Seven Days to Say Goodbye

The next day, when Damian returned to the estate draped in the morning chill, he was met with my hollow, expressionless face.

Sensing a shift, he tried to act casual, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Selena, I told you not to wait up."

He reached out for an embrace, but I subtly stepped aside.

The deadness in my eyes seemed to unnerve him. Even though I was standing right in front of him, he felt a sudden, inexplicable distance—as if I were already fading away.

"Selena, I know I’ve been preoccupied lately," he said, a rare note of guilt in his voice.

"The day after tomorrow is your birthday. I promise I’ll cancel all Commission meetings. I’ll spend the whole day with you, okay?"

I forced a small, thin smile onto my porcelain-pale face. "Okay."

Damian let out a sigh of relief.

When my birthday arrived, he was unnervingly energetic, as if overcompensating for his absence. Throughout the drive, he talked incessantly about the family’s future expansion, trying to spark the "loyalty" I was supposed to feel as a Moretti.

He took me to an exclusive restaurant.

But just as the main course was served, his phone buzzed violently.

He glanced at the screen, and his brow furrowed. That fleeting warmth in his eyes was instantly replaced by sharp, frantic anxiety.

"Selena, I have to take this. It's an emergency family signal."

I nodded silently, a cold dread settling in my gut.

Sure enough, Damian returned a moment later, his face a mask of practiced regret.

"I am so sorry, Selena... something happened with Evelyn. I have to go check on her..."

"Okay," I said, cutting off his list of excuses before he could even start.

Damian blinked, his apologies catching in his throat. He looked almost foolish.

"Family security comes first," I said tonelessly. "As the heir, it's your duty to protect our people. I understand."

A look of immense relief washed over him.

He hurried out the door, a draft of cold air trailing behind him.

"Selena, don't worry! When I get back, I’ll throw you a celebration that will be the envy of the whole city!" his voice called out as his tires screeched against the gravel.

There won't be a next time, Damian.

I sat alone, slowly cutting into the cake that symbolized my birth.

I was an orphan who lost both parents. In the Mafia world where bloodline is everything, I had been the lowest of the low—no name, no pedigree. Even the beggars looked down on me.

The first bit of warmth I ever felt was from a teenage Damian.

Back then, he had smiled and said, "You poor little thing, why are you crying in an alley on Christmas Eve?"

"Now that you’ve found me, you’ll never be alone again. Every Christmas, every birthday—I’ll be right by your side."

From that moment, I gave him my heart, my soul, and my absolute loyalty. I saw him as my only salvation from the dark.

But in the end, he chose Evelyn. He left me behind.

A tear fell onto the expensive chocolate cake. I took a bite. It was bitter, salty, and not sweet at all.

You lied to me, Damian. In the end, I'm still alone.