After Tonight, Never Again

At the birthday banquet of the old Godfather, Salvatore Moretti, the estate was bustling with high-profile guests. Don Marco Moretti arrived late, bringing along his new secretary, Sophie.

"Elena, move to the opposite side. It's Sophie's first time at an event like this, and she’s used to sitting next to me."

I didn't hesitate for a single second. Picking up my wine glass, I walked straight over and sat down beside Salvatore, whose face was completely grim. Marco raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by how compliant I was. He then guided a visibly nervous Sophie into the seat that had just been mine.

Soon after, my phone buzzed in my hand.

【Are you making a scene again? How many times do I have to tell you? I just brought the girl out to show her the world. Stop throwing these pathetic, jealous tantrums.】

【I’ll fly you to Paris next week to pick out your wedding dress. Stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?】

I let out a soft laugh. Seeing the smile on my face from across the table, Marco smiled back, thinking he had smoothed things over.

What he didn't know—What I was actually laughing at was the fact that we wouldn't be going to Paris at all. Exactly ten minutes before he walked through the door, I had already finalized the dissolution of our engagement with Salvatore.

A notification from the airline popped up on my screen: Flight departing in three hours.

Marco, after tonight, you and I are completely finished.

"Dad, happy birthday. To a long and prosperous life." Marco raised his glass of whiskey toward Salvatore with a smooth smile. "By the way, this is my new assistant, Sophie. She’s incredibly sharp, so I brought her along tonight to celebrate your birthday."

Sophie stood up somewhat timidly, raising her glass. "Wishing you good health, Mr. Moretti."

Salvatore’s expression remained utterly stone-faced. "You absolute fool. Are you trying to infuriate me to death? Who gave you permission to bring an outsider into our family home? You show zero care for your own fiancée, yet you pour all your attention into a mere assistant."

Sophie’s eyes instantly welled with tears, and she turned to Marco with a helpless, pleading look.

The hand Marco was using to swirl his whiskey paused. His sharp gaze shot directly toward me. "Did Elena complain to you about me again?"

"Hmph! She wouldn't even waste her breath on you," Salvatore snapped. "I’m neither blind nor deaf. Do you honestly think I don't know about the pathetic stunts you’ve been pulling?" Salvatore was already seething because I had just called off the engagement, so his tone was exceptionally harsh.

Meanwhile, I sat there completely unfazed, nonchalantly enjoying my food and drink.

Seeing my detached attitude, Marco lost his temper too. "I merely took Sophie with me on a business trip and spent a few days exploring the area afterward! How does that constitute throwing a tantrum?!"

Hearing this, I couldn't help but chuckle out loud.

His so-called business trip only happened because Sophie had whined about wanting to visit Monte Carlo. He had ruthlessly canceled a long-standing partnership with the Russo family just to pivot to a supplier based in Monaco. Pampering her was the primary objective; the business trip was just a convenient excuse.

It was precisely because of this reckless stunt that my parents finally realized Marco's feelings for me had withered. They readily agreed to let me break off the engagement.

"What are you laughing at?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a cold whisper.

"Why you absolutely had to go to Monaco for business—you and I both know the real reason."

Having his true motives laid bare, Marco's composure shattered. "Elena, you haven't even married into the Moretti family yet, and you're already trying to micromanage my commercial decisions? Changing suppliers was a calculated corporate strategy. What's wrong with traveling with my assistant? Stop using your petty jealousy to make baseless accusations!"

The air in the room grew suffocatingly silent. Sophie’s timid eyes met mine. Looking at her, I was instantly reminded of the posts she had shared on Instagram.

【What kind of absolute angel boss does this?~ I just mentioned that I wanted to go to Monte Carlo, and he literally canceled a project with his fiancée's family, switched to a Monaco supplier, and used a business trip as an excuse to take me on a company-funded vacation!】

Her pinned story featured a picture of the luxurious Hotel Hermitage.

【I only booked one suite, and he didn't even care. What do you guys think this means? 😉】

The comment section was filled with people analyzing the situation, insisting that the boss was clearly into her. They urged her to shoot her shot and secure this billionaire bachelor.

When someone commented: 【But doesn't he have a fiancée? Isn't this a bit wrong?】 It was followed by a flood of users encouraging her anyway, and she had liked every single one of those comments.

Over the course of five days, she posted thirty times. She meticulously documented every little detail of her time with Marco in Monte Carlo. Those photos—seemingly ordinary but undeniably intimate—had deeply pierced my eyes, shattering the heart that had beaten for him for over a decade.

And during that entire time, not a single message I sent him received a reply. He did pick up the phone once. But it was Sophie who answered.

"Are you looking for Marco? He's in the shower right now."

From that exact moment, my decision to call off the wedding was set in stone.