When the Fog Clears

In the tenth year of being Don Vitelli’s sugar baby, the most reckless man alive was ready to change his ways for a good girl.

On my twenty‑eighth birthday, he told me it would be our last time together and prepared an entire box of protection.

I opened one of the wrappers and asked casually who that good girl was. Caino Vitelli leaned against the headboard and released a slow ring of smoke.

“Your sister. I don’t even know how I fell for her.

“That little fool can barely breathe after we kiss. She’s as pure as they come.”

His tone sounded like a complaint, yet his eyes held a smile.

The wrapper slipped from my hand. I stared at him, unable to move.

Why her, of all people?

From the day I became Caino Vitelli’s sugar baby, I prepared myself for the moment he would discard me. I never imagined it would be because of my sister.

I lowered my head and stopped moving.

Caino did not care about my hesitation. He pulled me onto his lap with the same careless ease he used for everything in his life.

One hand stroked lazily between my thighs while the other palmed my breast, kneading it like it belonged to him. My body betrayed me almost instantly. I felt myself growing wet, my hips rocking toward him before I could stop them.

“Still so responsive, aren’t you?” Caino gave me a long, unreadable look. “You and Amelia are completely different.”

His kiss felt harsher than usual, and it made my mind flash unwillingly to the thought of him kissing Amelia Moretti the same way.

I braced my hands against his chest, breathing hard. My voice shook. “Why Amelia? You know what she did before.”

His expression turned cold. “That was ages ago. Are you really still holding a grudge?”

Holding a grudge. That was all my pain meant to him.

Tears slid down my face before I could stop them.

Caino lost his patience. He flipped me onto the bed, shoved my legs apart, and thrust inside me without warning. Every movement was punishment.

It did not take long before I was sore and swollen, but he did not stop. I reached for him, trying to soothe whatever was boiling inside him. He slapped my hand away, tore my lingerie to shreds, and used the strips to tie my wrists to the headboard.

He grew more frenzied, more out of control. By the end, my body was covered in handprints and his release. Every inch of my skin ached with proof of his anger.

I bit my lip and stayed silent. I did not dare cry or fight back. I let him take everything out on me.

When it ended, I could barely move. I picked up my coat from the floor in silence, careful with every breath so I would not upset him further.

I kept my head down. My voice trembled. “I hope you and Amelia will be happy.”

He leaned close. The smell of smoke surrounded me. His tone carried that familiar superiority. “Sancia, I kept you for ten years. You are a smart girl. You know what to do when you leave here.”

I had imagined our breakup many times. I wondered if we would end with a goodbye or a fight. I never thought his final words to me would be a warning.

Heartbroken, I walked out of the apartment I had lived in for ten years but never truly belonged to.

When the Moretti family adopted me at sixteen, I felt grateful. It meant I would have regular meals and would not have to fight shelter dogs for scraps anymore.

Amelia was only a year younger. She grew up loved and sheltered, unaware of how cruel the world could be.

Back then, I was her protector.

During our senior year, Amelia was tricked into attending a private party thrown by the principal’s son. I knew his parties were never safe.

I rushed there like a madwoman.

Loud music shook the room. Several boys surrounded Amelia, forcing drinks toward her. When she saw me, she cried and begged for help.

I shielded her without thinking.

They refused to back down. To protect her, I drank everything they pushed at me. The liquor burned my throat, and my stomach churned, but I kept going until they finally let her go.

I supported Amelia toward the exit, step by step.

When we reached the car, her phone rang. It was her teacher asking about homework.

She pulled away from me. “Sancia, I need to go back to school. You smell like alcohol. Do not follow me or the teacher will think I am a bad kid.”

I stood frozen. The alcohol hit me hard. My body felt weak. I could not even call after her.

She disappeared into the night, leaving me alone outside that seedy party.

The boys behind me laughed and closed in. Their eyes were full of intent.

I tried to run, but my legs gave out. They pinned me down.

"Amelia ran off, so you'll stay and play with us, won't you?"

What happened that night haunted me for years. It became a shadow that followed me everywhere. It was a gift from Amelia, the girl I risked everything to save.

A hard life taught me that survival mattered more than innocence. What hurt me most was that it had not been my choice.

Rumors spread. Male classmates brushed against me on purpose, made crude jokes, and treated me like I was something dirty.

Amelia refused to admit any fault. She avoided me like everyone else did.

I never expected the sister I loved would treat me that way.

After that, I shut the door on any hope for family.

During my most desperate time, I met Caino.

Over ten years, women came and went around him. None of them made him settle down. Not even me. I only lasted longer than the others.

A sugar baby was still a sugar baby. I never dreamed of becoming his wife, yet I still developed a small attachment to him.

During my weakest year, I told him everything. I only hoped that if he ever settled down, it would not be with Amelia.

Life had a cruel sense of humor.

After leaving heartbroken, I found a hotel and stayed there. I buried myself in work to keep from falling apart.

Just when I finally started to forget Caino, he sent me a birthday invitation.