“Lucia, are you really going to Chicago to handle the family business? The situation there is complicated. If you leave, what about Vincent’s arrangements?” At the mention of Vincent’s name, Lucia Moretti’s movements paused for a moment. Countless intimate memories flashed through her mind, like invisible hands gripping her heart tightly, bringing waves of sharp pain. After a moment of silence, she took a sip of bourbon from her glass and reaffirmed her earlier decision. “My people are watching him. Don’t ask too many questions, just go prepare. The private jet will be waiting at the usual place in two weeks.” “…Yes, Lucia. I’ll arrange it immediately.” After hanging up, Lucia leaned back into the leather sofa, her gaze falling on the entertainment news headline. “Gallo Group Spends Big on Hollywood Investment, Veteran Actors Support Newcomer Scarlett. With Such Massive Backing, What’s This Newcomer’s Real Background?” Online discussions about Gallo Group’s crossover move were heated, with many speculating about Scarlett’s relationship with the conglomerate. “Is this woman an illegitimate daughter of the Gallo family? Otherwise, why would Gallo, a financial empire that never touches entertainment, personally pave the way for an unknown newcomer?” “Not necessarily an illegitimate daughter, but possibly a kept mistress. A beauty like Scarlett fits perfectly with what those family bosses and rich heirs prefer.” This comment quickly received numerous likes. Lucia also gave it a thumbs up with her anonymous account. Because she knew better than anyone that this comment was completely accurate. Scarlett was indeed popular with wealthy young men, and Gallo Group’s big move was orchestrated by Vincent, the man she’d been with for seven years. To make Scarlett a star, Vincent—who was always ruthlessly cold in business—was investing so recklessly. This realization plunged Lucia into silence once again. She wearily turned off the screen and closed her eyes with a frown. Before she knew it, the bourbon in her glass had reached the bottom. After finishing the last sip, Lucia slowly opened her eyes and casually placed the glass on the table. She thought their relationship had probably reached its end. Or rather, their meeting had been a mistake from the very beginning. … Lucia had met Vincent seven years ago. At that time, as a top enforcer for the Moretti family, she was waiting in a Colombian bar for a traitor to appear. There, she saw Vincent, like a lost little beast. The young, handsome boy stared with clear eyes, curiously yet fearfully taking in the bar’s mixed crowd. So surprised was he that his mouth hung slightly open, as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. It was in that instant that Lucia became interested in him. Their eyes met in the dim lighting. When their gazes locked, Vincent’s eyes trembled slightly, and he unconsciously took a few steps toward Lucia. Only when he was about to bump into the table in front of her did he suddenly snap back to reality. He hurriedly looked away, not daring to meet her eyes again. Lucia found it somewhat amusing. A naive kid who looked like a clueless college student actually dared to come to such a place to broaden his horizons—wasn’t he afraid of getting torn apart? She was about to approach him with a warning when her long-awaited target appeared. Lucia had to refocus on her work. When she returned to the bar after efficiently handling her task, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. A pang of regret crossed her heart, immediately replaced by self-mocking acceptance. Lucia thought she must have been crazy to think that boy would wait for her in the same spot. She shook her head and prepared to leave, but someone gently tapped her shoulder from behind. In a split second, Lucia spun around sharply, and the boy’s handsome face came into view. He lowered his head somewhat shyly, his voice trembling with nervousness. “You… hello, I… may I get to know you?” A pure-hearted kid who probably hadn’t even held a woman’s hand dared to approach her, this thorny black rose. Lucia sneered inwardly. But he had actually waited in that spot, willing to gamble on whether she would return. In that moment, Lucia’s heart, silent for so many years, trembled gently. Less than half an hour after news of Scarlett being promoted by Gallo Group spread online, Vincent’s call came through. His voice was as clear and pleasant as always, carrying that gentle tone that seemed almost pleading—one reserved just for her. “Lucia, don’t believe any of that nonsense online. The company’s backing that newcomer is just a business strategy, nothing more.” “Today marks our seven-year anniversary. I’ll wrap up company matters as quickly as possible, then we’ll go out for lunch and catch a movie