Chapter 2
Seraphina's POV
I had barely stepped into the Romano family estate when I heard my father Salvatore's furious roar from his study.
"Seraphina! Get in here now!"
That familiar cold tone. Five years, and the way he spoke to me had never changed.
I pushed open the heavy oak door. Father sat in that massive leather chair, his face livid. Photos from today's meeting were spread across his desk—someone had moved fast.
"What was the meaning of your behavior at today's meeting?" He slammed the table, making the teacup jump. "Isabella's back, shouldn't you step aside voluntarily?"
"Step aside?" I let out a cold laugh. "Why should I step aside?"
"Because she's your sister! Because she's Lorenzo's rightful wife!" Father stood up, pointing at my nose. "You've been like this since childhood, always opposing Isabella!"
That familiar favoritism again. All my life, no matter what Isabella did, I was always the one in the wrong.
"She abandoned Lorenzo. She's the one who ran away." I clenched my fists. "Can't you see what I've done these five years?"
"So what? Blood is thicker than water! She's Marco's real mother," Father's voice grew louder. "Now that Isabella's back, you should know when to bow out gracefully!"
I suddenly remembered that night five years ago.
It was the evening of Isabella's runaway wedding. The entire Romano family was in chaos, the Marchetti family had left, leaving only Lorenzo behind.
I thought the whole farce was over, but Lorenzo came to find me alone.
"Marry me in her place." He cut straight to the point, no preamble.
"Are you insane?" My reaction was immediate. "Why should I clean up her mess?"
Lorenzo loosened his tie, looking utterly exhausted. It was the first time I'd seen him drop his perfect Don mask.
"I need a wife to stabilize the situation." His voice was low, carrying a kind of desperate pragmatism. "And Marco needs a mother. At least a contract is honest—no deception."
His expression shocked me then. Eyes that had completely stopped believing in true love.
"Five years." He continued. "After five years, you get control of the southern docks, I get stable business partnerships. We each get what we need."
He paused, then added: "At least you're coming for profit. You won't suddenly disappear like your sister and make me look like a fool at the altar."
I signed the contract, but not for him—for escape from my family, for a future where I wouldn't need to depend on anyone.
"Sera! Are you listening to me?" Father's voice pulled me back to reality.
"I'm listening." I looked up, my eyes calmer than ever before. "But my answer is no."
"What?"
"I said no." I repeated each word clearly. "I won't step aside, I won't bow out. You know exactly what I've done for the Marchetti family these five years, what benefits I've brought to the Romano family."
Father's expression grew uglier. "Five years, and Isabella's finally back. Do you want me to lose her because of your selfishness?"
The same old manipulation. Using guilt to control me.
But this time was different.
"Then lose her." I stood up, looking down at him. "I'm no longer that obedient daughter. I've proven my worth through ability these five years. If you can't see that, it's your loss."
Father was clearly shocked. He obviously hadn't expected such defiance from me.
"You... how dare you speak to me like this?"
"Why wouldn't I dare?" I turned toward the door. "If Isabella wants to come back, let her fight for it herself. I won't voluntarily step aside for anyone."
I was about to push the door open when I heard the sound of high heels outside.
The door opened.
Isabella stood in the doorway, dressed in expensive European fashion, but up close I could see exhaustion and... panic in her eyes?
"Well, if it isn't my dear sister?" Her voice was still that sickeningly sweet and false tone. "What were you discussing in there so passionately?"
I stared into her eyes. Five years had changed her. Not just her appearance, but something deeper.
"I was discussing your return with Father." I said directly.
"Oh? And how did that go?" Isabella smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sister, do you think you've won?"
"I'm not interested in playing these games with you." I tried to walk around her.
"Wait." Isabella reached out to block me. "I know Lorenzo better than you think. He's always loved me."
My body froze for a moment.
Isabella leaned closer, lowering her voice: "Do you think Lorenzo really sees you as his wife? Or just a convenient... business partner?"
Her words pierced my heart like needles.
But as I looked at her, I suddenly realized something was wrong.
Her hands were injured. Though her voice was strong, her hands were trembling slightly.
This wasn't the behavior of a victor. This was... fear?
"Isabella," I suddenly asked, "what really happened during those five years in Europe? Why are you back now?"
Her expression changed instantly, that panicked look flashing across her face.
"I did very well, thank you for your concern." She answered quickly, then turned to Father. "Dad, I'm hungry. Can we have dinner first?"
She was avoiding my question. She was definitely hiding something.
