She Was the Stain He Couldn't Erase

My husband, Don Augusto Marchetti, was obsessed with cleanliness to the point of madness.

One night, because I had come home exhausted and collapsed onto the bed without washing away the dirt from the streets, he grabbed me and shoved me into a tub filled with disinfectant.

That single act destroyed everything.

I lost our child.

Lying in a pool of blood, barely conscious and trembling from the pain, I called him again and again. I begged him to send a doctor from the Familys private clinic. I begged him to come save me.

But he was not with me.

He was sitting in a filthy roadside diner, carefully treating a tiny cut on his first loves hand.

For her, he lowered his head with endless patience, gently wrapping gauze around a wound that barely mattered.

For me, the woman carrying his child, he only said coldly through the phone, Endure it. Its just a sterilization process.

Those words became the last trace of warmth I ever expected from him.

With the last of my strength, I dragged my broken body away and saved myself.

At the Familys private clinic, I lay alone in the operating room, crying for the child I had lost. No one came. No one told him. Or perhaps he simply did not care enough to know.

After that, I had nothing left.

Yet Augusto still took away the position I had fought for inside the Familys operation and handed it to the woman he had always protected.

Later, when I was trapped beneath a mountain of blood-debt and had nowhere else to turn, I went to him for help one final time.

He refused me without hesitation.

A single careless accusation from the woman he loved was enough to make him abandon me completely.

They forced me into the sea, and the world believed I had died.

But I was still alive.

Hidden beneath a new name, I watched everything from behind the dark glass of a car.

I watched Augusto Marchetti kneel before my grave.

I watched him shatter a bottle of disinfectant against the stone, press the broken glass into his own chest, and pour the same liquid that once destroyed me over his body.

The man who once treated me like something unclean was now consumed by his own madness.

And I watched silently, buried beneath a name he would never recognize.

Miss Colombo, my condolences. Youre still young. You can have another child.

The nurses gentle voice struck Serafina Colombo like a blade.

For a moment, she couldnt move.

The child had arrived so suddenly, and left even faster.

She still couldnt accept that a tiny life had once existed inside her, that she had carried a four-month-old heartbeat, only for it to vanish without ever seeing the world.

Serafina lay on the clinic bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Her body was numb, but the tears kept falling.

They slipped silently from the corners of her eyes, soaking into the pillow beneath her.

On her phone screen was a photo sent by Ceciliana Montanari two hours earlier.

In the picture, Augusto was kneeling beside Ceciliana.

The expensive fabric of his trousers was stained with dust and grime from the roadside, yet he didnt seem to care. His attention was entirely focused on the small wound on Cecilianas leg as he carefully applied iodine to it.

The place was a run-down roadside diner hidden away from the city.

The wooden chairs were cracked, the concrete floor was covered in dirt, and flies circled lazily around the open windows.

A place where no member of the Family would ever willingly step into.

Yet Augustos spotless white shirt stood there, completely out of place.

Serafina stared at the photo for a long time.

Then, slowly, she began to remember everything that had happened that day.

Her stomach pain had returned.

At first, she thought it would pass.

She had endured it many times before.

But this time, even the medicine did nothing.

She knew how much Augusto hated dirt and disorder. She knew his obsession with cleanliness had reached an extreme.

But the pain was unbearable.

That was when Augusto happened to return home to retrieve documents needed for a Family meeting.

The moment he entered the room and saw her lying on the bed, his expression darkened.

Youre still wearing the clothes you wore outside?

His voice held no concern.

Only anger.

You went into the city, walked through all that dirt, and came home without washing?

You know the rule. Dont lie down before you clean yourself.

Serafina wanted to explain.

She wanted to tell him she was in pain.

But she didnt even have the strength to speak.

Cold sweat covered her forehead, sliding down her pale face.

Augusto didnt notice.

Or perhaps he simply chose not to.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the bathroom.

The sharp smell of disinfectant immediately filled the air.

It burned her nose and eyes.

Serafinas fingers brushed over the seashell pendant around her neck, the only thing she had always considered truly hers.

Then her hand slowly fell.

Get inside and disinfect.

Augustos voice was cold and unquestionable.

She opened her mouth to protest.

But another wave of pain tore through her body.

Her vision blurred.

Before she could steady herself, Augusto lifted her and pushed her into the tub.

The cold liquid surrounded her.

The sting spread through her skin.

She struggled weakly, trying to sit up.

But Augusto only looked at her with impatience.

If you still want to stand beside me in the future, endure this.

His voice lowered.

If you cant even handle something this simple, dont forget what happened before.

Serafinas face instantly changed.

She shook her head desperately.

Dont

She couldnt let him say it.

That memory was the wound she had never healed from.

And Augusto knew exactly where it hurt most.

He always knew how to use it against her.

She didnt know how long she remained in that tub.

The pain grew stronger.

The burning sensation spread through her body.

Then she saw the water slowly turn red.

Blood.

Her blood.

Panic finally overwhelmed her.

Her trembling fingers wrapped tightly around the seashell pendant at her throat.

The only thing she could still hold onto.

Augusto

Her voice was weak.

Help me

But the only response she received was his voice from the phone.

Youre injured? Is it serious?

A moment later, his tone softened.

Im coming now.

Then came the sound of the door closing.

Hard.

Final.

Dont go

Serafina reached out.

But her hand fell before she could touch anything.

With the last bit of strength left in her body, she dragged herself out of the bathroom.

She had to save herself.

She had to save her child.

But she was too late.

Now, back in the clinic, Serafinas trembling fingers enlarged the photo again and again.

She searched desperately for a mistake.

A detail that could prove she was wrong.

That the man in the picture wasnt Augusto.

But then she saw it.

The faint scar on his wrist.

A scar she knew better than anyone.

Her heart stopped.

Since Ceciliana returned to their territory, Serafina had endured countless provocations.

She had ignored the whispers.

She had tolerated the comparisons.

She had believed Augusto would never truly abandon her.

But this photo destroyed the last piece of hope she had left.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably.