this afternoon, okay? We haven’t had a proper date in ages!” Without waiting for Lucia’s response, Vincent had already begun planning with anticipation. “There’s a remastered version of an old film playing recently. I’ve been wanting to watch it with you for a while, but I’ve been swamped. Since today’s our anniversary, let’s go see it together, Lucia?” “And… Valenti’s has a new head chef who’s supposed to be amazing. I had my assistant reserve a private dining room.” “After dinner and the movie, we could…” Vincent rambled on, and Lucia listened patiently throughout. Until she heard knocking from his end, followed by a sweet, coquettish female voice interrupting: “Mr. Gallo, I was hoping to invite you to lunch…” The rest was muffled—Vincent must have covered the phone. A few seconds later, his somewhat nervous voice returned: “Lucia, that was just… my assistant reporting on work. Let’s not talk now. Just head straight to Valenti’s at noon and wait for me. I’ll see you there.” With that, he hastily hung up, leaving only the cold dial tone. In that moment, Lucia realized with crystal clarity that the little beast she’d kept by her side and nurtured for seven years had truly grown up. He’d matured enough to lie to her face without batting an eye. She walked into her study and retrieved the seven-year anniversary gift she’d prepared long ago. It was a photo album she’d made by hand, documenting every moment she and Vincent had shared over these seven years. In the past, Vincent always liked holding her in his arms, stroking her long hair while complaining: “Lucia, why is it always me talking and you listening? You speak so little that sometimes I wonder if you even care about me.” As he spoke, he would reach out with both hands and gently pinch her cheeks. “Lucia, smile. You’re so beautiful—why don’t you smile more often?” Having grown up in a mafia family, Lucia had long been accustomed to hiding her emotions and rarely expressed her feelings directly. But since being with Vincent, she’d changed in many ways—half willingly, half reluctantly—gradually becoming more like what he wanted her to be. She opened the album and saw herself beaming in the photos. In one candid shot, her lips were caught mid-motion, saying “I love you” to Vincent. Without realizing it, Lucia was no longer the cold, ruthless enforcer of the Moretti family she once was. The thought made her heart ache. Seven years ago, Vincent had been drawn to her like a moth to flame, chasing her across the globe. He’d accompanied her through gunfire, walked with her through the mud of slums, witnessed humanity’s darkest moments alongside her, and weathered countless storms together. Eventually, Lucia couldn’t bear to let this young master, who should have been living comfortably in New York, continue risking his life following her around. She withdrew from the family’s core operations team and returned to New York with him, settling into a life under the sun. Lucia gave Vincent everything. When his father suddenly died and the family business was threatened, she stepped forward, using the Moretti family’s resources and her own savings to help Vincent stabilize the situation and establish Gallo Group as the perfect front. Every time Vincent was on the verge of breaking down, Lucia was there beside him, shielding him from storms and giving him space to breathe and recover. Vincent was like a sapling Lucia had planted with her own hands, growing from tender youth to maturity, eventually becoming a towering tree. But no matter how decisive and commanding Vincent was as president of Gallo Group in public, at home he still clung to Lucia just like before, depending on her. Seven years, day after day. Just this year, Lucia had even prepared to marry him, notifying all her overseas friends and planning a grand wedding. Then she discovered Vincent’s affair. He’d forgotten to log out of his tablet, leaving his chat history with Scarlett on the screen. Scarlett: Vincent, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. My agent treats me with such respect now. Vincent: Good girl. If you run into any trouble, just tell me and I’ll handle it. Scarlett: Thank you, Vincent. Tonight I’ll wear that little bunny outfit you like and wait for you! Vincent: Make sure my little bunny is all clean and ready to be devoured. … Those few short lines pierced Lucia’s heart. Just then, Vincent sent her a message: “Lucia, are you at the restaurant yet? Go ahead and order—I’ll be right there!” The contrast was absurd. The pure, innocent young man who’d been so clean and devoted in front of her had become someone else’s reliable “big shot” behind her back. How ironic, how laughable. Since he enjoyed being pursued by female celebrities, she’d let him enjoy it forever. As for her—she would turn and walk away. }}}###
