Guards rushed in. Guests panicked. Cameras flashed everywhere.
And no one stopped me.
**
Back at the mansion, the maid opened the door with wide, guilty eyes. I didn’t say a word. I walked past her and went straight upstairs to Gabriel’s room.
His scent was still there—soft, innocent, untouched by everything they had turned into rot.
I packed his things slowly. His toys. His worn picture books. His tiny clothes. Each item I held to my chest like I was trying to memorize him through weight alone.
Then I took off my wedding ring and placed it carefully on his pillow.
The maid stood by the stairs, silent, gripping the railing like she might collapse.
I walked past her, down the stairs, and out to my old, rusted car. I got inside and looked at the mansion one last time.
It glittered in the windshield—beautiful, cold, monstrous.
Like a coffin pretending to be a home.
“Goodbye, Vincenzo,” I whispered. “One day, I’ll burn everything you built.”
My phone kept vibrating.
“Come back.”
“You embarrassed me.”
“You ungrateful bitch.”
“If you leave, you’ll regret it.”
I looked at the screen, smiled faintly, and typed back two words:
FUCK YOU.
Then I drove away.
