"I'm sorry, Catarina…" I whispered, my voice trembling as tears blurred my vision again. "But I can't do this anymore."
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Closer.
"Seraphina?" Enzo's voice called out. "Where are you? The gathering's starting. You need to play the piano for Don."
The Old Don's Christmas Eve dinner. The one night a year when the entire Montecarlo family sat at the same table and pretended to be holy. I was expected to perform, the way I was always expected to perform.
I said nothing.
Not a word.
When the door finally opened, he froze.
"Jesus, Seraphina, what happened to you?"
Blood streaked down my face. My body trembled. Tears slipped silently from my eyes.
"Ask your precious kids," I snapped, the bitterness in my voice sharp enough to cut.
"What… what do you mean?" he asked, confusion flashing across his face. His thumb drifted along the edge of his jaw, that unconscious tell he'd carried since boyhood, already preparing to deflect whatever came next.
I looked at him. Really looked at him.
And for the first time, I felt nothing.
"I want a divorce, Enzo," I whispered.
"I want a divorce, Enzo," I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips, yet feeling heavier than anything I had ever said in my life.
For a moment, he didn't react. He just stood there, blinking at me as if he hadn't heard correctly, as if his mind refused to process what I had just said. Then confusion crept across his face. "What… what are you saying?"
"I'm done," I said again, this time a little steadier, even though my chest felt like it was caving in on itself.
He stepped closer, his brows knitting together in annoyance more than concern. "Is this about the kids? They're just acting out, Seraphina. You know how they are."
A hollow, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Acting out?" I repeated, my voice shaking with disbelief. "They almost killed me."
"They're just kids—"
"They're monsters, Enzo," I cut in sharply, my voice rising despite how exhausted I felt. "And you let them become this."
He opened his mouth, ready to argue, to dismiss me again like he always did, but I lifted my hand, stopping him before he could say another word.