Chapter 3

Serena

Sure enough, my desperation made Dante hesitate.

After a long moment, he finally spoke. "Give me your new address. I'll have my men drop off your monthly cash envelope and restock Lucia's inhalers tomorrow."

Since we had moved out, I wasn't about to let him know where we lived.

I shook my head. "Don't bother. Lucia and I will come to the estate to get it tomorrow."

My icy distance seemed to strike a nerve. He frowned, his tone turning sharp and impatient.

"Serena, you are my wife. Lucia is my daughter. If I say I'll provide for you, I will. Why do you have to act like I'm starving you?"

I didn't stay to listen. I just turned and walked away.

I knew it was pathetic to beg for his scraps. But without my job, I had to secure that cash and medicine to make sure my daughter survived the winter.

The agonizing despair of freezing to death was a lesson I only needed to learn once.

The next day, I held my daughter's hand as we walked up the sweeping driveway of the Moretti estate.

From a distance, I saw Dante and Alessia standing together in the courtyard. Matteo was running around with a custom, five-thousand-dollar RC drone.

"Mama, this is so fast!" the boy shrieked in delight.

Alessia gave Dante a soft, affectionate look before gently guiding her son. "Who bought you the toy, Matteo? What did I teach you to say?"

The boy immediately caught on. He ran over and hugged Dante's leg. "Thank you, Papa!"

That single word froze me and my little girl in our tracks.

Seeing us standing there, a rare flicker of panic crossed Dante's face. "Serena, let me explain..." he started.

"Matteo had a meltdown this morning about his father. To calm him down, I let Alessia use your cash envelope for that drone."

Dante rubbed his temples. "It's just money, Serena. I'll have the accountant get you another batch next week."

Next week. I should have known.

Alessia would never loosen her grip that easily. And in Dante's heart, my daughter and I were just an afterthought he could always delay.

I didn't cry or throw a fit. I just clenched my fists and said calmly, "Dante, you promised me that cash and the asthma meds yesterday."

My persistence instantly made his face turn cold. "Are you ever going to stop being so petty?"

"Matteo lost his actual father! I promised my brother I would take care of them. Look at yourself—throwing a fit over some cash in front of a grieving child?"

His brother's son lost a father. But my daughter had a living father who acted like she didn't even exist!

At that moment, Alessia saw an opening and handed me an elegant bakery box.

"Serena, Matteo was just being a little dramatic. I told Dante the drone was too much, but he insists on spoiling him..."

"Here, we bought this box of imported pistachio macarons. Matteo took a bite and didn't like them. Take them."

She smiled with pure venom. "It would be a crime to throw such expensive food in the trash. You two can have it."

Inside the box were half-eaten luxury pastries—filled with tree nuts.

Meeting the hidden smirk in Alessia's eyes, my anger finally reached its boiling point. Before I could slap the box away, my daughter suddenly tugged at my hand.

"Thank you, but no," Lucia said, her voice eerily calm.

She looked up at Dante. There was no longer any love or trust in her eyes—only a cold, heartbreaking irony.

"You used to tell me that if I ate tree nuts, my throat would close up and I would die," she said softly. "Did you forget your own words, Papa?"