Rosa didn’t know when she had fallen asleep from exhaustion, but when she woke, the sun was shining bright in the sky.
She wanted to get up, but a heavy arm draped around her stopped her.
She saw Luciano still asleep on his stomach, one arm possessively wrapped around her.
Carefully, she removed his arm and slid out of the bed, wincing silently at the pain in her body.
She turned her head and threw a furious gaze at her mafia ex-husband.
He was truly a feral beast.
She gathered her clothes from the floor and dragged her aching body to the bathroom, only to be shocked by her reflection in the mirror.
God, her whole body was stained blue and purple with hickeys, and her lips were swollen and cracked from his bites.
She shook her head, knowing this was inevitable—she had signed a deal with the devil.
God, please make me pregnant soon, so I don’t have to endure this monster’s cruelty, she whispered, closing her eyes.
She set the water temperature and stepped into the shower, letting the warm cascade soothe her aching muscles.
Soon, she dried herself and dressed silently.
But before leaving the room, she glanced once more at the sleeping beast, sprawled as if he held the whole world in his hands and had nothing to worry about.
As she stepped out of the room, her eyes fell on the familiar surroundings.
She paused near the upper landing and glanced around from above.
She had lived here once—for six months—and everything looked exactly the same.
Somewhere deep in her heart, memories of the past surged back, both good and bad, overwhelming her.
She forced herself to move, quickly descending the stairs without looking back.
When Luciano woke up, he found the bed beside him empty.
“So she was in a hurry to leave,” he growled to himself.
“She only cares about money—nothing else.
I worked so hard last night, and she wasn’t even impressed enough to stay a little longer.” His teeth clenched in irritation.
“I work only at night,” he mocked, mimicking her voice with cruel sarcasm.
“Night’s over, and she disappeared, huh?”
His eyes darkened.
“But my name is Luciano Mancini.
The world trembles at the sound of it—and she will remember it too.
She couldn’t leave without my permission.”
The fact that she had slipped away silently bruised his ego more than he cared to admit.
He failed to realize that he had given her no reason to stay—only enough pain to ensure she never would.
He walked to the cupboard, grabbed a robe, and slipped it on before heading downstairs toward the kitchen.
He needed coffee.
Luciano had many enemies, all waiting for the first chance to kill him, so he kept no permanent staff for cooking or cleaning.
He cooked for himself.
For cleaning, he ordered his assistant to bring in temporary staff once or twice a week, ensuring they worked only under his watchful presence.
Sometimes, his mother came by to clean the house herself.
When he passed through the dining area on his way to the kitchen, he was surprised to see breakfast prepared—covered and neatly set on the table.
“Who made this?” he muttered, a deep furrow forming between his brows.
Then his eyes landed on a folded piece of paper placed beside the breakfast bowl.
Luciano picked up the note and unfolded it.
His jaw clenched hard as the words came into view.
I made you breakfast.
You’ll need more energy. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Last night was very dull.
His fingers tightened around the paper, crushing it in his fist as his teeth ground together.
“That woman is asking for a death wish,” he growled.
Rosa entered the hospital in an anxious state.
After leaving her baby boy alone the whole night, she hadn’t been at peace for even a moment.
Her heart felt restless, beating unevenly with worry.
She saw Lucy coming out of Renzo’s hospital ward, closing the door silently behind her.
“How’s he?” Rosa asked, her voice desperate, her eyes still fixed on the closed door.
“He’s sleeping now, but he was in pain the whole night.
They had to give him sedatives because he couldn’t rest,” Lucy explained.
Rosa’s heart clenched, her eyes instantly filling with tears.
She shook her head and hurried to enter the room, desperate to see her son.
Lucy followed her quietly.
Rosa stopped beside Renzo’s bed.
He looked so beautiful while sleeping, but the strain of the pain still rested on his tiny face.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead.
A tear slipped from her eye and fell on his cheek, which she gently wiped away with her trembling hand.
Her heart overflowed with love as she looked at his small face—so small, so vulnerable, yet already carried a hint of his father in his features.
“Where were you, Rosa?
The whole night?” Lucy whispered, standing beside her.