The Politics of Desire

At the dining table, the atmosphere was tense.

Elena and Vincent sat together on one side, looking like a picture-perfect couple. Antonio and Camilla hovered around them with flattery written all over their faces, while Elvira sat alone across from them like the outcast.

Throughout the entire meal, Elvira had to watch Vincent carefully place food on Elena's plate, slice her steak for her, and even gently wipe the sauce from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

That tenderness was a side of him she had never seen before.

"Elena, how did you and Don Allen meet?" Camilla's voice carried a smug excitement as she asked.

A soft blush spread across Elena's face as she replied shyly, "It was at a family charity dinner. I saw a stray cat stuck in a tree and tried to help it, but I almost fell. Vincent caught me. After that, he asked for my number."

She turned to him with a gaze overflowing with affection.

Elvira couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping.

The room went silent at once, and everyone looked at her.

Elena had hated animals since she was little and had killed Elvira's cat back then. There was no way she would ever help a stray. Either she staged the whole thing, or she planned to hurt the cat later.

"What's so funny, Elvira?" Antonio's face darkened as he barked at her.

She ignored him, curling her lips into a bright, bold smirk. "I'm laughing because some people lie so badly you can't even pretend to believe them."

Elena's expression shifted. "When will you bring a partner home then? Let us see what true love looks like for you."

"Bring one home? That won't work," Elvira drawled lazily, her eyes flicking briefly toward Vincent before settling back on Elena.

"There are just too many. Unlike you, I'm not lacking in charm. It doesn't take me three years to snag a single man."

She paused, as if boasting but also mocking herself. "Men who are interested in me can fill the entire Corleone residence to the brim. Mafia bosses and CEOs of multinational companies, it's hard to choose which one to bring first."

"Elvira!"

Antonio slammed his hand on the table, making the dishes clatter. "Can you stop running your mouth for once?"

Camilla's chest rose and fell in anger, but with Vincent present, she didn't dare make a scene. Meanwhile, Elena looked pitiful, her eyes reddening as she sought comfort from Vincent.

Vincent set down his fork, wiped his hands with a napkin, and, under everyone's gaze, gently took Elena's hand from the table.

"Elena doesn't need to compete with anyone," he said, his voice low and firm, filled with possessive adoration. "To me, no one can compare to her. She's the best, and one of a kind."

The words hit like a knife to the chest.

Elena brightened immediately, squeezing his hand back and even lifting her head to shoot Elvira a triumphant glance.

Elvira stared at their intertwined hands, forcing her face to remain composed as her heart twisted painfully. She lifted her wine and downed the entire glass. The burn felt like nothing compared to what she felt inside.

This family dinner was nothing but a humiliating farce.

After dinner, Antonio and Camilla stayed in the living room with Elena and Vincent, chatting cheerfully like a happy family.

Elvira had no interest in pretending. She stood and walked into the garden.

The night wind brushed across her skin. It did nothing to ease the weight in her chest.

Before long, Elena followed, voice soft and sugar-coated with poison. "I've known about you and Vincent being sexual partners for three years."