A Saint's Desecrated Medallion

And so, Silvana moved in. The family of four was finally "reunited." The moment the two children saw Silvana, their faces lit up with pure, unadulterated joy.

The younger one, Chiara, couldn't contain her excitement and blurted out, "Mamma!"

Fortunately, Julian was quick. He pulled me into his arms possessively, kissed my cheek, and then chuckled. "Our little princess is calling for you, my love."

But the supposedly "adopted" twins, Dario and Chiara, had been in the Valachi house for three months. In all that time, even when I’d tried to win them over, they had never once looked my way.

Now, forced to keep up the charade, Chiara shot me a vicious glare before saying with a pout, "Mamma, I want that spiky fruit. Peel it for me."

The fruit had a tough, thorny rind that would prick my fingers. She wanted to hurt me. All because she thought I was competing with her real mother for her papa's affection.

Chiara had often made such demands. I had always assumed she was just a child testing boundaries and had fulfilled her requests without a second thought. But now, seeing the undisguised malice in her eyes, my heart turned to ice.

"If you want it, ask one of the maids to peel it."

Julian moved to stand between us, taking my hand gently. "My wife's hands are for restoring priceless works of art," he said with a soft smile. "I can't even bear to let her do something like this for me."

Silvana's expression immediately darkened, a flash of pure hatred in her eyes as she glared at me in silence.

Then, out of nowhere, she suddenly asked, "Julian, where is your St. Christopher medallion?"

Julian always wore a medallion around his neck—one I had personally sought for him. I had made a pilgrimage all the way to Sicily, kneeling on every single stone step of the sacred mountain to reach the oldest church, just to have this medallion blessed. The medallion had been personally blessed by the bishop, and Julian, deeply moved, had worn it ever since, never taking it off.

Now, his chest was bare.

"The medallion?" Julian froze. "I was wearing it this morning—"

Just as he was about to anxiously search for it, he looked up and met Silvana's smoldering gaze. Her face flushed as she slowly licked her lips. Then, as Julian watched, she discreetly slipped a hand between her legs, shifting her body just so and letting out a soft, breathy moan.

"Ah… Julian… my stomach hurts. Can you help me upstairs to lie down for a bit?"

Her meaning was unmistakable.

Julian's breathing grew heavy. He lowered his voice and said, "Alessia, I'm going to help Silvana upstairs. You watch the children."

Without waiting for my reply, he eagerly guided Silvana toward the staircase.

My heart went completely cold. I instructed the maids to take the children to their rooms, then quietly followed them upstairs.

The bedroom door was ajar. Julian had been in such a rush he’d forgotten to lock it.

"Are you insane? You put my medallion in a place like that!"

Julian was scolding her, but his voice held no anger—only a raw, suppressed excitement.

"Ah… Julian… it's too deep. I can't get it out. Please, help me…"

Silvana guided his hand. A moment later, I heard the clink of metal on the floor. A medallion, stained and soiled, rolled slowly to a stop at my feet.

I closed my eyes in despair. The medallion I had so devoutly prayed for—a token of my faith and love—was now just a prop in their filthy game.

They didn't even try to hide it, trampling on my love and faith right before my eyes. I no longer wanted this marriage. I no longer wanted this man.