"You witch!" Alessia shouted, her voice filled with venom. "You killed our mother!"
"You'll pay for it," Rocco added coldly, his eyes gleaming with something disturbingly cruel.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees, shaking violently as sobs tore through me.
The bites burned, but they were nothing compared to the pain of their words.
They didn't know.
They had never known.
Their mother had been my best friend.
I carried them.
I endured everything for them.
I gave them everything I had.
And now…
Now they looked at me like I was a monster.
"I didn't kill her," I choked out, my voice breaking completely.
"Don't speak her name!" Matteo roared, his face twisted with rage. His fingers curled into his palms and squeezed, knuckles white, the ghost of the toddler who'd once gripped my hand through every stuttered word now channeled into fists.
"You wanted her gone so you could take our dad," Nico spat, each word dripping with accusation. He shrugged his left shoulder as if the whole thing bored him, but his eyes were black with hate.
Their hatred carved into me, deeper than any wound.
As I struggled on the floor, desperately trying to brush the ants off my body, my skin burning, my dignity shattered, Lucia suddenly stepped closer.
Her expression softened. She tucked her hair behind her right ear and tilted her head, the picture of gentle concern.
"This is unfair, guys," she said, her tone almost sympathetic. "We can't just leave her like this."
For a moment… hope flickered.
"Let's help her," she added.
Relief flooded through me so suddenly it made me dizzy.
Finally… one of them. One of them still had a heart.
I lifted my trembling hand toward her, reaching out, desperate for even the smallest kindness.
"Psych!"
Her laughter exploded in my ears.
Before I could react, she shoved something into my hand.
A sharp, immediate sting followed.
Confusion flashed through me, then realization.
A beehive.
My scream tore through the room, raw and animalistic, as pain erupted everywhere at once. My vision blurred instantly as I tried to fling it away, my entire body shaking uncontrollably.
"Pathetic," one of them sneered.
"She really thought we wanted to help her."
"You deserve this," another voice added coldly. "And we'll make sure you keep suffering as long as you're here."
Their words echoed in my head as everything spun.
A maid rushed in at the sound of my screams, her face going pale as she hurried to help me, brushing away the hive, swatting away the remaining insects. The woman's hands were practiced, efficient, the way all household staff in the Montecarlo compound learned to clean up messes without asking questions.
"What kind of cruelty is this?" she snapped at them, her voice trembling with anger.
"Shut up, maid!" they hissed back in unison.
Alessia turned her gaze to me one last time, her eyes sharp and unforgiving. She went completely motionless, not a blink, not a breath, before she spoke.
"Know your place, Seraphina," she said coldly. "And it's not here."
Then they left.
Just like that.
Leaving me behind.
Broken.
Shaking.
Crawling on the floor like I was nothing.
"I'm sorry, Miss, do you need—" the maid began softly.
"Just go," I rasped, my voice barely holding together.
She hesitated, then left.
Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself back up, crawling toward the mirror, gripping its edge as if it were the only thing keeping me from collapsing completely.
This wasn't me.
This couldn't be my life.
And that was the moment I made the call.
I didn't pack anything.
Didn't take a single possession.
Just my phone.
And my wallet.
On the wall, Catarina's photograph stared back at me. Perfect. Beautiful. Untouchable. Framed in dark wood beside a votive candle that someone in the household kept lit, the way the Montecarlo family honored their dead.
I reached out, my fingers brushing lightly against the frame, my chest tightening painfully.
They didn't know.
They didn't know she stole Enzo from me.
They didn't know she begged me, begged me, to keep the truth hidden.
That I was their real mother.
That I gave everything up for them.
Everything.
My left hand found my wrist and pressed hard against the bare skin where my mother's bracelet once sat, fingers digging in until the ache bloomed through bone.
"I'm sorry, Catarina…" I whispered, my voice trembling as tears blurred my vision again. "But I can't do this anymore."
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Closer.
"Seraphina?" Enzo's voice called out. "Where are you? The gathering's starting. You need to play the piano for Don."
The Old Don's Christmas Eve dinner. The one night a year when the entire Montecarlo family sat at the same table and pretended to be holy. I was expected to perform, the way I was always expected to perform.
I said nothing.
Not a word.
When the door finally opened, he froze.
"Jesus, Seraphina, what happened to you?"
Blood streaked down my face. My body trembled. Tears slipped silently from my eyes.
"Ask your precious kids," I snapped, the bitterness in my voice sharp enough to cut.
"What… what do you mean?" he asked, confusion flashing across his face. His thumb drifted along the edge of his jaw, that unconscious tell he'd carried since boyhood, already preparing to deflect whatever came next.
I looked at him. Really looked at him.
And for the first time, I felt nothing.