The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.

Her chest felt as if someone had torn it open.

The pain spread through every bone in her body.

She called Augusto.

Again.

And again.

But every call ended with the same cold mechanical message.

The number you dialed is temporarily unavailable

Serafina closed her eyes.

She couldnt forgive him.

Not this time.

Not for their child.

Because once, Augusto had been the only person who saved her from darkness.

When her fathers blood-debt nearly destroyed their family and the creditors were preparing to sell her as repayment, Augusto stood between them and her.

For protecting her, the tendons in his hands were cut.

When she was forced to abandon her studies and locked away to wait for a marriage arrangement she never wanted, Augusto broke through the window and took her away.

He worked day and night, struggling to support her, just so she could return to her books.

When he first built his own power within the Family, the first thing he did was clear her familys debt.

Not for profit.

Not for reputation.

Only because he wanted her to live freely.

For seven years, he had been her shelter.

Her salvation.

Her entire world.

But everything changed after Ceciliana returned.

The man who once loved her enough to fight against the world now became the person who hurt her the most.

Serafina could forgive neglect.

She could forgive coldness.

She could even forgive him choosing someone else.

But she could never forgive him for abandoning their child.

She raised her hand to wipe away her tears.

Only then did she realize there were no tears left.

Her heart had already gone numb.

Ignoring the doctors orders, Serafina left the clinic.

In their world, severing a bond was never simple.

Sometimes leaving meant choosing death.

Sometimes cutting away the person you loved most meant cutting away a piece of yourself.

But some ties were never meant to remain.

Not after they had cost her everything.

By the time Serafina returned to the safe house Augusto had prepared for her, night had already covered the city.

The windows were dark.

No lights were on.

Augusto had not returned.

A small sense of relief surfaced in her heart, but it was quickly replaced by a dull ache she could not ignore.

She stepped into the bedroom and slowly smoothed the wrinkles on the bed.

A quiet laugh escaped her.

Augusto had left in such a hurry that he hadnt even cleaned up the room he once treated like a sacred place.

Every corner of this house had once reflected his obsession with purity. Every surface had been wiped spotless, as if the slightest trace of dirt from the outside world was unbearable.

But now, everything was different.

She finally understood.

Ceciliana was the person who mattered most to him.

Serafina stood there for a long time before moving again.

Without expression, she removed the sheets and blankets from the bed and placed them into the washing machine one by one.

Then her eyes fell on the bathtub.

The bloodstains left behind earlier were still burned into her memory.

The water had once been clear.

Then it had turned red.

It looked like a mouth opened by a monster, laughing at her years of patience and sacrifice.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe.

Then she walked over and emptied the tub.

She watched the water disappear, pretending that the pain and memories would disappear with it.

But some wounds could not be washed away.

Serafina returned to the bedroom and opened the photo album that held their past.

The first picture was taken on a beach under the golden sunlight.

In the photo, Augusto was kneeling in the sand, carefully writing the words:

A lifetime for two.

She remembered how happy she had been that day.

She remembered the warmth of his hand holding hers.

She remembered believing that moment would last forever.

But now, the same picture felt like a cruel joke.

Without hesitation, Serafina tore the photo from the album.

Then another.

And another.

Until every memory they had created together was reduced to pieces scattered across the floor.

The couple rings.

The gifts.

The souvenirs they had collected during their years together.

Everything that once carried warmth now felt like a burden.

She threw them all away.

Finally, Serafina opened the drawer and took out a bank card.

The money inside came from years of managing the Familys legitimate businesses and hidden accounts.

Not too much.

Not too little.

Exactly five hundred thousand dollars.

Augusto had once cleared her fathers blood-debt with the syndicates creditors.

For years, she had thought that debt represented his love.

But now she understood.

It had also become a chain around her heart.

A chain that made her feel she could never truly leave him.

Tonight, she was finally removing it.

She didnt want to owe Augusto anything anymore.

Not money.

Not gratitude.

Not love.

The cleanest ending between them was one where no debts remained.

Serafina contacted a cleaning crew and asked them to completely clean the house from top to bottom.

Every corner.

Every trace.

Everything had to be restored to the spotless condition Augusto once demanded.

This was the last thing she would do for him.

After that, she sent him a single message.

Then she dragged her suitcase out of the house.

She never looked back.

Her fingers briefly touched the seashell pendant around her neck.

The last thing connecting her to the past.

Then she let go.

At the roadside diner, Augusto finally turned his phone back on after charging it.

The screen immediately lit up with countless notifications.

More than fifty missed calls.

Over a hundred unread messages.

His brows furrowed as he opened the conversation.

But the first thing he saw was a short message from Serafina.

[Lets end this.]

His expression froze.

He scrolled upward.

The messages above were all from her.

The location of the clinic.

The voice recordings.

Her trembling cries.

Her desperate pleas for him to come.

Her voice carried a fear he had never heard before.

For a brief moment, Augustos heart tightened.

But almost immediately, he dismissed the feeling.

He convinced himself that it was just another way for Serafina to gain his attention.

She had done similar things before.

Hadnt she?

Still, as he looked through the messages again, he had to admit one thing.

He had been too harsh that day.

Since she had finally reached out, perhaps he should stop being so cold.

He took out the small bottle of disinfectant he always carried.

After applying a drop to his fingers, he quickly typed a reply.

[Stop acting stubborn. Ill bring your favorite strawberry cake home tonight.]

His finger hovered above the send button.

Then Ceciliana leaned closer with a playful smile.

Whats wrong? You look distracted. Did you argue with your girlfriend?

Augusto immediately locked his phone screen.

He forced a calm expression.

Its nothing. Just some unnecessary trouble.

The moment the words left his mouth, he froze.

For some reason, every time Ceciliana mentioned Serafina, guilt flashed through him.

Almost as if he had betrayed the person he used to be.

The man who had once loved Ceciliana with all his heart.

Outside the window, heavy rain began to fall.

The sound reminded him of countless nights from the past.

Serafina hated thunderstorms.

