Chapter 3
In the stairwell, Alessandro pinned the tingleader down, unleashing a barrage of merciless punches until they were all bleeding and pleading for their lives.
“Oh God, Mr. Valentini, we’re so sorry! For Christ’s sake, let us go! It won’t happen again!”
“Get the hell out! Show your faces around her again, and you’ll regret ever setting foot in Milan!” His rage–filled command sent them scrambling away in terror.
A crowd had gathered to watch. Ignoring their prying eyes, Alessandro helped Sofia up. “Are you hurt?”
Sofia collapsed into his arms, tears streaming down her face. “I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much.”
Alessandro’s eyes darkened as he lifted her into his arms, pushing through the crowd. In his haste to protect Sofia, he accidentally shoved Aria, causing her to fall against the hard stairs.
Her head hit the edge, opening a bloody gash that sent the onlookers into a panic.
“Oh my God, she’s bleeding badly! Someone call 911!” The crowd erupted in concerned voices.
Pain seared through Aria’s skull as cold sweat broke out across her skin. Warm blood seeped between her fingers, dripping onto her eyelashes like lead weights.
She watched Alessandro’s retreating figure, never looking back, and tasted bitterness in her mouth.
Once, when she’d cut her finger preparing homemade risotto for him – his favorite comfort food from childhood- he’d fussed endlessly, insisting on calling a doctor, worried about scarring. When she’d called him overprotective, he’d kissed her hand and whispered, “Cara mia, you’re the most precious thing in my life. When you’re hurt, I hurt more. Our life is better now – you don’t need to do these things anymore. This hand will wear my ring someday – we can’t let it scar.”
Now, she was injured, and he didn’t even glance back.
And the ring he’d promised her adorned another’s finger.
At the emergency room, Aria went through the motions alone – registration, treatment, pharmacy. It was well past midnight when she finally made it home.
The pain kept her awake all night. Alessandro never came home.
The next morning, while changing her bandages with trembling hands, she saw Sofia’s latest post – a video of Alessandro tenderly caring for her ankle, his touch gentle as he applied the medication.
Aria watched it repeatedly until her vision blurred with tears, finally falling into an exhausted sleep.
Darkness had settled when her phone’s vibration jolted her awake. Alessandro’s voice came through immediately, crisp and commanding: “Private dining room, La Villa. Come now.”
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I Love You So Much. But I Just Don’t Like You Atty
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She hesitated, then forced herself up After pleding odd water on her fare, deed that time
restaurant
The moment she opened the den, the soft eye red and pity, playing fed is to pesteriion
Alessandre’s pars locked onto Aria, his expression intestate e teden with intensy
The silence stretched und Arta Drally bake it. Why am!
Alessandro leaned forward, adopting the posture he weed in board meetings. “Those men pesterday did you send
them to harass Sofis?”
Aria caught the flash of triumph in Sofia’s eyes and understood immediately this entire scene had been her orchestration.
“No,” Aria said, a biner smile playing at her lips. “I don’t know them. I have no interest in such petty games.”
Alessandro’s expression remained glacial. His voice was controlled, dangerous in its softnes: “When Sofive left years ago, I let her go completely. Seven years we’ve been together, Aria. You should know where my heart lies. Yes, the Rossis have fallen from their pedestal. Yes, many will try to take advantage. But you. He paused, disappointment heavy in his voice. “I never expected this from you.”
The words hit Aria like shards of ice.
Memories flooded her mind the countless nights she’d held him through his despair, the endless hospital visits searching for a cure, his silent devastation when doctors claimed his blindness was permanent
The golden boy of Milan’s elite, struck blind protecting another woman. Yet now, he dismissed those seven years of darkness as if they’d never existed the same way he’d dismissed her injury yesterday.
Her eyes stung as she thought of the marriage certificate she’d seen, officially stamped with both his and Sofia’s names. “Seven years together,” she echoed softly, “and only now do I truly understand where your heart lies.”
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that a housekeeper’s daughter would hardly have the connections to orchestrate an attack on someone of Sofia’s status,” Aria replied with a hollow laugh.
Despite laying everything bare, Alessandro’s expression showed no sign of belief. Exhausted, Aria took a deep breath and gave up trying to explain.
“Since you won’t believe me, just tell me what do you want me to do?”
Alessandro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Apologize, Aria. When you’ve done something wrong, you need to say you’re sorry.”
Sofia, who had been playing the wounded victim perfectly until now, suddenly spoke up. Her voice dripped with false sweetness.
“Oh, let’s skip the apology,” she said, gesturing to the row of wine bottles on the table. “If you’re truly sorry, prove it
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I Love You So Much. But I Just Don’t Like Yon’Arty
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Chapter 3
by drinking these.”
