to house his secret lover.
My silence prompted the PI to ask, “Madam, aren't you going to take a look? If you go now, you're guaranteed to catch them in the act.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The words slipped out of me instinctively.
The memory of watching Diana drown in the sea right in front of me in my past life made my body shake uncontrollably.
I will never experience that kind of hellish torment again.
“Thank you for your work. From now on, stop following Vincent. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
I handed him a bank draft.
“And don't let Vincent know that I ever investigated him.”
Taking the bank draft, the private investigator was ecstatic, nodding eagerly.
When silence returned to the manor, I slowly rose to my feet and took down our wedding photo from the wall. In the photo, Vincent and I were beaming, our eyes filled with deep affection.
Even though eight years have passed.
I often think back to our wedding day, when Vincent reverently kissed the back of my hand and gently vowed:
“Stella, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I will love only you for the rest of my life.”
But fate had other plans.
Two years after we were married.
We had been unable to conceive. A medical check-up revealed the devastating truth.
“I’m very sorry, but Mr. Romano has a 99% chance of being sterile. You should prepare yourselves.”
We both longed for a child; for us, starting a family was about carrying on the bloodline.
It was, without a doubt, a devastating blow.
For the heir to a Mafia family, being told he couldn't continue his lineage was a fatal blow to his pride.
From then on, Vincent began to drink heavily. Even in moments of passion, as we were tangled together, the doctor's words would come to his mind, and the fire in his eyes would instantly die.
Then he would push me away. “I'm going to take a shower.”
We lived like this for eight years.
Until a family gathering a year ago.
Someone drugged Vincent's drink, and he stumbled into an encounter with Luna, the art student we sponsored.
It was as if the gears of fate had suddenly shifted.
Everything began to spiral out of control. In my past life, Vincent had obsessively awaited the birth of the child in Luna’s womb, desperate for a family, for a bloodline of his very own.
He went so far as to keep her hidden away in secret. When I caught them, he didn’t offer a single word of explanation, just a cold demand for a divorce.
It wasn't until I died that I finally understood.
His heart had long since been given to another woman.
So this time, I wouldn't crash their child's christening.
I even called my lawyer. “Help me draft the divorce papers. Yes, the sooner the better.”
I chose to give them what they wanted.
I thought that this time, as long as I didn't interfere and willingly agreed to the divorce, I could avoid disaster.
But I never expected that, half an hour later, the door would fly open and Vincent would storm in.
“Stella!”
His eyes were crimson as his fingers dug into my chin.
“Speak! What did you do to Luna? Where is she?”