Chapter 1
“Sister, I know the truth of that year,” I whispered into the phone, my voice trembling. “The man behind the explosion of our Richardson Family was not someone else, but my husband, Vincenzo. “He killed them. Sister, please, please take me away.I want to commit suicide by jumping off the building in front of him. Sister, please help me and pick me up when the time comes.” After a long silence, the voice on the other end of the phone was hoarse and firm, “If it is true, we must avenge the whole family and make him pay the price! I will pick you up in a week.” After the call ended, I quickly pulled out the phone card, broke it and threw it into the sewer in the bathroom. After doing all this, my knees were shaking and I almost knelt down, but I gritted my teeth and straightened my body, holding the door frame and walking step by step to the corridor outside. At this time, Madeline’s seductive voice came from Vincenzo’s room. I stood at the door, my heart pounding, half hoping that I heard it wrong, but half knowing that I did not. “Well… Madeline, yours is really tight, I like it so much.” I did not push the door in, scream, nor question. In just a moment, I seemed to die again. I remembered that he had never whispered my name in such a voice in bed. I turned around and walked back, each step passing through those unforgettable memories. Vincenzo was the person I looked up to in my girlhood, a man who always stood on the edge of the night, his eyes as quiet as the night. He was the most dangerous and attractive mystery in my fantasy. So, when he proposed to marry me, I agreed with great excitement, regardless of the fact that he was a dangerous mafia boss. But the day after the wedding, the news of the explosion of the Richardson Family villa became a hot search. I always thought it was revenge by the enemy and begged Vincenzo to help me get revenge. It was not until a year after the marriage that I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his assistant. He wiped the blood from his hands and said sarcastically, “The Richardson Family deserved to die! Twenty years ago, the phone call from Amelia’s father caused 77 members of my family to be shot at the dock before going abroad.” There was silence, followed by a sneer, “Amelia thought I married her because I loved her so much, but in fact I just changed the way to let her continue to atone for her sins and live in pain every day.” I was nailed to the spot, cold all over. At that moment, I finally understood. He rarely touched me and even if he did, it was just casual. I thought he was restrained, but who knew, he was disdainful and unwilling. He blamed me for everything he lost and he wanted me to watch myself wither, collapse and despair bit by bit. I was just a prisoner he carefully kept. In recent years, Vincenzo had become more and more lazy to pretend. He openly brought Madeline to various occasions and doted on her like a wife. She often appeared in our house, leaning on his arms and laughing loudly and he indulged her in all her provocations against me. At first, I thought it was the punishment I deserved. I was the daughter of the man who destroyed everything for him and this price might be just right. I told myself that as long as I was patient and obedient, maybe one day he would let go of his hatred and we could at least treat each other with respect. But I was wrong. Nothing has changed. I did not dare to beg for that humble love again, since I did not owe Vincenzo anything. This time, I would leave with my sister and never come back. The next morning, I cooked myself a bowl of noodles and put out a small yellow lamp. This day was my birthday and the anniversary of my parents’ death. I always felt that fate was too cruel, letting me be born on this day and lose everything on this day. I wiped the remains of my family and gently placed them next to the yellow lamp. It was just a trip to the bathroom and when I came back, the two things were gone. My heart sank and I searched desperately but could not find them. It was not until I heard a giggle at the end of the corridor that I realized where they were. I rushed into Madeline’s workshop. She was sitting on the floor, holding a pair of pliers, twisting my father’s cufflinks out of shape. Without even looking up, she said, “I’m making an art installation with the theme of ‘rebirth.’ I need to use some meaningful materials.” As she spoke, she lifted the string of beads and shook it, smiling, “Don’t you think these old things can only truly come alive after being reshaped?” I looked at the sapphire - the only thing my mother wore before she died. “They’re all dead anyway,” she shrugged, “There’s no point in keeping it, right? Instead of letting it get moldy, you might as well make it into an exhibition.” She threw the remaining broken cufflink into the pile of garbage cloth on the ground, like throwing away a piece of extra garbage. This moment became the last straw that broke my last piece of patience. I raised my hand and slapped her hard in the face, the crisp slap was louder than her laughter!