Heartbreak to Power: The Don's Chosen

After walking out of the villa, I contacted the family lawyer, Marco Ricci, to begin the process of dividing our assets. I also arranged for someone to clean the clothes Sofia damaged and to compile a compensation list for her.

Once everything was arranged, I tapped open my phone and sent a message.

"Tonight at Club Ace—we drink until we drop! Who's in? My treat, hurry over!"

My friends instantly responded with excitement. We used to hang out all the time, but ever since I met Matteo, it had been years since we last gathered. Thus, they were understandably over the moon.

Amid the excited reactions, a voice of reason chimed in, "Elena, don't you usually spend all your free time with Matteo? How do you have time to hang out with us today?"

He had asked what everyone was wondering about.

"Doesn't Matteo hate it when you go out with us?"

The heartfelt concern from my friends reached me one after another, filling my heart with warmth.

"We've already started the divorce proceedings," I replied with a relaxed tone.

The news exploded like a thunderbolt, instantly setting everyone abuzz. I calmly replied to a few messages before switching my phone to silent mode.

Before heading to the club, I treated myself to a spa session and picked up the limited-edition dress I had ordered online. For the first time in what felt like ages, I went back to the bold, dramatic makeup I wore before I got married.

By the time I arrived at Club Ace, my friends were already there.

I felt completely at ease in their presence. After downing several cocktails in a row, a pleasant dizziness washed over me, leaving me light and relaxed.

I excused myself to go to the restroom, hoping to walk off the effects of the alcohol. Leaning against the railing, I glanced to the side and spotted a shameless couple standing in the corner.

They looked somewhat familiar. A closer look revealed it was Sofia, dressed in a dancer's outfit, and Matteo. In my slightly hazy state, I could see Sofia nestled in Matteo's arms.

"Sofia, just tell me what I need to do for you to give up this job. Don't you remember what I told you? This place is no sanctuary of art. The complexities here are beyond what you can imagine, and a woman as innocent as you is especially vulnerable."

Large teardrops rolled down Sofia's cheeks. "I know my work can't compare to yours. But to me, this is where I can showcase my talent—it's my temple of art. Besides, I still owe Mrs. Romano so much money, so I have no other choice."

"Don't worry about any of that. I'll pay her back the money. All you have to do is focus on studying abroad without any worries."

Sofia buried herself deeper into Matteo's arms, her sobs growing heavier as she choked out, "But that's your money. I can't let you go through trouble for my sake. You know me—being with you was never about your money."

I was watching the scene with keen interest when someone suddenly whispered teasingly in my ear, "Ma'am, you really shouldn't let that woman fool you."

I turned in surprise and saw a man dressed in a waiter's uniform standing beside me. The corner of his mouth was tilted upward in a rather captivating way, but I was too preoccupied with what he had said to admire it.

"Do continue," I urged.

"That woman is one of the most skilled operators here. Just in the past two weeks, I've seen the two of them together like this three or four times. Every time, she strikes the same pose—playing the innocent, stubborn, yet dignified type, all while shedding tears and saying things that tug at a man's heartstrings.

"Playing the long game to reel in the big fish is one of the most common tactics around here, and the outcomes are usually quite rewarding."

As he spoke, his cheeks flushed slightly. "Ma'am, I noticed you standing here for a while. You're really mesmerizing, you know? But don't worry, I'm not like her. I genuinely like you."

Before he could finish, I asked, "And what about that man?"

His eyes lit up at my question. "That guy is clearly a player. Just look at how he's dressed—he's obviously wealthy. He's clearly married but thinks taking off his wedding ring will hide it, though the mark it left only gives away what he's trying to conceal.

"He wants to play the savior, which is a common pitfall for men. Rich men are often players, wanting to have their cake and eat it too. Their attitude is basically if a woman comes their way, they won't say no."

I let out a soft, derisive laugh and glanced at the waiter with amusement. "You seem to know men quite well. Go on, bring a few more bottles of expensive red wine. It'll count toward your commission."

A surprise and grateful "thank you" echoed in my ears, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly.

As I turned to head back to the private room, my gaze unexpectedly met Matteo's.

Under my indifferent stare, Matteo's expression darkened gradually. "What are you doing here?"

I scoffed and replied, "Can't you tell? I'm here to have fun, of course."

"Come home with me right now."

Leaning lazily against the railing, I couldn't help but let out a faint, dismissive hum. "Sofia has run off."

Matteo glanced toward the flustered Sofia, who was already nearing the corner, and took a step as if to follow her. But then, as though remembering something, he turned on his heels and walked toward me instead.

"I'll take you home first."

I couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "That won't be necessary. Plenty of people can take me home, so there's no need to trouble yourself. Besides, that place isn't my home anymore, because I don't want it."

"Was that man just now one of the many people you claim you can take you home?" Matteo accused sharply. "You'd even accept someone like him?"

"Oh? And just what kind of person are you referring to?" I retorted sarcastically. "Surely you haven't forgotten that you once worked as a waiter too."

I knew full well this was his sore spot. He hated nothing more than others bringing up the darkest moments of his past and the inglorious beginnings that would always be a thorn in his side.

Matteo's face turned ashen. Without another glance in my direction, he turned and walked away.