Lorenzo picked me up from the clinic himself. The drive was silent.
The car stopped in front of our old home, the penthouse in Manhattan.
This was our home. Our sanctuary. The place we’d built a life. Where we’d spent countless nights tangled in the sheets, whispering secrets into the dark.

The moment the door opened, I froze.
This wasn't my home anymore.
The warm, cream-colored walls were gone, replaced with cold black and gray. The Italian sofa I'd picked out myself was gone.
I walked to what used to be my art studio. My only sanctuary in this cold city.
I pushed open the door. It was a gym now. A treadmill glowed with a soft blue light.
My easel, my paints, my unfinished canvases…

Every trace of me had been erased.
"Bella…" Lorenzo stood behind me, his voice tinged with an awkwardness he couldn't hide. "I… I was going to wait for you to get back before I cleaned up."
"Cleaned up?" I stared at him. "Or erased? Erased every trace that I ever lived here?"
"No," he said quickly, gesturing at the cold machines. "Cassandra was unstable. I had her stay here for a while. She said working out helps…"

Cassandra stayed here?
In our home? Slept in our bed?
Click.
Before I could say anything, the master bedroom door opened. A lazy voice drifted out.
"Lorenzo, you're back! I can't find the hairdryer…"
Cassandra emerged, wearing nothing but one of Lorenzo’s white button-downs. The hem skimmed the top of her thighs. Her hair was damp, and the clean scent of his soap clung to her skin. She looked like she owned the place. She looked like the lady of the house.
She saw me and froze for a second. Then a sweet, innocent smile spread across her face, as if we were old friends.
"Bella! You're out of the hospital! That's wonderful!"
She hurried towards me, arms open for a hug. I took a step back. My stomach turned.
"What are you doing here?" my voice was ice.
"I… I came to see Lorenzo," she said, blinking innocently at him. "I heard you were in the hospital. I was so worried…"
Worried? Worried I wasn't dying fast enough?
Lorenzo jumped in. "Cassandra is just… staying here temporarily. It's easier to look after her." He quickly changed the subject. "Bella, your clothes…"
"Oh, right!" Cassandra said, as if she'd just remembered. Her tone was light and cheerful. "I had all your old clothes thrown out. They had that… prison smell on them. Lorenzo doesn't like it. He said it reminds him of bad times. I figured you wouldn't want them anyway, right?"
A lie. But it was a sharp knife, and it went straight for my heart.
Lorenzo cleared his throat. "Bella, Cassandra meant well. We'll go to Fifth Avenue. I'll buy you the best of everything."
I watched them, a perfectly rehearsed duo. I felt sick.
"Fine," I said flatly. "Let's go."
"Great!" Cassandra chirped like a happy child. "Let me just go change!"
I watched her walk back into our master bedroom like she owned the place. The last bit of warmth in my heart died.
The car stopped in front of a high-end boutique on Fifth Avenue.
"Get my wife some clothes," Lorenzo told the bowing store manager.
"Lorenzo, why don't you go check out the watch shop next door?" Cassandra said, tugging on his arm like a spoiled child. "I'll help Bella pick some things out. A woman knows a woman's taste."
Lorenzo hesitated, looking at me.
"Whatever," I said, my face blank.
He nodded. "Okay. I'll be right next door. Call me if you need anything."
The second Lorenzo was gone, Cassandra's sweet smile vanished. In its place was the cold, vicious sneer of a winner.
She walked right up to me, her voice low enough for only me to hear.
"Do you see now, Isabella? This is the difference between you and me. In Lorenzo's heart, a single one of my tears weighs more than your life."
I stared at her. I said nothing.
"Still playing the saint? You really think Lorenzo loves you?" My silence seemed to infuriate her. Her voice grew sharp. "He's trapped by that ridiculous blood oath! As soon as my last wish is granted, he'll throw you out like trash!"
Just as she finished, a loud noise erupted outside.
BANG! BANG, BANG—
Gunshots.
The store descended into chaos. People screamed and scrambled for cover.
Cassandra’s face twisted into the perfect mask of terror.
But for a split second, I saw it. A flicker of triumph in her eyes. A plan, executed to perfection.
The next instant, Lorenzo burst through the door.
His eyes found Cassandra instantly through the chaos.
"Cassandra!" he roared, lunging toward her without a second thought.
Tears streamed down her face as she threw herself into his arms, clinging to him.
"Lorenzo, I'm so scared! I'm so scared!"