Even though she left late, Lucia still arrived at the restaurant before Vincent. She ordered his favorite dishes and waited in the private dining room for over an hour before Vincent finally showed up with an apologetic expression. “Lucia, I’m sorry. A few old guys from the family suddenly called me over, which delayed me. I kept you waiting so long—you must be starving! Let’s eat quickly.” After Vincent sat down and saw the table full of his favorite dishes, he smiled sweetly at Lucia. “You’re the best, Lucia. You always remember what I like. I really can’t live without you—being with you makes me so happy.” The dishes had been kept warm the whole time. He skillfully picked up his fork, cut the best piece of steak, and naturally placed it on Lucia’s plate first. “You eat first. Be careful, it’s hot.” Throughout the meal, whenever Lucia’s wine glass was empty, Vincent would stop eating and refill it for her. After dinner, he also took care of helping her with her coat and tidying up, not letting her lift a finger. As Vincent put it: “You protect me in big things, I take care of you in small things. We’re a perfect match.” These had been their habits for seven years, but now, feeling Vincent’s attentiveness, Lucia couldn’t feel even a trace of happiness. In fact, every time he acted so considerate in front of her, she would think of his chat records with Scarlett. At the movie theater, Vincent didn’t book the entire venue, wanting to have a date with Lucia like an ordinary couple. Lucia didn’t mind either way, so she naturally wouldn’t refuse. They bought popcorn and Coke and followed Vincent into the theater. They had bought couple seats. When they sat down, two girls nearby looked at them in surprise and whispered to each other. “Oh my God, are those two celebrities? The guy is so handsome and tall, and the woman is so elegant and beautiful—they look like they walked out of a movie!” “Their interaction is so sweet! When they walked over, the guy always stayed half a step behind to protect her, and when she looked back at him, her eyes were full of tenderness and familiarity. So sweet!” Vincent heard this and smiled happily. Under the girls’ gaze, he leaned close to Lucia and suddenly kissed her. Suppressed excited squeals came from nearby. Vincent’s eyes crinkled with laughter as he gently traced his index finger in Lucia’s palm. “Lucia, they all say we’re sweet. I think so too—every moment with you is incredibly sweet.” Lucia met his bright eyes and reached out to touch his hair, saying nothing. The movie Vincent chose was somewhat dull, running three and a half hours long. During the screening, Lucia noticed that Vincent wasn’t paying attention. He kept looking down at his phone, and in the dark environment, the screen’s glow was particularly glaring as it lit up and dimmed repeatedly. Perhaps sensing that the atmosphere around Lucia had grown tense, Vincent nervously traced her palm again. “Lucia, it’s from the company—they keep sending messages. Don’t worry, I’ve already told them I’m spending the afternoon on a date with you and asked them to stop bothering me.” He claimed it was the company, but Lucia knew that from the morning call that was hung up to the afternoon’s constant messages, what was really disrupting them was never the company, but Scarlett. But she didn’t make an issue of it. Under Vincent’s nervous gaze, she simply ruffled his hair like she used to. “It’s fine. Let’s watch the movie.” Vincent immediately relaxed, sitting up straight with relief. Seeing Lucia turn to look at the screen, he quickly typed a message on his phone. “From now until tomorrow, don’t send me any more messages. Shut up!” Lucia caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye. After the message was sent, the other person immediately replied with a crying emoji. Then came another message: “Vincent, you don’t love me anymore. You only think about being with that woman—you don’t have me in your heart at all.” Vincent paused after seeing this, hesitated for a few seconds, and didn’t reply. Lucia thought he could finally focus and spend this last anniversary with her properly. But unexpectedly, after five or six minutes, Vincent restlessly picked up his phone again. His fingers quickly tapped on the screen: “I really don’t have time today. Be good, baby. Daddy will make it up to you tomorrow.” As soon as he sent it, Scarlett replied instantly. “Love you Daddy, you really do love me the most!” Vincent’s expression relaxed, and he replied with a smile: “Daddy loves you too. Wait for me tomorrow like a good girl.” After sending this, he carefully looked up and observed that Lucia was sitting upright with her eyes fixed on the screen ahead, assuming she was completely unaware. He thought he had pulled the