Whenever lightning tore through the sky, she would cling to his wrist and refuse to let go until she fell asleep.

Was she afraid now?

Was she hiding beneath the blankets, waiting for him to come back?

The thought appeared before he could stop it.

But he quickly pushed it away.

He didnt want to be the one who cared more.

His finger stayed above the screen for several seconds.

Then he deleted the message.

He told himself she only needed time to calm down.

After a few days, she would realize she couldnt live without him.

She would return like she always did.

After all, he was the Don.

People always came back to him.

Lets go. Ill take you home.

A faint smile appeared on Augustos face.

He removed his coat and placed it over Cecilianas legs.

He looked like a gentleman protecting someone precious.

But he never knew that, while he turned up the cars heat for Ceciliana, Serafina was sitting alone beneath a bus shelter nearby.

Shivering in the rain.

Waiting for nothing.

He had already missed his final chance.

The cold wind cut through her coat, slicing into her skin.

Serafina looked down at her phone.

Only one hundred eighty dollars remained in her account.

With shaking fingers, she searched for the cheapest motel she could find.

Somewhere far away.

Somewhere the Family would never think to search.

The rain soaked through her clothes.

Her breathing became heavier.

A flash of lightning tore across the sky.

She instinctively curled up, fear taking over her body.

The phone slipped from her frozen fingers and fell onto the wet pavement.

Do you need help?

A young man picked up the phone.

He wiped away the mud covering the screen before gently returning it to her.

The familiar voice made Serafinas body stiffen.

She slowly raised her head.

For a moment, she wanted to run.

She forced herself to stand.

But exhaustion overwhelmed her.

The world spun.

And before she could take another step, darkness swallowed her completely.

She collapsed into the cold rain.

Augusto pushed open the door and, as always, reached for the small bottle of sterilizing alcohol placed near the entrance.

He poured a drop onto his fingers and rubbed it carefully into his skin.

The familiar scent filled the room.

Yet something felt wrong.

The house was too quiet.

There were no soft footsteps approaching him.

No gentle sound of slippers dragging across the floor.

Augusto lowered his gaze.

Serafinas little bunny slippers were gone.

Serafina?

Only silence answered him.

His brows tightened as he loosened his tie, a trace of annoyance flashing across his face.

Working late at the collection again?

He knew her too well.

Serafina had always poured herself into the Familys art collection. Even though he had enough wealth to let her live comfortably for the rest of her life without lifting a finger, she had never wanted that.

Once, he suggested she give up the work.

That single sentence had caused their biggest argument.

Serafina had stood in front of him, telling him how much the collection meant to her, how it was not something she could simply abandon.

After that, Augusto never mentioned it again.

He let her keep the world she loved.

Thinking back to the filthy roadside diner from earlier, the sticky tables, the dirty floors, and everything he had touched, discomfort crawled beneath his skin.

He needed to wash.

Immediately.

Without hesitation, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

But when he stepped into the bedroom afterward, something strange caught his attention.

The framed photo on the nightstand had been turned upside down.

Augusto frowned.

He picked it up.

The frame was empty.

His expression changed slightly.

He walked quickly toward the wardrobe.

The few coats Serafina often wore were missing.

For a moment, his heart skipped.

Then he laughed quietly.

Did she run away again to cool off?

He shook his head.

The message she sent earlier came back to his mind.

They had fought before.

She had left before too.

But every time, she came back.

In the end, hadnt he always fixed everything?

A gift.

A few words.

A little patience.

That was enough.

The faint scent of citrus perfume still lingered in the room.

A scent that belonged only to Serafina.

Somehow, it calmed him.

Before long, Augusto fell asleep.

But at 3:40 in the morning, a nightmare dragged him awake.

His clothes were soaked with sweat.

After changing, he instinctively reached toward the other side of the bed.

His fingers touched only cold sheets.

The moment of contact cleared his mind completely.

Serafina never stayed out overnight.

Never.

Even when they argued, she would always be the first to compromise.

She would send him messages.

Tell him where she was.

Tell him when she would return.

But this time, there was nothing.

Augusto grabbed his phone and opened their conversation.

The only message left was:

[Lets break up.]

Nothing else.

His expression darkened.

What did I do this time?

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Was it because he forced her to disinfect herself yesterday?

Or because he ignored her anger afterward?

Since when had Serafina become so unreasonable?

He typed a message.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Deleted it again.

Finally, with impatience, he pressed send.

[Come home when youre finished acting childish.]

The response came almost instantly.

A red exclamation mark appeared.

The message failed.

Augusto froze.

A strange uneasiness spread through his chest.

He called her.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Every call went unanswered.

The cold mechanical voice echoed through the room.

The number you have dialed is currently unavailable

On this stormy night, that voice sounded colder than ever.

Still refusing to believe anything was wrong, Augusto reached toward the bedside lamp.

His fingers touched something beneath it.

A note.

A bank card was placed on top, holding it down.

The words written on the paper were simple.

What I owe you: 500,000.

Only six words.

But the final stroke of the pen had torn through the paper.

Augusto stared at it.

Suddenly, a memory from two years ago returned.

The night the creditors came for Serafinas fathers blood-debt.

The night they cut off her fathers pinky as punishment.

Serafina had knelt on the freezing ground, crying until her voice broke.

Her entire body had trembled.

And he had promised her.

He promised he would never let her face that kind of pain again.

A chill ran down Augustos spine.

He grabbed his phone and immediately called the people handling the Familys accounts.

Serafina?

The person on the other end hesitated.

She came by yesterday.

She cleared her name from the accounts.

Augustos grip tightened.

Panic finally began to spread.

No money.

No position.

No support.

Where could she possibly go?

He searched through his contacts and found a number he had not called in years.

Sorry for disturbing you this late.

His voice was unusually tense.

Is Serafina with you?

After a brief silence, the answer came.

Relief slowly replaced the fear in his chest.

We had a small disagreement.

Ill pick her up tomorrow.

The permission was granted.

A faint smile appeared on Augustos lips.

