A private dinner gathering. Low lighting. Crystal glasses. Zachary lifting a fork to Nina’s lips, bending close to murmur something only she could hear. She laughed freely, tipping her head back, utterly shameless.
He looked… light.
Unburdened.
Like a man who hadn’t lost a single thing.
When the doctors finally cleared me for discharge, I left alone.
No driver sent by the estate. No bodyguard. No assistant hovering with instructions. Not even a courtesy call. I walked out carrying a thin hospital bag, the realization settling in with brutal clarity—I had been erased completely.
The thought of returning to the Moretti estate twisted my stomach. Every corridor, every room, was soaked in memory. But my passports, legal documents, and personal files were still there. Everything I needed to disappear.
I had no choice.
And then—because cruelty apparently wasn’t finished with me—I saw them.
They stood just outside the maternity wing.
Nina looked luminous, already basking in attention like a woman stepping into her rightful place. Zachary hovered close, one hand resting at her lower back, guiding her with proprietary ease, as though she were already the Donna of the family.