wool over her eyes. But Lucia, who had witnessed everything, felt her heart riddled with holes, her chest tight with pain. After the movie ended, Vincent accompanied Lucia to the Coney Island amusement park, where he won her a giant stuffed bear at a shooting booth. On the way back, Vincent chatted excitedly about the day’s fun moments, circling around Lucia like an energetic puppy. But no matter how he tried to amuse her, Lucia remained listless. Vincent sensed something was wrong and looked at her nervously, asking cautiously, “Lucia, are you unhappy? Why aren’t you saying anything?” The concern in his eyes was utterly sincere, that worry almost spilling over from his handsome gaze. Just like every time before, whenever Lucia showed the slightest coldness, Vincent would notice immediately and then try every way to cheer her up. This time was no exception. Ignoring the driver in front, he leaned close to Lucia, took her hand and pressed it gently against his face. “Lucia, if you’re unhappy, you must tell me. I’ll always be here with you, to make you happy.” Lucia followed his movement and looked down, staring intently at his face. Seven years had passed, yet time had left few traces on Vincent’s face. He was still young and handsome, like a boy who had just walked out of college. The dependence on his face toward her didn’t seem fake, that intense love almost melting enough to melt anyone. But this was the very man she had personally helped rise to power, who was secretly keeping a starlet behind her back. Thinking of Vincent’s two completely different faces, Lucia couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. Even her words of comfort came out perfunctory. “It’s nothing, there’s some trouble in Chicago that needs handling. I’m just thinking about business.” Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, then looked at her with some uncertainty: “Lucia, it’s really just business? You promise you’re not hiding anything else from me?” Lucia ruffled his hair, “What else could there be? I promised you I’d tell you if something was wrong, that I wouldn’t shoulder everything alone anymore. Don’t worry.” Only then did Vincent regain his energy, hugging her arm and chattering away again. After returning to the Long Island estate, Vincent went to shower on his own, coming out loosely wrapped in a bathrobe that revealed his well-defined abs. His tall frame embraced Lucia from behind, kissing her ear and making a suggestive invitation. “Lucia, today is our seven-year anniversary, tonight we…” Lucia instinctively leaned back into his warm chest. She was too familiar with his body and scent. Almost without any foreplay, her body had already responded to him, craving his kisses and embrace. But the next second, she thought of those explicit messages between Vincent and Scarlett. Her body’s passion instantly faded. Lucia calmly pushed him away and spoke indifferently: “Vincent, do you feel tired?” Vincent was stunned, “Lucia, what are you talking about?” Seeing he didn’t respond, Lucia continued asking: “In front of me, you always have to watch my moods, suppress yourself, play that role of someone who needs protection. Vincent Gallo, are you tired?” Perhaps Lucia’s tone was too serious. Vincent froze instantly, then was overwhelmed by crushing nervousness and panic. “Lu… Lucia, how could I be tired? As long as I’m with you, I’ll never be tired!” “Don’t say things like that anymore. We’ve been through so much, it wasn’t easy getting to where we are today… Being with you only brings happiness, no exhaustion…” Vincent spoke at breakneck speed, as if slowing down even a second would make Lucia disappear from before him. Tears streamed down his face as he buried his head in Lucia’s chest, his voice both aggrieved and choked. “Lucia, don’t ask me if I’m tired anymore. In front of you, I’m willing to forever be that boy who needs you, forever.” Watching Vincent desperately making promises, Lucia remained silent for a long time, finally sighing without saying anything. She gently stroked his back, “Sleep now, don’t overthink.” Vincent sobbed himself to sleep in her arms. Even in his dreams, he held tightly to Lucia’s arm, like a frightened beast clinging desperately to its last support, refusing to let go even in sleep. In the latter half of the night, Vincent slept peacefully, even wearing a relaxed smile on his face. But Lucia remained awake all night. Early the next morning, Vincent was awakened by the ringing of his phone. Still not fully awake, he instinctively hit the speakerphone button. A sultry female voice came through from the other end, and he jolted awake, quickly pressing mute. Meeting Lucia’s penetrating gaze that seemed to see right through everything, Vincent’s face flashed with panic as he explained