When the Last Rejection Turned Into a Plea

I stayed awake through the night. At daybreak, I heard car engines downstairs. My parents and Sofia were back.

Even from afar, their angry shouts reached me from outside the door. "You've got some nerve showing your face here, Claire!"

The door slammed open. Anthony Moretti—my dad and a capo of the Falcone family—glared at me. "You ruined Sofia's celebration. Meanwhile, she was in tears, begging us to forgive you. Don't you feel any shame? Apologize to her now."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, telling myself that I only have to put up with this for two more days.

There was a time he used to be protective of me like that. I remembered him comforting me when I got nervous handling a gun for the first time. "It's fine, Claire. Everyone goes at their own pace."

If I fell behind in learning the ropes of the family business, he would personally walk me through the basic stuff again and again without getting annoyed.

Things changed after Sofia showed up, though. She handled the family's finances on her own by 15. One year later, she already stood out among the elite members.

Meanwhile, when I was 18, I couldn't even hold a gun steady. On top of that, I finished dead last in the family's training program.

Before I knew it, she had taken my place as the good, obedient daughter in Anthony's eyes.

The strange thing was how I gradually became more frail after she entered my life. I felt nauseous and dizzy all the time. I couldn't handle the physical training, and even small cuts took forever to heal.

The doctor said it was just my natural constitution and recommended nutritional supplements. But no matter how hard I tried, my health only declined.

I started seeing the disappointment in his eyes. "Look at the difference between you and Sofia, Claire. How did the gap between you two get so wide?

"As the Don's wife, how will you survive the family's power struggles? How will you ever help Rocco carry the weight? Without the marriage agreement, I doubt you would have a place beside him."

Over time, his look changed from being let down to being downright ashamed. It felt like I was the family disgrace, and Sofia was the one who made him proud.

I looked up at her standing in the doorway. She was watching me with her wide, innocent eyes. Her face was painted with worry and concern.

Her voice was all soft, and she even had tears glistening in her eyes. She looked so vulnerable that everyone couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Let's put this behind us, Claire. Can we go back to how we were when we were kids?"

She was a pro at such an act.

Sofia continued, "Don't tell me you've forgotten about the perfume you mixed for me. Tomorrow is the family anniversary. Could you mix another bottle of perfume? Let's call it a gift to celebrate my promotion."

A hint of relief flickered in Lily's eyes before she suggested, "Isn't this the only thing you're actually good at, Claire? Sofia is giving you a way out. It's more than you deserve. Go on already."

I didn't move a muscle. The smell of perfume hit me, and suddenly, I was thrown back seven years.

Back then, Dad just brought Sofia home. Thrilled, I set out to make her very first personalized perfume, going so far as to carefully seek out the most exotic ingredients.

All it took was her saying, 'I love the scent of rosemary' for me to burn my fingers on its poisonous sap.

I never brought it up, but the perfume ingredients and extracts were basically like poison to someone with a delicate constitution like mine. Getting them on my skin felt like being stabbed.

But I persisted and finally blended the perfect perfume.

Things ended with her having an allergic reaction to it. The family doctor said there was something in the perfume that triggered it.

When she came to, the first thing she did was burst into tears and throw herself into Rocco's arms. "Claire made the perfume with the best of intentions, Rocco. She said it wouldn't hurt to try it. Please don't be mad at her. This was entirely my own doing."

I helplessly stood there in front of the medical room under the heat of his glare. "I didn't know she was allergic to perfume. She never told me that."

He didn't bother to hear my side and locked me in the basement for three days. That was the nightmare of my life.

They didn't give me food or water. All I had was darkness and damp air.

I huddled in the corner, hearing all the cheers and laughter from outside. They threw a party to celebrate her recovery. By the time they let me out, I was so weak that I could barely stand.

Watching Sofia's flawless act, I remarked, "Have you forgotten? You're allergic to perfume."

Bringing that up made the atmosphere in the room suddenly tense.

Just then, Rocco walked in. He overheard us and stopped in his tracks.

Back then, even though I was barely conscious in the basement, I still heard him. He came to check on me in secret at night.

None of that mattered now, though. These days, he was completely on Sofia's side.

She chuckled softly, her voice carrying a hint of unease. "How am I allergic? That was years ago, Claire."

She moved a little closer. "My body is stronger now. I've gotten over the allergy."

As she spoke, she reached out to take my hand. "Take a look. I'm fine."

Her nails dug into my skin, and she just kept pressing harder. The pain got so bad that I had to pull away, and she just happened to fall to the floor.

That was when I saw her other hand quickly brush against her sleeve as she fell.

Then, she landed with a thud and started groaning in pain. The next second, red marks started appearing on her pale cheeks.

Lily screamed and rushed over to her. "Oh my god! Sofia is covered in a rash."

The rash quickly spread from her face to her neck and arms. It honestly looked like a severe allergic reaction.

Anthony looked like he wanted to burn a hole through me, his voice shaking. "What did you do to her, Claire?"

All I did earlier was shake her hand off. But I knew trying to defend myself was pointless.

Sofia leaned against Lily, whimpering in pain. "The itch is unbearable, Mom. But Claire wasn't on purpose."

Even in her agony, she kept putting on her act of defending me, and that really set everyone off.

Anthony saw how red and swollen Sofia's skin was and snapped, "You've gone too far this time, Claire."

Nothing I said could convince them. "That wasn't me."

Rocco stormed over and glared at me with pure hatred. "Stop making excuses. This is the second time. You've hurt her once more."

He carefully picked her up, handling her with remarkable gentleness.

She leaned weakly against his chest, her voice barely audible. "I already said it. My allergy was gone. It could be another reason."

Her eyes were on me as she spoke, and I noticed the smug look in her eyes. No one else saw it.

Rocco was shooting daggers with his eyes. "What else could it be? Who else has been near Sophia? Who else in this house is obsessed enough with perfume to carry it around besides Claire?"

Seeing how perfectly this was staged, I was overwhelmed with defeat. She had planned everything—down to the chemicals that triggered an allergy in her sleeve.

He charged at me and grabbed me by the throat, yelling, "I should have known how twisted you are deep down, Claire!"

His grip tightened. I could barely breathe, and my vision started to blur.

But in that intense moment, he saw my pale face and my lips turning blue from lack of air. Seeing me on the verge of death sent a shock through him.

A mix of dread and sympathy made him release me without thinking. I hit the wall, and the thud of my back against it filled the room. The taste of blood in my mouth grew stronger.

Sofia noticed the change in Rocco's expression. "Are you alright, Rocco? You look shaken."

He shook his head, ignored the unsettled feeling, and glared at me. The anger in his eyes hadn't faded at all, looking like he wanted to tear me apart.

He spat, "I never should have agreed to marry you if I knew you were so twisted inside. Get lost! I don't want to see your face again."

I dropped to the floor, done trying. I knew in my bones that this was the last time.

Their lack of trust didn't hurt me anymore, as my heart had already gone completely numb.