Worn by Love and Hate

Seven years ago, my mafia husband, Sergio Wexler, had me committed to a psychiatric ward.

On the day I was released, I changed my name, cut my hair short, and vanished like a ghost.

Seven years later, we meet again at the grave of my brother, Luca Lorusso.

The bouquet in his hand falls with a soft thud.

Sergio clenches his fists tightly, barely holding back emotions that threaten to break through his usual calm.

"Janella, why the short hair? I almost didn't recognize you. Where have you been all these years? After that fire at the psych ward, I pulled every string I had, but I never got any leads on you. I've been looking for you for seven years. I even thought you were… dead."

When I stay silent, he rubs his red-rimmed eyes. "You're avoiding me, aren't you? Do you still hate me for having you locked up? Believe me, I had no choice."

I let out a bitter laugh.

Sergio killed Luca to become the Don. He slept with Luca's woman and locked me in that dark, windowless "special ward", nearly erasing me from existence.

And now, here he is at Luca's grave, playing the victim.

To me, any love and hate I had for Sergio died long ago in that tiny, suffocating ward.

Now, he's just a stranger to me.

After all this time apart, I felt nothing at all.

I avoided my ex-husband, Sergio Wexler, and walked straight to the grave of my brother, Luca Lorusso.

Sergio didn't move. He just stood there like a statue, watching me.

I bent down and gently laid a lily on the stone.

In the photo, Luca looked at me with such affection. But his smile was frozen forever at 27.

If he were still here, I'd be curled up in his arms, acting like a child. No matter how hard things got, he would never let me suffer.

But he was gone.

When I ended up in the forensic psychiatric ward later on, there was no one left to protect me.

"Luca, I'm back," I whispered as I traced the cold stone's edge. "I've got some good news I want to tell you myself."

Before I could say more, footsteps sounded behind me.

Sergio came up to my side and held out a black velvet box.

"I promised you back then that I would design a piece of jewelry for you every year on your birthday. I couldn't find you, so I kept them all."

He opened the box to reveal seven carefully arranged pieces of jewelry. From diamond studs to a pearl necklace, each piece was expensive. Everything also had my name engraved, carved by his own hand.

Sergio had put a lot of thought into it, but I only glanced once, then lost interest.

His hand froze mid-air. He seemed surprised by my rejection, as a flicker of hurt crossed his face.

"You don't like them? I can make new ones. Anyway, let's have lunch.