Mr.
Moretti swallowed hard, the color draining from his face.
He understood the warning perfectly.
He said nothing after that.
Keeping quiet was the safest choice.
Luciano leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the desk, fingers steepled together.
His eyes never left Rosa—cold, unblinking—and when he finally spoke, his voice dripped with pure disgust.
“I know exactly how she brought that fake report.
Women like her can do anything for money.
And that doctor?
It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to sign a fake prescription.
The charity fund is for people who genuinely need it—not for some gold-digger who’s willing to crawl into anyone’s bed for it.”
Rosa’s fists clenched at her sides in anger.
He had no right—no damn right—to judge her as a woman when he had slept with everyone he wanted, even while married, just because he had money and power.
But this wasn’t the time for pride.
Her son came first.
“Mr.
Mancini,” she said, keeping her voice soft but steady, “I assure you the reports are not fake.
Dr.
DeLuca is a very kind man.
He would never do anything like that.”
Luciano’s eyes narrowed.
“If you insist… I can open an inquiry first.
Then we’ll see how genuine your reports really are.”
Rosa’s heart dropped.
Panic clawed up her throat.
If an inquiry was opened… if they dug deeper…
her truth—the one she wanted to keep a secret—would surface.
No.
She couldn’t risk that. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Not now.
Not ever.
She forced herself to stay calm, though her vision blurred with the tears gathering in her eyes—a mother’s helplessness pressing down on her chest.
“That’s fine, Mr.
Mancini,” she said quietly, lowering her head.
“There’s no need to waste your money or time on insignificant people like us.”
Her voice trembled despite her best effort.
“Please excuse me.”
She turned quickly and walked out before the tears could spill.
Her steps were hurried, almost stumbling, as she left the room—left her last hope behind.
And in that moment, she hated him more than she ever had.
Because once again, Luciano Mancini had proven the truth she never wanted to accept:
Loving him had been the biggest mistake of her life.
He had only ever made it harder.
Only ever made her hurt.
As Rosa hurried out of the building, her vision blurred—her tears spilling before she could even take a breath.
And as if the sky itself felt her despair, the clouds opened, rain pouring down in heavy sheets, weeping with the mother who refused to stop fighting… even when she had no strength left.
She walked down the wet road without direction, her clothes drenched, her hair plastered to her face, cold rain hitting her skin like needles.
The sky had turned a deep, bruised gray, and only a few streetlights flickered weakly along the empty road.
Most people had already rushed home, leaving the streets deserted except for passing cars cutting through the storm.
After a few more steps, Rosa’s strength finally snapped under the crushing weight of her pain.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold, water-soaked ground.
Tears streamed freely, mixing with rain as she tilted her head back and screamed into the storm.
“Why?
Why?
WHY?!”
Her voice cracked, swallowed by thunder.
Then her head dropped, and she covered her face with her trembling palms.
How long did she have to suffer?
What more did God want from her?
Why was her life nothing but a test—one hardship after another, each more cruel than the last?
But now… her son?
Why did he have to suffer because of her cursed fate?
Those questions clawed at her, filling her with a furious helplessness.
The more she cried, the more agony swelled inside her chest—burning, choking, crushing.
But she couldn’t afford to break.
Not now.
Even if every road seemed blocked, she would carve a new one with her own hands if she had to.
She had to keep going.
For her child.
For her children.
And without realizing it, her hand drifted to her stomach—resting there unconsciously, protectively.
She was so consumed by grief that she didn’t notice the black luxury car parked at a distance… or the pair of icy blue eyes watching her fall apart in the rain.
“Boss… do you want me to check on Madam?” Luca, Luciano’s assistant, asked from the driver’s seat.
He had understood immediately why Luciano asked him to stop the car after spotting the woman walking alone in the rain.
She was his boss’s ex-wife.
And calling her madam came naturally to him, an instinct he couldn’t shake even after all these years.
They had been parked there for a long time now, just watching her cry on the side of the road, soaked under the pouring rain.
Luciano hadn’t said a single word, just sat there staring at her, so Luca finally couldn’t hold back his question.
“No need,” Luciano replied, his voice deep and cold.
“Drive.”