“Divorce her immediately, Vincenzo,” she said coldly. “I won’t allow trash like her to carry our name.”
That was when I finally lifted my head.
“No need,” I said, my voice shaking but steady enough to be heard. “The papers were filed this morning. You can keep your son. I don’t want anything from this family anymore.”
Vincenzo froze.
Confusion. Shock. Something like fear flickered across his face.
Before he could speak, his mother stepped forward and slapped me so hard my ears rang.
“How dare you talk like you have a choice?” she hissed. “You should be grateful we ever accepted you!”
Whispers erupted instantly around us.
“She should be locked away.”
“She’s unstable.”
“She’s losing her mind.”
“She won’t survive without them.”
My phone buzzed.
One message lit up the screen:
Divorce approved.
For a moment, everything blurred.
Then I smiled.
Small. Sharp. Dangerous.
I wiped the blood from my lip, lifted my chin, and walked toward the gates.
Vincenzo’s voice shouted after me.
“Olivia! Where do you think you’re going?”
I didn’t turn around.
“Somewhere you’ll never control me again,” I said.