Invalid Pact, Irresistible Pull

"What dissolution process?" Tommaso asked with a frown, but he was listening to Gelsomina's increasingly urgent crying on the phone and completely missed what I'd said.

"Tommaso, where are you? I need you! The doctor says the drugs I took before have side effects!"

"I'm on my way," Tommaso said to me anxiously. "We'll talk about this when we get home."

He left in a rush, clearly not having heard what I'd just said. And if he did, he'd chosen to ignore it.

Over the next two weeks, I rested at the private hospital. The burns in my stomach needed time to heal. The doctor said it would take at least a month for me to fully recover.

Since then, I received photos from Gelsomina every day—photos of her and Tommaso on the beach, where she wore a bikini and nestled against him; photos of them on a shopping spree, her arm linked through his as they browsed luxury boutiques.

Every photo proclaimed her victory. After all these years, I was used to it. Tommaso's love for her remained as constant as ever.

Tommaso, on the other hand, also sent me encrypted messages. They were all about the reversal surgery.

"Found the best doctor. A leading expert in this field."

"The surgery carries minimal risk. 95% success rate."

"This is your responsibility. How could you hide this surgery from me, Alessia?"

I didn't reply to any of them. On the day of my discharge, Tommaso came to pick me up personally.

He drove a black luxury car with Gelsomina in the passenger seat, whose skin was kissed golden by the sun. She looked radiant.

"Ms. Gallo, please sit in the back," she said sweetly, her voice carrying an undeniable command. "The front is my seat."

I didn't argue with her and quietly slid into the back seat. Soft jazz played inside the car, but the atmosphere was unusually tense.

Tommaso glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "About the surgery—"

"I apologize." Gelsomina suddenly spoke, her voice reluctant, like a petulant child forced to eat her words. "Tommaso said I have to apologize to you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you drink that."

"Apology accepted," I said flatly.

Tommaso breathed a sigh of relief and started the car. The engine's roar echoed throughout the underground garage.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"A private auction," Tommaso said. "The Torrino family is auctioning some valuable items of art and antiquity."

The car headed toward Cromer's industrial district, passing abandoned factories and warehouses before finally stopping in front of what looked like a deserted building. This was the mafia's secret auction house. Only those with real power could enter.

Several bodyguards in black suits stood at the entrance. They recognized Tommaso and immediately stepped aside respectfully.

The auction had already begun. Representatives from various families filled the hall. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of money.

Tommaso bid on a Dornwich beachfront villa, and bidding closed at 30 million dollars. He had given it to Gelsomina, who excitedly kissed his cheek, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "Thank you, Tommaso!"

Then, I saw the cufflinks. They were made out of antique platinum with exquisite craftsmanship, studded with small clusters of diamonds that glittered under the lights.

Marco had once had a similar pair. They were his grandfather's heirlooms.

I raised my paddle and said, "One million."

The auctioneer nodded in confirmation. "One million from Signora Volpe."

Tommaso turned to look at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, followed by something I couldn't quite read. Was it out of surprise, or perhaps… Tenderness? A complicated look flickered across his face, and his expression softened.