When The Queen Burned Her Name

When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. Dante sat by my bed, his expression a tangled knot of guilt and concern as he stared at the bandage on my forehead.

"Elara, things were critical back there. I had to make sure Sofia was safe. You understand, the alliance between the Falcone and Moretti families is everything. If anything happened to her, the entire partnership would collapse."

"Be angry. Hate me. I'll take it. Just please, don't shut me out like this."

I lay perfectly still, my expression blank.

Every emotion I had for him died in that car, at the exact moment he chose to shield her.

My chest was a hollow cavity, as if something vital had been carved out, leaving only a cold, howling void.

Dante rambled on, his excuses washing over me, until he suddenly stopped, a desperate idea seeming to spark in his eyes.

"Oh, right! Elara, your birthday is next week. Let me give you your present early. Anything you want, money is no object."

At this, I finally turned my head, my eyes slowly focusing on him. "Then book me a flight. Day after tomorrow. To Monaco."

"Monaco?" He frowned. "You're going back to Europe?"

I gave a slight nod, saying nothing more.

Dante didn't push. He pulled out his phone and booked the flight right then and there.

After he was done, he added, "The family has an important project right now, so I probably can't get away to join you. Go, relax for a while. I'll come get you when I'm done here."

He forced a smile. "A plane ticket is hardly a birthday present. When you get back, I promise I'll make it up to you with something spectacular."

"This gift is more than enough," I murmured, closing my eyes. "It's the most precious thing you could give me."

On the day of my departure, I was up before the sun.

Six hours before the flight, I lined my suitcases by the door. As I was about to call a car, Dante appeared.

His face fell the moment he saw the row of luggage. He strode over, blocking my path.

"What is this?"

My expression was serene. "I told you I was going to Monaco."

The explanation clearly didn't satisfy him.

"To relax? Why do you need this many bags? Are you moving out?"

I shrugged. "A girl needs options when she travels."

Dante stared at me, his gaze darting between the suitcases and my face, a desperate edge in his eyes.

"No, Elara, too much luggage is a hassle. Just buy what you need when you get there. I'll wire you the money."

He was adamant that the suitcases stay, as if leaving them behind would guarantee my return.

As we stood in a silent standoff, his phone blared.

Dante stepped aside to answer. Sofia's saccharine voice drifted from the receiver.

His expression grew increasingly grave, and finally, he had no choice but to leave.

Before he left, he gripped my hand, his hold tight. "Elara, don't be gone too long. Send me your return flight details. I'll pick you up myself."

I didn't answer. For us, this was a one-way trip.

Four hours before takeoff, I changed the apartment's passcode from my birthday to Sofia's.

Then I left a small note on the door:

【Since a new mistress of the house will be moving in, it’s only right the code is her birthday.】

Two hours before takeoff, I gathered every photo of us in the apartment and burned them.

Him, holding me at the top of the Empire State Building, promising me the world; him, slipping an emerald ring on my finger on a Hamptons beach, vowing we'd never be apart; his phone wallpaper, always a picture of me; his private social media, a shrine to our love...

We were once so intoxicatingly in love, certain we would grow old together.

Now, all that remained of those memories was smoke. Our story was over.

One hour before takeoff, I received a photo from Sofia.

She was wearing the Falcone family's heirloom necklace, a smug pout on her face as she posed for the camera.

That necklace, the one that should have been mine, now rested against her collarbone as if it belonged there.

A text from her followed.

【See, Elara? I'm the future Donna Falcone. I'm the one the family wants. Who are you to compete with me? A nobody with a mysterious past?】

【So what if he loves you? I can still wrap him around my little finger. We’ve held hands, we’ve kissed… I wonder what comes next?】

I didn't reply. I simply printed out every provocative screenshot she'd sent me over the past few weeks and arranged them in a neat pile on the coffee table.

Thirty minutes before takeoff, I wrote a short note on the final page.

"Dante, I wish you a happy marriage."

Then, I dragged my suitcase out of the apartment without a backward glance and hailed a cab to the airport.

The time for being Elara was over. It was time to be Scarlet again, the woman who brought the underworld to its knees.