He had worried for nothing.

He had underestimated her.

There was no way Serafina could truly leave him.

No one walked away from him that easily.

With that thought, Augusto finally closed his eyes.

And slept peacefully.

Meanwhile, Serafina slowly woke to a cold hand touching her forehead.

Her blurry vision gradually cleared.

A familiar face appeared before her.

Dante Ricci.

Augustos old blood-brother.

They had grown up together, fought together, and survived countless battles side by side.

Dont worry.

Dantes voice was calm.

You collapsed suddenly, and your phone was dead. I brought you somewhere safe.

Rest here tonight.

Serafinas body was weak.

Her mind was still heavy.

But the moment she recognized him, caution returned to her eyes.

Her fingers instinctively wrapped around the seashell pendant at her throat.

Dante noticed.

He wanted to say something.

But the words stopped before they left his mouth.

His thumb brushed once over the faded scar on his forearm.

Then he lowered his hand.

Serafina thanked him politely.

Then she lifted the blanket, put on her coat, and prepared to leave.

Youre still too weak.

Dante watched her stubborn movements.

Should I call Augusto to pick you up?

The moment his name was spoken, Serafina stopped.

Her voice was cold.

Were already over.

Please dont mention him again.

After saying that, she walked toward the door.

Dante did not stop her.

Instead, he simply handed her an umbrella.

Take this.

Serafina looked outside.

Rain was still pouring heavily.

Remembering how coldly she had treated him, her expression softened slightly.

Thank you. Ill return it.

Dante placed a card into her hand.

I saw your evaluation of the collection last month.

He paused.

Even without Augusto, your talent is worth recognizing.

Serafina looked down.

The card carried the name of the Ricci Familys gallery.

The same gallery responsible for handling the works of the mysterious artist Arturo.

She hesitated.

Arturo.

A name she had admired for years.

His paintings always carried a strange vitality.

Butterflies breaking free from their cocoons.

Young figures diving into endless oceans.

Every piece seemed alive.

As if the artist wasnt simply painting the world, but revealing hidden emotions buried inside people.

Serafina had always trusted her own understanding of art.

Her judgments had earned respect from many painters who preferred to remain anonymous.

But Arturo was different.

She had never dared to interpret his work publicly.

He never appeared before anyone.

No one outside his inner circle had ever seen his true identity.

Every painting he released carried only one signature.

A single uninterrupted brushstroke.

The Family considered it the only proof of authenticity.

For years, Serafina had dreamed of understanding the deeper meaning behind his paintings.

And now, this might be her only chance.

If you decide, call me anytime.

Dante looked at her.

Or come directly to the gallery.

After a long silence, Serafina accepted the card.

Dante stood by the window after she left.

A cigarette burned between his fingers.

The room slowly filled with smoke.

He picked up his phone and sent Augusto a short message.

[Im back.]

The rain slowly faded into a light drizzle.

Serafina wandered through the empty streets without direction.

She didnt know where she was going.

She only followed the warmth glowing from the small shops along the road, drawn by the scent of freshly baked bread and the steam rising from the windows.

By the time she realized where she was standing, she was already in front of her fathers storefront.

This small shop had always been one of the Familys quieter businesses.

On the surface, it sold ordinary bread and pastries.

Behind the scenes, it carried another purpose.

In the back kitchen, Carlo Colombo was kneading dough and preparing fillings.

When he heard footsteps outside, he didnt turn around.

Its still too early. The pastries arent ready yet. Come back later.

But the person outside didnt leave.

After a few seconds of silence, Carlo finally looked up.

The moment he saw her, he froze.

Then disbelief and joy flashed across his face.

Serafina

He quickly wiped his flour-covered hands on his apron and walked toward her.

He looked nervous, almost like a child who didnt know what to do.

What are you doing here?

Its raining so heavily. Come inside quickly. Youll catch a cold.

Serafina wanted to leave.

Her first instinct was still to turn around.

But her feet refused to move.

She stood there quietly.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Carlo lowered his head.

His thumb rubbed against the back of his hand, picking at his skin.

It was the same habit he had whenever guilt overwhelmed him.

Only then did Serafina notice how much he had changed.

The man who once seemed strong enough to protect the entire family now had silver mixed throughout his hair.

She remembered when she was young.

She had once owned a happy family.

But everything collapsed after her mother became seriously ill.

That rainy night had never left her.

The sound of the door being kicked open.

The debt collectors breaking into their home.

Her mother choosing to end her own life rather than continue carrying the unbearable pressure.

Her aunt dragging her away, demanding she become a bargaining piece for a marriage arrangement.

For years, hatred had lived inside Serafina.

Hatred toward her aunt.

Hatred toward her father.

And most of all, hatred toward the helpless girl she used to be.

But no matter how deep the resentment was, one truth remained.

The man standing before her was her last family.

The only person connected to her by blood.

In their world, blood was the only bond that could never be completely erased.

Serafina finally sighed.

A tired breath.

But to Carlo, it sounded like forgiveness was finally within reach.

He rubbed his hands nervously and looked at her carefully.

Im exhausted.

Serafinas voice was quiet.

I just want to sleep.

Carlos eyes immediately brightened.

Of course. Of course.

He stepped aside quickly.

Ive cleaned your room every day.

I always thought maybe one day you would come back.

Ill wake you when your favorite pastries are ready.

Serafina only responded with a soft hum.

She walked upstairs.

But before disappearing, she glanced back once.

She saw Carlo quickly wipe away the tears at the corner of his eyes.

She turned away.

She didnt want to see anymore.

Her phone rang moments later.

Carlo noticed the sound and immediately lowered the volume, afraid it would disturb her.

Then he walked outside into the rain before answering.

By the time the call ended, his expression had changed.

Pain flashed across his face.

His lips moved slightly.

There were words he wanted to say.

But in the end, he swallowed them.

Only his heavy breathing remained.

Serafina woke to the sound of the old washing machine downstairs.

Her fingers unconsciously touched the card inside her pocket.

