Chapter 3: Jealous Hearts Never Stay Quiet

The moment Vincent walked out of my room, the silence became unbearable.

For years, I had imagined countless versions of this conversation.

In every single one, he stopped me before I walked away.

He confessed.

He told me Isabella meant nothing.

He finally admitted I was more than his little secret.

Instead, he left without giving me a single reason to stay.

I laughed bitterly.

Sometimes silence hurt more than rejection.

That afternoon, I locked myself in my room and began packing.

Not everything.

Just the things that actually belonged to me.

Books.

My mother's jewelry.

A few dresses.

The small music box she had given me before she died.

Every item fit into only two suitcases.

Three years in this mansion.

Three years beside Vincent.

And this was all I could truly call mine.

Someone knocked softly.

"Miss Sophia?"

"Come in."

It was Elena, the oldest maid in the estate.

She had worked for my mother long before Maria entered this house.

"I heard you're leaving."

"News travels fast."

"Is it true?"

"Very."

Her eyes became watery.

"Your mother wouldn't have wanted this."

"My mother wouldn't have wanted many things that happened in this house."

Elena remained quiet.

She knew I was right.

"Will you be happy?" she asked gently.

I looked at the half-packed suitcase.

"I don't know."

"Then why go?"

"Because staying already made me miserable."

Elena sighed before placing a small envelope on the bed.

"Your mother asked me to give this to you when you finally decided to leave this family."

My heart skipped.

"She... knew?"

"She always said one day you'd choose freedom over blood."

After Elena left, I slowly opened the envelope.

Inside was a handwritten letter.

Sophia.

If you're reading this, it means you've finally become brave enough to walk away.

Don't ever stay somewhere you're only tolerated.

Love should never make you beg.

And family should never make you feel unwanted.

Choose yourself, even if nobody else does.

I pressed the paper against my chest.

For the first time in years, I cried for my mother instead of Vincent.

Later that evening, the estate hosted a small dinner for Isabella's return.

Every important member of both families had been invited.

I had no intention of attending.

Unfortunately, Don Romano disagreed.

"You're coming downstairs," he ordered.

"Why?"

"Because appearances matter."

"Only appearances?"

He ignored the question.

"Wear something respectable."

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the ballroom wearing a simple black dress.

Conversations instantly slowed.

People stared.

Not because of me.

Because Vincent couldn't stop looking.

His gaze followed me across the room until Isabella gently touched his arm.

Only then did he look away.

I smiled to myself.

Too late.

A violin quartet played softly near the fireplace.

Champagne flowed freely.

Politicians.

Businessmen.

Family allies.

Everyone acted as though they weren't surrounded by organized crime.

That was the Moretti and Romano way.

Power dressed itself in expensive suits.

"Sophia!"

A cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts.

Lucas Moretti approached with a grin.

Vincent's younger cousin.

"You disappeared for days."

"I was busy."

"Busy avoiding Vincent?"

"Very busy."

Lucas chuckled.

"He's been impossible lately."

"Really?"

"Yesterday he canceled three meetings just to look for you."

"He found me."

"Apparently not in time."

Before I could answer, Isabella joined us.

"Lucas, everyone's waiting for you."

"Already?"

"Afraid so."

Lucas looked between us.

"Behave, both of you."

The second he walked away, Isabella smiled politely.

"Can we talk?"

"Depends."

"I don't want us to become enemies."

"Then you should've stayed away from Vincent."

Her smile faded.

"I never intended to hurt you."

"Intentions don't erase consequences."

"Vincent cares about you."

"Does he?"

"Yes."

"Then why does everyone keep telling me that instead of him?"

Isabella had no answer.

She lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for something you aren't responsible for."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not the reason I'm leaving."

"I'm not?"

"No."

I looked across the room.

Vincent was speaking with several family leaders.

Powerful.

Respected.

Untouchable.

"The reason I'm leaving is because he never asked me to stay."

For a brief moment, guilt flashed across Isabella's face.

"Sophia..."

"Enjoy New York."

I walked away before she could continue.

Near the balcony, Vincent finally caught up with me.

"You've been avoiding me all evening."

"There are over a hundred guests here."

"You managed to avoid only one."

"Congratulations on noticing."

He stepped closer.

"Lucas told me you're packing."

"Lucas talks too much."

"Answer me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm moving."

"You still have two weeks."

"I'd rather not wait until the last minute."

"Sophia."

"Vincent."

"Stop making everything sound like goodbye."

I looked directly into his eyes.

"Because it is goodbye."

For the first time, fear appeared on his face.

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"You're angry."

"No."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because one day I'll wake up beside another man."

His jaw tightened.

"Don't."

"And when that day comes, I don't want to remember how you used to call me Principessa."

"Enough."

"No, Vincent."

"You're hurting yourself."

"I've been hurting for a year."

"That's not true."

"Then where were you on my birthday?"

He froze.

Finally.

A question he couldn't escape.

"I had responsibilities."

"You had Isabella."

"She needed me."

"Exactly."

The words echoed between us.

"She needed you."

"And I didn't?"

Vincent remained silent.

That silence answered everything.

Just then, a waiter accidentally bumped into Isabella across the ballroom.

A wine glass shattered.

Isabella gasped as red wine spilled across her dress.

Without hesitation, Vincent turned away from me.

"Isabella!"

He hurried toward her.

I watched his back disappear into the crowd.

Not once did he look back.

A slow smile appeared on my face.

Strangely, it wasn't painful anymore.

It was freeing.

Because after witnessing him choose Isabella once again...

I finally stopped hoping he'd ever choose me.