The last time, I'd been drugged and terrified, waking in that car with nothing but pure hatred for Vincent Rossi.

That single emotion poisoned our entire five-year marriage. There was no affection, only fear and bitter resentment.

To be honest? Vincent Rossi's reputation was truly monstrous.

But looking back with clearer eyes… perhaps he wasn't quite the demon the world made him out to be.

He was undeniably handsome. Filthy, obscenely rich.

And… surprisingly, in private, he could be tender.

Maybe because I'd painted him as the villain from the very first day, I'd blinded myself to any redeeming quality.

But I'd been given a second chance. This time, I'd try to see him differently…

Vincent's first words to me were chillingly familiar,"My only requirement is obedience. Don't cause me trouble."

Last time, I'd bristled, my fear morphing into defiance. I had nearly attacked him.

The result? Three days locked in a room without food.

This time, I chose a different path.

"Of course, Vincent," I said softly, meeting his dark gaze without flinching. "I've always been a good girl. I'll do whatever you say."

My response clearly surprised him. I wasn't the hysterical, fighting bride he'd clearly expected.

He didn't comment, simply summoned his butler with flick of his wrist. "Mrs. Rossi will need everything. The best. My wife must look the part."

A veritable flood of designer clothes, exquisite jewelry, and leather handbags arrived at the mansion.

Dressed in that luxury, I looked… different. Confident. Powerful in a way I'd never felt before.

After the quiet, impersonal wedding, I consciously embraced the role of the perfect, obedient wife.

While Vincent managed his empire, I stayed home, diligently mastering the art of cooking. Slow-cooked stews, perfectly seared steaks, decadent chocolate desserts – I prepared everything meticulously, sourcing the finest ingredients myself.

I knew the old adage well, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

And at night… I ensured he found other, more compelling reasons to linger in our chambers. I was attentive, passionate, always leaving him wanting more.

Slowly, I felt Vincent's attitude toward me shift.

He started taking me to high-society events, introducing me firmly as his wife.

He'd occasionally suggest spontaneous shopping trips, just the two of us.

Our marriage was transforming, evolving from a transaction into something that felt real.

I could feel it – a small, guarded space was opening for me in his heart.

Last time, without this fragile foundation, Sophia's return had instantly sealed my doom. I'd been utterly powerless.

The memory of those pit bulls' teeth tearing into my flesh… I'd never forget it.

But this time… this time, I held some of the cards.

Six months passed.

By then, it was patently obvious Vincent had grown… attached. Dependent, even.

He'd call multiple times a day if business kept us apart for more than a few hours.

Slowly, tentatively... against all odds, we fell in love.

…

Then, my mother called. Dad was sick, she claimed, her voice thick with fake tears.

I needed to come home.

But the moment I walked into their lavish foyer, I saw Dad lounging on the plush sofa, scrolling mindless through TikTok. Not a trace of illness on him.

"Dad? Mom said you were seriously sick?"

He lowered his phone, looking momentarily sheepish before his expression hardened.

"Had to tell her something to get you here, didn't I?"

He stood up, jabbing a finger near my temple. "Think you're too good for us now? Living the high life with the Rossis, forgot all about your poor old parents?"

Anger flared, hot and sudden in my chest. They'd thrown me to the wolves. They had acted like I was dead to them the moment I was useful.

"Dad, Mom," I said, my voice dangerously tight. "I remember the text you sent the day I married Vincent. 'You're dead to us now. Don't contact us again.' Ring any bells?"

Mom actually had the audacity to flinch. "Don't be like that, Chloe! We were trying to protect you! To sell the story!"

"Besides," she continued, her voice turning wheedling, "we're family! Now you're rolling in it, you'll just abandon us? After everything we've done for you?"

My frown deepened. "Mom, what are you talking about? Vincent sends you money! A hefty monthly allowance, from what I know. And this mansion?"

I gestured around the opulent room. "He bought it for you! What more could you possibly want?"

Mom's face hardened into a mask of maternal disappointment and greed. "Chloe, have you forgotten your sister? Your own flesh and blood!"

"Mom," I said, my voice dropping to a cold, warning whisper. "Remember, Sophia is dead. To the world, and especially to Vincent. If he hears you talking like this… I can't predict what he'll do."

Her eyes flashed with pure, unadulterated anger.

"Chloe, stop using that as an excuse! It's just us here. No outsiders. So let's be clear, Sophia's in trouble abroad. She needs a billion dollars. You give it to her, and we'll never bother you again."

"A billion?"

I stared, utterly dumbfounded. "Where in God's name am I supposed to get a billion dollars?"

Dad stood up, puffing out his chest. "You don't have it, but Vincent Rossi does! His empire is worth… what? Hundreds of billion? A billion is pocket change to him!"

"You're Mrs. Rossi now! If you can't even manage to get a billion for your own family, maybe you're not cut out for the role after all."

"Vincent has money, yes," I retorted, my voice turning into icy. "But it doesn't grow on trees! And Sophia is the one who chose not to marry him. This isn't my problem. If that's all you dragged me here for, I'm leaving. Vincent's expecting me for dinner."

I turned on my heel and walked out without a single backward glance. Their furious, desperate shouts followed me all the way down the manicured driveway.