The card Dante had given her.

After lying there for a long time, she finally made a decision.

She called.

After applying a little makeup and changing into a pair of heels, Serafina walked downstairs.

Carlo stood by the door.

Dark circles showed beneath his eyes.

He hesitated before speaking softly.

Be careful.

Serafina opened her mouth.

But no words came.

After a moment, she simply nodded.

Carlo watched her leave.

He didnt turn away until the car disappeared from sight.

At that exact moment, Augusto arrived.

He stepped out of his car, wiping his hands with a disinfectant cloth.

As usual, he carefully cleaned every finger.

A drop of sterilizing alcohol crossed each knuckle.

He walked past the vehicle leaving the street.

Separated by only a car window.

He never saw her.

She just left?

Augusto looked toward the disappearing car.

He covered his nose with a handkerchief, frowning at the dust left behind.

Dantes message still lingered in his mind.

Something felt wrong.

In their world, survival depended on sensing danger before it arrived.

The silence before violence.

The calm before bloodshed.

Augusto was about to ask Carlo to pass a message to Serafina.

Then his phone rang.

Ceciliana.

Arturos gallery is searching for a new curator again.

Her voice carried excitement.

I was so disappointed last time because I missed meeting him when he was sick.

This time, I cant miss it.

Youll come with me, right?

Augusto answered without hesitation.

Of course.

With the Montanari family supporting her, obtaining the position would not be difficult.

But that was not the reason he agreed.

What he enjoyed was the feeling of being needed.

Meanwhile, inside the gallery.

The atmosphere was quiet and elegant.

This was one of the Ricci Familys most important fronts.

Here, wealth moved through paintings instead of weapons.

Every brushstroke carried hidden value.

Dante sat across from Serafina, carefully reading her proposal.

Bound by the cocoon, expressing a free soul.

His finger tapped lightly against the table.

His voice was calm.

But the moment Serafina heard those words, her body froze.

Memories returned instantly.

The curator selection.

The competition between her and Ceciliana.

The final vote that had ended in a tie.

The final decision had belonged to the silent investor.

Augusto.

She remembered the day she handed him her proposal.

She had spent countless nights studying Arturos work.

Every painting.

Every hidden meaning.

Every possible interpretation.

She had rewritten the proposal again and again, hoping to create something perfect.

She knew she was being selfish.

She hoped that even if Augusto tried to remain fair, a small part of him would still choose her.

But he didnt.

He chose Ceciliana.

His cold announcement destroyed everything.

Cecilianas laughter.

The whispers around them.

The mocking voices.

So fair-minded.

You just dont want your precious Ceciliana to work too hard, right?

Augusto accepted those praises calmly.

His eyes never left Ceciliana.

That was the first time Serafina walked away without caring about his feelings.

Later, when Augusto found her, he didnt apologize.

He didnt comfort her.

He only said:

Shes more suitable than you.

The memory still burned.

Her anger surged.

And just as a cup of hot coffee nearly spilled onto her clothes, Dante reached out and steadied it.

Careful.

He handed her a tissue.

Serafina quickly thanked him.

She looked down at the stain and frowned at herself.

Dante noticed her discomfort.

Someone will clean it soon.

Dont worry.

Then he returned to the proposal.

Your interpretation of Arturos work is different.

But it is also the closest to what he wanted to express.

I believe this exhibition is in capable hands.

Serafinas eyes stung slightly.

So this was what genuine recognition felt like.

Not because of her relationship with someone.

Not because of her family name.

Simply because of her ability.

During the gallery tour, the pain in her feet gradually worsened.

The heels had already rubbed her skin raw.

When no one noticed, she quietly bent down and pressed her swollen ankle.

At the end of the hall stood the final piece.

A painting hidden behind a deep red curtain.

Dante slowly pulled the curtain aside.

Serafina noticed a faint scar on his wrist.

A thin mark left by a sharp object.

His thumb brushed over it once.

Then stopped.

This is the centerpiece of the exhibition.

Arturos unreleased work.

Breaking Net.

The canvas revealed golden-white roses blooming across the surface.

Fine golden threads extended from the petals, spreading outward like a beautiful cage.

In the corner was a single unbroken brushstroke.

The signature only the Family recognized.

The only proof of Arturos identity.

Why is it called Breaking Net?

Serafina asked.

Dante didnt answer.

He only smiled.

Look closer.

Serafina frowned and stepped forward.

She adjusted the angle of the spotlight.

When the light shifted, dark green vines slowly emerged from beneath the roses.

They wrapped around the flowers.

Hidden branches stretched through the gaps.

A trapped beauty.

A struggle for freedom.

Dante looked at her with admiration.

It seems choosing you for Arturos exhibition was the right decision.

Before Serafina could answer, a cold voice suddenly cut through the quiet room.

Serafina?

Augustos footsteps stopped for the briefest moment when he saw Serafina.

His eyes locked onto her.

Only one day had passed, yet she looked different.

Thinner.

More fragile.

The exhaustion on her face was impossible to hide. Even the careful makeup she wore couldnt completely cover the weariness in her eyes.

Serafina was equally surprised.

She had never expected to see Augusto here, inside this quiet gallery belonging to the Ricci Family.

What are you doing here?

Augusto walked toward her, his voice low and demanding.

Serafinas expression remained calm.

What does that have to do with you?

She stepped back, deliberately creating distance between them.

Her eyes were no longer filled with dependence or affection.

They were cold.

Strange.

That unfamiliar gaze pierced straight through Augustos chest.

Before he could speak, Dante moved.

He stepped between them, blocking Augustos path.

Apologies, Don Marchetti.

His tone was polite, but his meaning was clear.

The gallery is closed. We are no longer accepting visitors tonight.

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

Cecilianas smile faded slightly.

She placed a hand against her collarbone before gently holding Augustos arm.

Werent we here to discuss the touring exhibition?

Augustos jaw tightened.

He forced himself to look away from Serafina.

Hmm.

Ceciliana lifted her chin.

Her confidence returned.

