Chapter 3
He placed a set of silver cutlery and a string of family prayer beads on the bedside table.
His demeanor had softened considerably, his tone carrying a hint of regret.
"Why must you be so stubborn and suffer like this?"
As he spoke, he picked up the prayer beads, intending to put them on me.
"If you just behave yourself, I'll take good care of you in the future."
I jerked my hand away, my stomach churning, feeling instinctive revulsion at the sight of him.
"Don't touch me."
Lorenzo's patience seemed exhausted by my refusal. He angrily slammed the items on the table.
"Isabella, I go to the trouble of finding holy relics for you, and you still can't show any gratitude?!"
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. When I spoke again, my voice revealed no emotion.
"Lorenzo, let's make a deal. I'm willing to sign a lifetime exclusion agreement and give all my remaining territory to you or Marina. I have only one request: let me leave."
I offered my freedom as the final bargain.
Lorenzo was taken aback by this attitude; he hadn't expected me to propose such an "exchange." After a long moment, he shook his head.
"Isabella, your current state isn't just to reassure her, but because you owe Marina a debt."
"I owe her? What do I owe her?!"
I asked in confusion. Lorenzo's lips curled in mockery, saying I truly had a convenient memory.
He said that the first smuggling route I discovered—the arms channel that changed my fate—was a path Marina had developed through countless sleepless nights.
It was I who had stolen it through despicable means, leading to my subsequent prosperity.
"So your current situation is just returning what rightfully belongs to her! Stop pretending to be innocent—I was almost fooled by you again!"
I paused slightly, then recalled that past incident, a bitter smile appearing on my face.
I finally understood the source of their bone-deep hatred toward me.
So in their eyes, I had been a thief from the beginning.
The smuggling opportunity back then was indeed public information—I was just faster and more willing to take risks.
But explaining this now was completely meaningless. For a ruined person, all achievements and mistakes lost their value for debate.
Seeing I no longer argued, Lorenzo gave a cold laugh.
"So, Isabella, you have no right to complain! All of this is your karma!"
I fell completely silent. Lorenzo also lost interest in conversing with me and turned to leave the room.
I stared blankly at his figure for a long while, then buried my face in my hands without making a sound.
Life afterwards became a day-to-day "treatment" process.
Different priests would come every day to guide me in using those religious artifacts.
Lorenzo, seemingly to maintain his "good husband" fa?ade, provided me with only the most expensive items.
I appeared wooden and compliant, speaking less and less.
After more than half a month, they finally relaxed their surveillance of me.
I used an absolutely accurate arms deal tip to bribe a young shepherd from the kitchen.
At four in the morning, fighting through the aching in both arms, I hid in a massive grain cart and left that prison amid the bumpy journey.
Finally, at a small church at the foot of the mountain, I looked back at the lit building, my eyes as calm as still water.
Since you all wished for me to disappear, so be it.
At that moment, Marina was at a grand family gathering, raising her glass to announce to all family members that she had thoroughly defeated me.
Lorenzo stood beside her, his smile radiant.
"I would give anything for you," he gazed at Marina's profile, his eyes filled with adoration.
"I know. We can finally be together now," Marina responded tenderly, and was about to clink glasses with him when hurried footsteps shattered the warmth.
A black-clothed messenger rushed into the hall, heading straight for Lorenzo.
He whispered a few words in his ear.
Monastery. Isabella.
Lorenzo's face grew increasingly grim.
He suddenly pushed Marina away: "What did you say?!"
"Bad news, Mr. Lorenzo! Isabella, she—she's disappeared!"
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