awkwardly, “It’s one of my men with urgent business to report. I’ll step out to take it.” Lucia didn’t stop him, letting him rush out of the bedroom without even putting on his slippers. She knew perfectly well that the caller wasn’t one of his subordinates, but Scarlett, whom Vincent had promised to “compensate” yesterday. After all, in these seven years together, aside from the recently appeared Scarlett, Vincent had never kept any secrets from her. She could freely enter and exit his office, his encrypted phone was never password-protected around her, and he had even given her contact information for all his trusted associates. One of his confidants had once complained privately, “Vincent, don’t you think Lucia’s being too controlling? What kind of family boss lives like you do, with zero personal space?” Lucia happened to overhear that comment. Just as she was wondering if she really was being too demanding, she heard Vincent laugh and shake his head. “I don’t think so. Besides, it’s not that she wants to control me—I’m the one who chose to lay everything bare for her to see.” His subordinates all thought he’d lost his mind. But Vincent just smiled sweetly, saying it was an understanding between him and Lucia that outsiders wouldn’t get. “Lucia, I need to go to the office. I won’t be able to have lunch together.” Vincent quickly got dressed, dropped that line, and hurried off without waiting for Lucia’s response. Watching the door slam shut, Lucia let out a silent, mocking laugh. His words from back then still echoed in her ears, but the man who spoke them had already changed. Since Vincent wanted his freedom, she wouldn’t stay for him any longer. Lucia spent the entire day packing her belongings around the estate. They’d been together too long—seven years of living side by side had intertwined their lives and possessions until they were inseparable. But now, she had to personally peel apart everything that had once been so tightly bound together. Entertainment news popped up on her phone about Scarlett joining a film production. Right after that, Vincent called. “Lucia, the company’s new film investment is starting production, and as the major investor, I need to go discuss the follow-up with the director and producers. Since this is our first venture into Hollywood, I need to oversee it personally.” Halfway through, his tone became cautiously probing: “The crew is in Los Angeles, so I probably won’t be coming home for the next few days.” To Vincent’s surprise, Lucia agreed without hesitation. “Alright, go ahead.” After saying that, she hung up without even giving Vincent time to respond. Vincent stared down at the darkened screen, somewhat dazed. An inexplicable sense of panic rose in his chest, as if something important was about to spiral out of control. Just then, Scarlett walked over with a smile, looking completely pleased with herself. “Vincent, thank you for being willing to come with me to the set. The director and everyone are being so much nicer to me now.” She took his hand, stroking it suggestively. “The hotel suite the production arranged is amazing. Tonight we can…” One of Vincent’s lieutenants approached, and seeing Scarlett’s actions, gave Vincent a knowing smile before turning to leave. “Sir, it’s rare to find such an understanding young lady. You should…” Hearing his subordinate’s flippant tone, Vincent’s brow twitched sharply, and he jerked his hand away from Scarlett’s as if electrocuted. His expression turned ice-cold. “I’ve warned you all to respect Lucia. Her position can never be replaced by anyone. Stop making assumptions, or I’ll consider replacing you.” After reprimanding his subordinate, he turned to Scarlett. He wanted to refuse, but seeing her on the verge of tears, Vincent softened again. He sighed, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Next time I won’t indulge you like this, you disobedient little minx.” Scarlett’s face immediately lit up with an obedient smile as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I promise I’ll be good. Let me take real good care of you tonight~” }}}###
