Done Collecting Your Guilt Gifts

After Lorenzo left, I tossed the casino deed into the safe.

The safes could only hold twenty deeds each. This was the fifth one I'd had to fill.

This collection began three years ago. That was the first time rumors surfaced of Lorenzo having an affair with a young starlet.

He’d rushed home to explain, claiming it was a business move to extract information. To prove it, he’d bought a casino and signed the deed over to me.

When I received it, I actually smiled.

Back then, it felt like an apology, like he cared about my feelings and knew I needed to be placated.

But then, the deeds kept coming. More and more, each one more extravagant and more glaring than the last.

Eventually, I couldn't smile anymore.

Six months ago, on my birthday, he gave me my 80th casino.

That night, I made up my mind. As soon as I collected 100, I would initiate my divorce plan.

Half an hour later, my phone vibrated.

A flirty, wild female voice crackled through the speaker.

"Baby, are you here yet? Ugh, I miss you so much."

It was the surveillance software I'd installed on Lorenzo's phone, streaming audio to my own in real time.

He had gone to see Scarlett.

"You're the one who called me. How much did you drink?" he asked.

She let out a playful hum. "Just kidding. I didn't drink. I just didn't want you to go back to that ice princess."

Lorenzo was silent for a moment, then said coldly, "Scarlett, don't call her that."

She scoffed. "Fine, I get it. No bad-mouthing her—even when she's not here."

"Wow. She'd be so touched to know you're defending her honor," she purred, her tone light but dripping with acid.

Lorenzo took a deep breath. "Come here."

A series of wet kisses followed, then the sound of a door locking.

Silence. They must have gone into the bedroom.

Half an hour later, the software picked up some whispers.

"Enzo, did you take care of that thing you promised me? It's been three days since Ares died," she asked sweetly.

"Yes." He hesitated, but his voice was still gentle. "I'll go with you tomorrow. This has to be a secret. Don't let Isabella find out."

A sharp pain twisted in my stomach.

Ares was Scarlett's beloved horse. I didn't know it had died.

What was Lorenzo helping her with that had to be hidden from me?

Before I could dwell on it, the sounds from the phone shifted as they moved into the bedroom.

The sounds of their passion were long and torturous.

I lay awake until dawn.

I had heard about Scarlett long ago.

She was Lorenzo's teenage first love. They had dated openly until his mother, Caterina, put a stop to it. Caterina had even run a background check on her.

No one knew what she found, but the elders of both families agreed they should be separated.

Lorenzo fought it for months.

But in the end, it was Scarlett who gave up first. She took a deal from Caterina and left for Europe.

Lorenzo had moped for years, right up until our marriage was arranged to consolidate the families' power.

I thought he was over her when he married me.

Clearly, I was wrong.

I clicked on a photo Scarlett had posted, this time of a company's registration documents.

Lorenzo had bought gifts for women before—jewelry, luxury cars, high fashion—but never an asset of this caliber.

This was a first.

The next morning, Lorenzo came home.

He saw the dark circles under my eyes, sat beside me, and pulled me into his arms. "Didn't sleep well last night?" he asked with concern.

"No," I said, rubbing my temples and gently extricating myself from his arms. "Can you make me some pasta? I'm hungry."

"Of course. Anything for my wife," he said with a gentle smile, as if nothing had happened.

He walked into the kitchen.

I picked up his phone and opened his chat with Scarlett.

The latest messages were from ten minutes ago.

[Once you're done placating the Principessa, can you come pick me up? I want to go to the Rossi family cemetery with you.]

[Okay. Don't tell anyone.]

[Don't worry, baby. Love you~]

A chill ran down my spine.

What were they going to do at my mother's Rossi family cemetery?

After breakfast, Lorenzo said he was going to a meeting.

I didn't believe him.

I printed a copy of the old file Caterina kept on Scarlett, then drove to the cemetery.

Two hours later, I walked through the cemetery gates—and sure enough, there they were.

Standing right in front of my mother's grave.