Signor Ricci, I heard Arturo is preparing a tour across the Old World.

The Montanari Family would be honored to participate in the curation.

Dante glanced at Serafina.

The curator has already been chosen.

Miss Colombos understanding of Arturos work perfectly matches his vision.

Augustos expression changed instantly.

His hands clenched at his sides.

When was this decided?

Just now.

Dante answered casually.

A faint smile appeared in his eyes.

Augusto forced himself to remain calm.

He cleared his throat.

Serafina has never managed an exhibition overseas.

Giving her responsibility for a tour of the Old World may be too much.

It would be better to choose an experienced team familiar with that environment.

Ceciliana covered her lips and laughed softly.

Isnt Serafina the one who just left her previous position?

An independent curator leading such an important exhibition abroad

She shook her head.

Sometimes talent isnt the only thing that matters.

Connections and protection can make a much bigger difference.

Dante ignored the hidden insult.

True ability has nothing to do with background.

I trust Miss Colombo completely.

Then he took out a document from his jacket and handed it directly to Serafina.

Come to Beaumont.

Arturo personally approved your interpretation.

He named you as the person responsible for this tour.

Serafina froze.

Dante continued.

From now on, you will oversee the entire arrangement.

Then his gaze shifted toward Ceciliana.

More specifically, toward the bracelet on her wrist.

As expected of something unique.

The Montanari matriarch truly treasures her daughter.

Even the engraving says to my love.

A gift like this is impossible to replace.

Cecilianas fingers trembled slightly.

She quickly hid her hand behind her back.

Her smile remained perfect.

Almost.

Its just a simple bracelet.

Youre exaggerating.

But the slight stiffness in her expression revealed the truth.

Serafina lowered her eyes.

Then, without hesitation, she signed the agreement.

She handed it back to Dante.

The moment Augusto saw that, his expression darkened.

He slowly took out a sterilizing wipe.

One motion.

Then another.

He carefully cleaned his hands before reaching toward her.

He grabbed her wrist.

Come home with me.

Serafina immediately struggled.

Let go.

She forcefully pulled her hand away.

Don Marchetti, have some dignity.

Serafina.

Augustos fingers tightened.

His knuckles turned white.

Stop making this into a scene.

Do you really need to embarrass me in front of everyone?

Dantes voice turned cold.

Take your hand off Miss Colombo.

Youre making her uncomfortable.

Augustos eyes sharpened.

This is between me and her.

It has nothing to do with you.

But Dante stepped forward.

He grabbed Augustos arm and pulled him aside.

His voice lowered.

Dont forget, Augusto.

If I had returned sooner, I would be the one standing beside her now.

His thumb brushed over the old scar on his forearm.

A trace of guilt flashed through Augustos eyes.

But he still refused to let go.

You made your choice.

So who is responsible for that?

The tension between them reached its peak.

Then suddenly, Serafinas heel snapped.

Her body lost balance.

She fell forward.

Dante reacted immediately.

He caught her before she hit the ground.

At the same moment, his thumb stopped against the scar on his wrist.

Let go of her!

Augustos voice turned harsh.

But before anything else could happen, Ceciliana suddenly gasped.

Ah

She raised a hand to her forehead.

Her body swayed.

I feel dizzy

Augusto turned instantly.

Without hesitation, he released Serafina.

He rushed toward Ceciliana and caught her.

What happened?

Meanwhile, Dante kept one hand steady around Serafinas arm.

Are you hurt?

Serafina shook her head.

Thank you.

She quietly removed her broken heels and held them in her hand.

Augusto supported Ceciliana while looking back at her.

His voice was cold.

Come with me now.

Ill pretend nothing happened.

But if you refuse

His eyes darkened.

Then we are truly finished.

Every word cut into Serafina.

But she forced herself to stand straight.

She lifted her chin.

We were already finished.

There is nothing left between us.

She looked at Ceciliana.

Go take care of Miss Montanari.

Ceciliana tightened her grip on Augustos sleeve.

Augusto

Her voice was soft and weak.

Im tired.

Take me home.

Augusto immediately nodded.

The tenderness in his expression was something Serafina had never received.

Not even once.

Before leaving, he looked back at her.

His gaze was sharp.

Almost threatening.

Dont regret this.

Then he walked away with Ceciliana.

Only after their figures disappeared did Serafina finally release the breath she had been holding.

All her strength seemed to leave her body.

Are you all right?

Dantes voice came gently.

Serafina forced a small smile.

Im fine.

I guess today just wasnt a good day for heels.

Wait here.

Dante turned and left.

A few minutes later, he returned with a shoebox.

I noticed your shoes were hurting you earlier.

So I found something more comfortable.

He opened the box.

A pair of simple flat shoes rested inside.

Without hesitation, Dante crouched down.

Ill help you put them on.

Serafinas face immediately turned warm.

She stepped back.

No need.

I can do it myself.

Dante didnt insist.

He only extended his arm.

Then let me help you stand.

Serafina hesitated.

Then she lightly held onto him.

She changed into the flat shoes.

The soft soles wrapped around her feet perfectly.

For the first time in a long while, she felt comfortable.

Safe.

They fit?

Dante asked.

Serafina lowered her eyes.

Theyre perfect.

Thank you.

Warm tears suddenly slipped down her cheeks.

She was crying.

Because of a pair of shoes.

But she knew why.

She remembered the old Serafina.

The girl mocked by Augustos men because she was too short to keep up with his pace.

The girl who always followed behind him.

The girl who smiled at gifts she didnt like just because she wanted peace.

The girl who once fought against every injustice without fear.

The girl who ran barefoot through the grass.

The girl who loved anything bright and beautiful.

That was who she used to be.

The real Serafina.

Only now did she understand how much Augusto had changed her.

He had slowly erased her boundaries.

Broken down her pride.

Then rebuilt her into the person he wanted.

A woman who depended on him.

A woman who forgot how to breathe without him.

A woman trapped in endless sadness.

But now

A small sense of relief appeared in her heart.