What Vincent didn’t know was that on the very night he was being intimate with Scarlett in Los Angeles, Lucia received a multimedia message from an unknown number. The message contained only one photo. In the picture, Scarlett was beaming as she leaned against Vincent’s chest, wearing a revealing nightgown with her bare shoulders exposed. Vincent wasn’t resisting—he held a wine glass in one hand while his other arm wrapped around her waist, a faint smile playing on his lips. Below the photo was a line of text: “Miss Moretti, after seven years with Vincent, you should be able to feel that his heart is no longer with you. Be smart and bow out gracefully.” Lucia knew this was Scarlett’s provocation, trying to get the “old flame” to disappear quickly so the “new woman” could take her place. She stared coldly at Vincent in the photo for a long time, a frigid smile curving her lips. Sweet words were indeed the most unreliable things in the world. Just the night before, Vincent had held her with bloodshot eyes, crying as he promised to be with her forever, saying he could never leave her. The very next evening, he was calmly embracing another woman. She didn’t reply to Scarlett or call Vincent to confront him. She simply quickened her pace in packing her belongings. For the entire following week, Vincent remained in Los Angeles. He would text Lucia as usual, sharing his daily life, sending her photos from the film set, even photographing roadside wildflowers to send to her. It seemed intimate and unchanged from before. But they both knew everything was different. In the past, when Vincent traveled for work, he couldn’t sleep without talking to her for at least a day. But this time, he never initiated a single phone call. After discovering that Lucia hadn’t called him either, Vincent pretended not to notice, and they both tacitly maintained a superficial calm. Finally, on the morning of the eighth day, Vincent called excitedly. “Lucia, I’ve finished everything here and I’m ready to come back! Let’s go out for dinner tonight—I’m craving that French restaurant downtown.” Lucia looked at her nearly empty walk-in closet and nodded with downcast eyes. That evening, Vincent went straight from his private jet to the restaurant. The moment he saw Lucia in the private dining room, he rushed over and buried his head in her shoulder. “Lucia, I missed you so much. We’ve never been apart this long.” He nuzzled against her neck, thinking he was being affectionate, not realizing that from this angle, Lucia could clearly see a telltale hickey on the back of his neck. Against his pale skin, that dark red mark stung her eyes. Lucia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. After sitting down, she asked casually, “Are the mosquitoes in Los Angeles particularly vicious?” Vincent froze with a confused expression, and she reached up to gently touch the back of his neck. “There’s a red mark here.” Vincent’s knife and fork clattered to the floor. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast in the private room, Lucia could clearly see beads of cold sweat forming on Vincent’s forehead. The air fell silent for several seconds. Vincent spoke somewhat stiffly: “Yeah, that’s right. There are lots of bugs in California—probably got bitten without noticing.” Lucia didn’t expose his clumsy lie, simply replacing his utensils with clean ones. “Let’s eat.” Throughout the meal, Vincent was clearly distracted. The lively atmosphere that once filled their dinner table was gone, and they finished eating in silence. Back home, Vincent took the initiative to shower, then lay in bed waiting for Lucia. When she emerged from the bathroom with steam still clinging to her skin, he reached out to untie the sash of her silk robe, trying to kiss her in a placating manner. The room began to heat up with tension. The next second, a jarring phone ringtone shattered the mood. Lucia glanced at the phone on the nightstand, where “Scarlett” flashed across the screen. She pulled away, avoiding Vincent’s kiss, and looked at him with indifferent eyes: “The phone keeps ringing. Aren’t you going to answer it?” Before Vincent could reach for it, the ringing stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief as if he’d been granted a reprieve. Just as he was about to say something, the phone rang again. And this time, it was the special ringtone Vincent had set for Scarlett. Now Vincent could no longer maintain his composure. He fumbled for the phone and headed outside, not forgetting to turn back and explain: “Lucia, there might be an emergency with the family. I’ll step out to take this and be right back.” He deliberately put on an annoyed expression as he answered the phone: “I know, can’t whatever it is wait until tomorrow… Fine, I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Vincent ran back barefoot, threw on his jacket, and headed for the door. “Lucia, there’s an emergency meeting I have to attend personally. If it runs too late, I won’t come back—I’ll stay overnight at the downtown apartment.” “Tomorrow, I promise I’ll make it up to you properly.” It wasn’t until he was about to leave that he noticed Lucia hadn’t said a word the entire time, just quietly watching him. When their eyes met and he looked into her deep gaze, Vincent’s heart skipped a panicked beat. Something felt off. Lucia’s look made him inexplicably anxious. But soon, Lucia smiled naturally, waving him off and telling him to hurry so he wouldn’t delay important business. Vincent hesitated for a few seconds, repeatedly confirming she seemed normal before hastily closing the front door. Lucia watched him leave, not missing the flash of relief in his eyes as he turned away. She curved her lips slightly, then reached up to remove the necklace Vincent had given her—the one she’d worn for seven years—and placed it on the table. Since she’d decided to leave, she would leave everything behind, returning it all to him exactly as it was. After Vincent left that time, he didn’t return for a very long time. