Playing Dead and Breaking the Don-To-Be

Vincenzo Costa and I have been in love with each other for eight years. Everyone knows that the heir of the Costa family loves me more than life itself.

In order to marry me—an orphan—Vincenzo has knelt outside Costa Estate for three days and three nights. At the same time, he has received 99 whips from his father, the Don of the Costa family, which almost kills him.

In the end, Don Edmondo Costa finally agrees to let Vincenzo marry me. But the catch is, Vincenzo must date Sofia Camorra, the Principessa of the Camorra family, and have an heir with her.

So, Vincenzo tells me to wait for him for a little longer.

I end up waiting for a very long time while watching him traveling to Sofia's villa time and again.

At first, Vincenzo still takes three showers and scrubs his skin so much that it turns red. He tells me that once Sofia has given birth to the child, which allows him to fulfill the promise he has made to the Costa family, he'll whisk me far away from the violence and spend the rest of his life with me.

Alas, everything has changed.

Vincenzo no longer showers frequently. He constantly smells like Sofia's perfume now. He doesn't inform in advance whenever he goes on dates with Sofia. To make things worse, there's nothing but affection in his eyes whenever he looks at her.

When Sofia burns up from a fever during her pregnancy, Vincenzo doesn't leave her side at all. She pretends to be gracious by telling him about how understanding she is about his situation. Because of that, Vincenzo wastes no time in admonishing me for being spoiled and pampered.

Through the gap in the ward door, I can hear how close and intimate Vincenzo and Sofia are. At the same time, I notice the flash of provocation in Sofia's eyes.

Vincenzo has made me wait year after year, not knowing that my biological parents have already found me. They want me to go home with them so that they can give me a real home.

That's why this time, I won't be waiting for Vincenzo anymore.

I stood outside the VIP ward of a private hospital.

The voices inside carried through the door, feeling like sharp needles driving straight into my chest.

"Vincenzo, my fever's down. You should go. Ella must be worried."

Sofia Camorra's voice carried a deliberate note of sympathy.

That little play-hard-to-get tactic was so obvious that anyone with half a brain could see right through it.

"Worried about what?"

Vincenzo Costa's voice was full of tenderness. He used to only speak to me like that.

"If she hadn't thrown that water on you, would you have spiked to 102 degrees Fahrenheit? You're carrying the heir of the Costa and Camorra families. I'm not leaving your side."

My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palm until it went numb.

It had been eight years.

Eight years ago, I