At least she had found herself again before it was too late.

The work here is finished.

Dante turned away.

Go home and rest.

He walked ahead.

Quietly.

Protecting her from behind.

Protecting the fragile part of her that she had finally begun to reclaim.

When the news came from the Ricci art division that she had been selected, Serafina pressed her phone against her chest, unable to believe what she had just heard.

The opportunity to work with Arturos collection, the artist she had admired for years, and to oversee his works as they traveled through the Old World, felt almost unreal.

For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was standing beneath sunlight again.

But before she could fully enjoy that feeling, a cold message appeared on her screen.

[Take your belongings before 8 a.m. tomorrow. I wont wait after that.]

The words struck her harder than she expected.

Serafina leaned against the window of the bus, staring at the message.

Her finger hovered over the screen.

There was only one person in the entire city who would still be able to send her messages after she had blocked every possible way of contacting her.

Augusto.

No one else had that kind of arrogance.

Without hesitation, she replied.

[Throw them away.]

After sending it, her chest tightened.

The air around her felt heavy.

Bitter.

She got off the bus one stop earlier than planned.

She needed to walk.

She needed the cold air to clear the chaos inside her.

But as she moved through the quiet streets, she slowly noticed something.

Footsteps behind her.

Soft.

Careful.

Yet impossible to ignore.

Serafina stopped suddenly and turned around.

The alley behind her was empty.

Only a stray cat slipped past the corner, disappearing into the darkness.

She stood there for a moment before continuing.

When the familiar light of her fathers storefront finally appeared ahead, she quietly released a breath of relief.

But before she could reach the door, a hand suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into the shadows.

Did Dante tell you anything?

Augustos hands locked around her shoulders.

His grip was so tight it hurt.

It felt as if he wanted to crush every bit of distance between them.

Serafina frowned in confusion.

What are you talking about?

The pain made her instinctively struggle.

Are you crazy?

Augusto stared at her face.

He searched for any sign that she was lying.

But when he realized she truly knew nothing, the tension in his expression slowly eased.

Without saying anything, he reached inside his coat.

He took out a small bottle.

A drop of sterilizing alcohol fell onto his hands.

Slowly.

Carefully.

He wiped the exact places where he had touched her.

As if he needed to erase the trace of her skin.

Serafina watched silently.

Her heart felt colder than before.

The Arturo exhibition.

Augustos voice remained firm.

Dont accept it.

Ill pay whatever compensation is required for breaking the agreement.

Serafina looked at him.

Why?

Her voice was quiet.

Why should I?

Your body has only just recovered.

Youre not ready for something this exhausting.

Augusto paused.

Ceciliana is more suitable.

For a moment, Serafina couldnt believe what she was hearing.

Was he pretending to worry about her?

Or was he simply clearing the way for Ceciliana to take another thing that belonged to her?

The anger in her chest burned.

Let me make this clear one last time.

We are over.

You have no right to decide my future anymore.

Augustos expression changed.

He had always been able to push her to the edge with a single sentence.

But this time, she didnt break.

Instead, she looked at him with disappointment.

Why did you suddenly leave me?

His fingers tightened around her shoulders again.

It cant only be because I asked you to clean yourself before bed.

I did that because I cared about you.

The memory returned instantly.

The cold water.

The sharp smell of disinfectant.

The blood.

The fear.

The moment she called him and waited for him to save her.

Serafinas eyes reddened.

She interrupted him.

Do you know that I almost died that day?

In that disinfectant you claimed was for my own good?

I was lying there waiting for you.

Calling you.

Begging you.

And where were you?

Augustos expression froze.

A trace of guilt crossed his eyes.

For the first time, he couldnt answer.

Serafina looked at him.

Do you still not understand?

Her voice trembled, not because she wanted to forgive him.

Because she was exhausted.

You were always selfish.

You never saw me as a person.

You saw me as something that belonged to you.

Someone who would always wait.

Someone who would always forgive.

She swallowed the pain in her throat.

But what I achieved was never yours to control.

Just like now.

You make decisions.

You give orders.

But you never once ask what I want.

Augustos face slowly changed.

You never loved me the way I needed.

You only loved being loved by me.

Thats why you believed you could hurt me over and over again.

Your concern was never about me.

It was just an excuse to take away everything Ceciliana wanted.

Her eyes filled with tears.

I once thought all of this was worth enduring.

Because I loved you.

But now

She looked directly at him.

I dont love you anymore.

And without that

You mean nothing to me.

The words landed like a blade.

Augusto stood frozen.

He could accept anger.

He could accept her crying.

He could accept her accusing him.

But he never imagined Serafina would look at him with such absolute determination.

You were the one who came to me first.

His voice became unstable.

You were the one who said you would never leave.

And now you think you can just walk away?

His eyes turned red.

His hands tightened around her shoulders.

He was losing control.

Serafina felt tears gathering in her eyes.

Yes.

She had loved him first.

Yes.

She had once promised she would stay forever.

But that promise was never permission for him to destroy her.

She pushed him away.

He didnt move.

So she bit down hard on his arm.

Augusto hissed from the pain.

But he still refused to release her.

He pulled her closer.

His voice broke.

Im sorry.

I was wrong.

Please forgive me.

I swear I wont hurt you again.

Tears streamed down Serafinas face.

But this time, she did not surrender.

She stepped back.

She forced herself free from his hands.

You still dont understand what you did wrong.

Youre not afraid of hurting me.

Youre afraid of losing control.

Youre afraid of losing someone who used to obey everything you said.

She stared into his eyes.

The moment you chose Ceciliana

Was the moment everything between us ended.

Augustos pupils trembled.

Those words finally broke through the wall he had built around himself.

His grip loosened for a second.

Only a second.

But it was enough.

Serafina moved.

Her knee struck him hard.

Augusto bent forward from the pain.

She immediately pulled away.

Behind her, his broken voice called her name.

Again.

Again.

But she never turned around.

She only ran.

Farther.

Faster.

Toward a life where she no longer belonged to anyone but herself.