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding her, sending no messages, making no calls, as if pretending nothing had happened would make it so. In all their seven years together, Lucia had never experienced such profound silence. She looked at the photo of the two of them together, gently caressing Vincent’s face in the picture with her fingertip, then smiled as she tore away her half of the photograph. The floor was covered with picture frames, and she treated every photo the same way. After handling the last photo together, she twisted her stiff, aching neck and realized dawn had already broken. It turned out they had so many photos together that it took an entire night to completely clear them all out. Lucia lit the fireplace and threw all the photo fragments into the flames. As the fire blazed up, she noticed several unread messages—provocative texts from Scarlett. “Bet you didn’t see this coming—Vincent isn’t at some meeting, he’s here having a candlelit dinner with me. He even complimented my steak.” The message was followed by several intimate photos. Lucia didn’t even lift an eyelid as she casually deleted the messages. She began calling people to come over and replace all the dark-toned furniture and curtains that reflected her personal style throughout the estate, switching them out for the bright, modern aesthetic that Vincent preferred. Over the next few days, she personally worked to completely transform the home into something that belonged to Vincent alone. Standing at the entrance, seeing that not a trace of her remained in the house, Lucia smiled with satisfaction. Just then, Vincent called. Perhaps overwhelmed by guilt, or unable to bear the pressure of their cold war any longer, he was the first to give in. His voice carried a note of grievance: “Lucia, I’ve been away for so long, and you haven’t called me even once. Don’t you love me anymore?” Lucia smiled softly but said nothing. Hearing her low chuckle, Vincent’s heart instantly clenched with unease. “Lu… Lucia… what are you laughing about?” Looking at the completely transformed home before her, Lucia said with a cryptic smile, “A while back was our seven-year anniversary, and I sent you a gift. Did you look at it? Besides that, I prepared another surprise for you.” Vincent paused: “The gift… I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t opened it yet. I’ll look at it as soon as I get home tonight!” “Lucia, what do you want for dinner? I’ll buy ingredients—it’s been so long since I cooked for you…” “No need,” Lucia interrupted coolly. She was planning to tell him that her people would come for her tonight. After this, there would be no “after” for them. But there were people talking constantly around Vincent. He glanced helplessly at the chattering Scarlett and said apologetically, “Lucia, it’s a bit noisy here. Let’s talk when I get home—I’ll be back soon anyway.” With that, he hurriedly hung up. Lucia looked down at the darkened screen and laughed softly. Dinner together tonight? No need. All her luggage had already been moved out. Lucia stood outside the estate and took one last look back. The warm light glowing from inside matched his preferred style perfectly. That was good. The thunderous roar of rotor blades echoed overhead as a black helicopter circled down through the night sky. The helicopter landed on the estate’s helipad, and Lucia walked toward it without hesitation. At the same time, Vincent, having bought fresh ingredients, was driving his Ferrari back home, just entering the estate’s main gate. He glanced up casually and saw the helicopter bearing the Moretti family crest, his eyes instantly widening. The next second, he caught sight of Lucia boarding the helicopter. The gas pedal slammed to the floor, the sports car roared, and he raced frantically toward the estate. Panic flooded his mind, as if something vital was being torn away from him, his heart pounding so violently it felt ready to burst from his chest. But he was still a step too late. When he rushed up to the rooftop helipad like a madman, he could only watch helplessly as the black helicopter roared overhead and disappeared into New York’s glittering night sky… }}}###
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