The screen displayed a newly completed acquisition contract. Every asset of the Calvetti family now belonged to me.
"As for you..." I looked Domenico up and down the same way he had once appraised me at the auction, my eyes full of contempt. "You're not even worthy of licking my boots now."
Domenico's face turned deathly pale, but he did not care at all about the wealth and status he had lost. He just stared at me in a daze, as if me being alive was the greatest mercy he could receive.

"It's okay, it's okay..." he rambled incoherently. "What matters is that you're alive. Lucia, can we start over? I got rid of that bitch Alice. I stayed celibate for three years for you. I think about you every day. I've been atoning every day—"
"Celibate for three years?" I let out a cold laugh, cutting off his self-indulgent speech. "You didn't do it to atone. You did it to make yourself feel better, to escape the guilt of killing your wife and children with your own hands.
"Domenico, don't dress up your selfishness as devotion. It makes me sick."
Just then, two adorable children ran out from the VIP room. A boy and a girl, cherubic and beautiful, wore matching suits and dresses. They looked like two exquisite dolls.
They ran to my side on their short legs and hugged my thighs, calling out in sweet voices. "Mommy!"
The little girl looked up. Her eyes were identical to Domenico's when he was young, clear and bright.

Domenico froze as if struck by lightning. He stared at the two children, his lips trembling so badly he could barely speak. "This... These are..."
"These are my children." I stroked the heads of the two little ones, my expression softening with genuine warmth, completely different from the coldness of moments before.
"They're twins. They're three years old now."
Tears immediately poured down Domenico's face.

He reached toward them but stopped, afraid his filthy hands would soil them. His hand hung suspended in midair, his body trembling uncontrollably.
"They're... They're our children..." he choked out, his voice breaking.
"No," I coldly corrected him, my gaze instantly turning icy again. "They're my children. Their father died in that car crash three years ago."
Domenico collapsed completely to the ground. His forehead struck the floor hard, and blood began flowing.
"Lucia, please... give me a chance to make things right... Let me take care of you. Let me take care of the children..."
"Make things right?" I laughed as if I had heard the funniest joke in the world. I crouched down, grabbed his chin, and forced him to look at me. "Domenico, you're worthless trash now."
I bought the Calvetti estate and Alice, but I did not torture her. I simply had someone clean her up and bring her before Domenico.
By this point, Alice had been broken beyond recognition in the red light district. Her body was riddled with disease, with syphilis and gonorrhea eating away at her. She had completely lost her mind.
Her hair was thin and yellow, her face covered in scars. She could only drool and smile vacantly, muttering 'money' and 'men' over and over.
Domenico looked at this woman who had once captivated him so completely that he had killed his wife and children for her. Now, all he felt was endless disgust and revulsion.
He covered his nose and backed away several steps, as if confronted with something filthy.
"This is the 'true love' you once treasured above all else." I stood to the side and said calmly, "Domenico, your taste in people is truly terrible."
Domenico knelt on the ground with his head bowed low. He did not dare look at me or at Alice.
"Kill me, Lucia." He lifted his head, his eyes hollow and his face expressionless. "Dying by your hand would be my best ending."
I shook my head, stood up, and smoothed down my gown. "I won't kill you. You once vowed in church that you would never let blood stain my hands. I hope those words will haunt you for the rest of your life."
I turned to leave, showing him my resolute back. "Spend the rest of your life rotting in regret and pain. That brings me far more satisfaction than your death ever could."