Mrs. Russo’s Last Performance

The next morning, I was dining alone in the vast dining room.

Cassandra walked out of the master bedroom wearing Vincent's oversized silk shirt, the collar open to deliberately reveal the hickeys from last night’s passion on her collarbone.

I continued cutting the bacon on my plate as if she were invisible.

Seeing my lack of reaction, a flash of displeasure crossed her face.

She sauntered up to me and deliberately raised her voice, "I'm sorry, Eleanora. Vincent was a bit too rough last night. Did we disturb your rest?"

She blinked her innocent eyes, as if I were the third party who had stolen her rightful place.

I put down my knife and fork, coolly sizing her up from head to toe, my tone as flat as if I were critiquing a dish.

"Indeed. You sounded like animals in heat."

Her expression soured. Angered by my words, she lunged forward and grabbed my wrist.

With a sharp tug, the necklace around my neck snapped, and an antique silver bird pendant clattered onto the marble floor.

My heart clenched.

That was the token of love Julian had given me, the last thing he left me before his accident.

I hurriedly bent down to pick it up, but she deliberately stuck out her red-soled heel, viciously stomping on the pendant. The fragile silver ornament was instantly crushed.

I snapped. Forgetting all reason, I stood up to slap her.

But my wrist was caught in a viselike grip by a large, strong hand.

Vincent frowned at me, his tone icy, "What the hell are you doing?"

Cassandra immediately threw herself into his arms, trembling as she sobbed, "I just wanted to say hello to her, but I accidentally broke her necklace... and then she tried to hit me!"

"I'm sorry, Eleanora, I didn't mean to. I'll pay you back, okay? Please don't be angry."

She huddled behind Vincent, her voice choked with tears.

Vincent glanced down at the shattered silver pieces on the floor, his tone utterly contemptuous. "It's just a worthless pendant. Buy a new one."

"Was there any need to get violent?"

He flung my hand away in disgust. "Not a shred of grace befitting the donna of this house. I really don't know what my father saw in you."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

He was always like this, pinning all the blame on me without even asking what happened.

Too weary to argue, I knelt, silently gathering the fragments. I clutched them in my palm, letting the sharp edges dig into my skin, before turning and walking out the door without another word.