The old man's face lit up the moment he saw her. His eyes softened with unmistakable fondness, the kind he had never once shown me. His worn wooden rosary sat still in his lap, untouched. When his gaze shifted to the scroll in her hands, his expression grew even more pleased.
She carefully presented it, slowly unrolling the painting.
It was a longevity piece, intricate and elegant, every stroke deliberate and refined. The kind of gift that required time, thought, and understanding of the recipient.
It was obvious.
This wasn't her first time at the compound.
As for me, I stayed where I was, a few steps behind, with no intention of forcing myself into a place I didn't belong.
Don Salvatore had never liked me.
In his eyes, I was the woman who had schemed her way into Dante's life, the orphan ward who had "tricked" the heir into a blood-bound union. That belief had taken root long ago, and no matter what I did, it had never changed.
So I stopped trying.
The painting was large, its silk surface catching the light as Liliana carefully held it up. She adjusted her position slightly, then stepped back, wanting Don Salvatore to take in the full view.
I noticed the movement and instinctively shifted to the side, trying to give her space.
But she moved faster.
Too fast.
Her shoulder collided directly into me.
There was no time to react.
With a startled cry, she stumbled backward, her balance completely lost. The next second, she fell down the stone steps of the estate entrance, the painting slipping from her grasp and tumbling with her.
The delicate silk tore the moment it hit the ground.
Right down the middle.
The sound was sharp. Final.
Two soldiers near the entrance stiffened but didn't move. No one moved without the Family's word.
Dante reacted instantly.
"Lily!" he shouted, rushing forward without hesitation.
He dropped to her side, his hands already reaching for her, his entire focus on her as if nothing else existed. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"
Liliana clutched her arm, her brows furrowing as if in pain. She let out a soft wince, her breathing uneven.
But her eyes…
Her eyes were fixed on me.
She didn't say a single word.
She didn't have to.
That look alone was enough.
Dante turned.
His expression had completely changed, anger flashing across his face without restraint. His signet ring had gone perfectly still against his finger.