Augusto stood beneath the streetlight, watching Serafinas figure disappear into the darkness.

He did not move.

Not until she was completely gone.

Only then did something inside him finally snap.

A violent wave of anger surged through his chest.

He turned and punched the brick wall beside him.

The impact split his knuckles instantly.

Blood dripped down his fingers.

But for the first time in years, Augusto did nothing.

He didnt reach for the small bottle of sterilizing alcohol he always carried.

He didnt wipe away the blood.

He didnt care.

No one was there to see it.

No one was there to ask why the man who hated even the slightest stain was standing there with his hands covered in his own blood.

His phone vibrated.

A message from Ceciliana appeared.

[Want to have a drink?]

Augusto stared at the screen for several seconds.

His mind was still filled with Serafinas final words.

But his anger was stronger.

He replied.

[Where?]

Not long after, they arrived at one of the Familys private clubs.

It was a quiet place reserved for people with power.

The guards lowered their heads when Augusto entered.

The bartender immediately prepared his usual drink without needing an order.

Ceciliana sat across from him, slowly swirling the wine in her glass.

If you ask me

Shes just been spoiled by you for too long.

Augusto remained silent.

The ice in his glass slowly melted.

Ceciliana continued.

She knows youll always forgive her.

She knows youll always come back.

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

She would never really leave you.

Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

If it wasnt because of you, do you really think she could ever stand against me?

Augusto didnt respond.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

The name displayed on the screen made his eyes narrow.

Serafina.

For a second, his irritation disappeared.

Then a strange confidence appeared in his gaze.

Of course.

She couldnt hold on for long.

She was finally calling him.

Apologizing.

Admitting she was wrong.

Augusto answered.

But there was no voice.

Only the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

His brows slowly furrowed.

Cat got your tongue?

His voice carried a hint of cold mockery.

But on the other end of the call, Serafina was unable to answer.

Her hair was being pulled tightly backward.

Bruno Salvatores hand twisted painfully against her scalp.

She bit down on her lip, refusing to cry.

But a broken sound still escaped.

The man snatched the phone from her hand.

Don Augusto Marchetti?

His voice was rough and arrogant.

Ive heard plenty about you.

The great Don of the Marchetti Family.

He laughed.

But I dont understand one thing.

If youre really that powerful

Why havent you settled your future father-in-laws debt?

A toothpick rolled between his teeth.

Carlo Colombo owes money.

And debts always have to be paid.

Augustos expression changed.

His grip tightened around the phone.

How much?

Five hundred thousand.

Brunos voice was full of amusement.

Cash.

Or dont blame me when things get ugly.

People who owe us money have a habit of disappearing into the sea.

Augustos eyes turned cold.

His bloody fingers tightened.

Let me speak to her.

Let Serafina speak to me herself.

For several seconds, only chaos came through the phone.

Then Carlos desperate voice sounded.

Please

Please dont hurt her

The next second.

A scream.

A scream filled with unbearable pain.

Augustos heart stopped.

Then Serafinas voice came.

Weak.

Shaking.

Broken.

Augusto

My father

He got into trouble again

Please

Her breath trembled.

Please help us.

Ill pay you back.

I promise.

That single word.

Please.

It pierced through every defense Augusto had built.

Hours ago, Serafina had stood before him with cold eyes.

She had told him he meant nothing.

She had walked away without looking back.

But now

She was asking him for help.

She was still turning to him when she had nowhere else to go.

The anger inside him vanished.

Only pain remained.

He opened his mouth.

But before he could answer, Cecilianas hand covered his.

Augusto.

Her voice was soft.

Wait.

How do you know this isnt another trick?

Her fingers briefly touched the bracelet on her wrist.

Then she smiled.

You know better than anyone how much you hate being deceived.

Augusto froze.

But

His instinct told him to go.

To save her.

To find her.

But another voice held him back.

Ceciliana leaned closer.

Her breath brushed against his ear.

Even if its real

If you rush there now, shell only think youll always save her.

She needs to understand fear.

She needs to understand that youre the only person she can rely on.

Through the phone, Serafinas voice continued.

Each word was weaker than the last.

Each plea pulled at his heart.

Ceciliana sensed his hesitation.

She took the phone from his hand.

Were both women.

I understand exactly what shes doing.

If she wants you back, she should just admit it.

Why make everything so dramatic?

Her voice sharpened.

You hate lies more than anything, Augusto.

On the other side, Serafinas breathing became frantic.

I didnt

I didnt lie

Augusto, please

Just this once

For the sake of

Her voice suddenly stopped.

The call went silent.

Augusto stared at the phone.

The unfinished sentence remained hanging in the air.

Then he remembered what Serafina had said earlier.

You mean nothing to me.

Those words cut deeper than anything else.

His finger moved.

He ended the call.

No explanation.

No hesitation.

No goodbye.

The room fell silent.

The liquor burned down his throat.

But it could not erase the image in his mind.

Serafina crying.

Serafina begging.

Serafina needing him.

Again and again.

Almost unconsciously, his hand moved toward the phone.

Ceciliana noticed.

She gently lifted her wine glass and touched it against his lips.

Dont give in.

This is something she needs to learn.

Augustos fingers stopped.

His thoughts were a storm.

After a long silence

He lowered his hand.

And slowly nodded.

Five hours later.

At exactly five in the morning.

The sharp ringing of his phone shattered the silence.

Augusto opened his eyes.

Still half trapped between sleep and reality, he answered.

Hello?

Is this Don Augusto Marchetti?

The voice on the other end was unfamiliar.

Cold.

Official.

Yes.

Who is this?

A strange feeling suddenly climbed up his spine.

This is the district police department.

The officer paused.

Then continued.

We regret to inform you

Miss Serafina Colombo entered the sea last night.

Her body was recovered at approximately one in the morning.

She was pronounced dead at the scene.

Augusto stopped breathing.

The entire world seemed to freeze.

Her final outgoing call

The officers voice continued.

Was made to your number.

We need you to come in and assist with the investigation.