From Costello's Shadow to Volkov's Queen

On what grounds? I wanted to scream.

But I swallowed the rage, pressing my lips into a thin line and forcing a nod.

Miguel was always the same. He would sacrifice me for her without a second thought.

My compliance seemed to surprise him, earning me a second glance.

"Don't try any tricks. Behave yourself. After Isla and I are married, I'll find one of my men for you to marry off to."

"That won't be necessary. You don't need to trouble yourself with my fate."

A cold laugh escaped me.

A vein throbbed at Miguel's temple. "Watch your tone."

I didn't spare him another look. I stuffed my few clothes into a suitcase and walked out without another word.

That night, I curled up on the narrow, lumpy bed in the servants' room.

The soundproofing was nonexistent. I could clearly hear the man's suppressed grunts and the woman's theatrical moans from the master bedroom next door, on a relentless loop.

A voice in my head screamed, How could he do this to you?!

I pulled the thin blanket over my head, but the sounds still bled through, relentless.

Tears slowly soaked my pillow.

In my past life, Miguel and I were married for ten years, but he never once touched me.

Even when I swallowed my pride, trying everything to please him, he remained cold and distant.

Sometimes, he would mock me mercilessly.

"You're the Don's daughter, for God's sake. Have some dignity. If only you were one-tenth as demure as Isla."

At the time, shame had burned me from the inside out.

Looking back, I finally understood. He couldn't contain his adoration for Isla, so he elevated her by tearing me down.

The noise from next door continued deep into the night. I barely slept.

When morning finally broke, I had just stepped out of my cramped room when Isla called my name.

Her cheeks were flushed, her silk robe hanging open to reveal the dark marks scattered across her collarbone and neck.

"Lucia, the servants all have the day off. Be a dear and help serve drinks at my party? I was so exhausted last night, my whole body aches."

I started to walk past her, but she pulled a gold pocket watch from her robe, its face engraved with our family crest.

It was a keepsake from my grandmother, the woman who had raised me. I used to carry it everywhere, but it had vanished a month ago.

I had been sick with guilt over losing it.

I never imagined she had been the one to steal it.

"Give it back!"