The next day, I went alone to the office of Leo Gallo, the family's Consigliere.

"This is the divorce agreement between Julian and me. I hope the family can approve it as soon as possible."

Mr. Gallo, who was sipping an espresso, paused and immediately picked up the document to examine it.

When he saw both my and Julian's signatures, he let out a long sigh.

"Ella, I thought you and Julian were doing well. How did it come to this?"

Yes, how did it come to this?

My marriage to Julian was an arrangement.

He was the promising Underboss of the Moretti family, and I was a gentle, kind elementary school teacher from a simple background.

Everyone said our union would bring a touch of peace and serenity to this bloody family.

But ever since Isabella returned, all I heard was…

"Mr. Moretti is so good to Miss Bella."

Shaking my head to clear the thoughts, I answered Mr. Gallo's question.

"Mr. Gallo, you can't force matters of the heart. We just want to part on good terms."

Mr. Gallo said no more and placed the agreement in his desk drawer.

"Come back in a couple of days to pick up the final approval."

After leaving his office, I went to a high-end boutique on the family's territory.

As I approached the counter, I saw the very same French perfume displayed on the shelf.

In five years of marriage, I had never bought a single bottle for myself.

Following my gaze, the female manager of the boutique smiled teasingly.

"I saw Mr. Moretti buy several bottles of this just the other day. Did you use it all up so quickly?"

"Mrs. Moretti, Mr. Moretti is so good to you."

My hand, holding my purse, froze.

I hadn't even been home the past few days. Julian had never given me any perfume.

Remembering the scent on him last night, I knew exactly who it was for.

That perfume was for Isabella.

Five years of running his household and dedicating my youth to this family couldn't earn me one bottle of perfume.

But the moment Isabella returned, she got several.

I couldn't tell if I was more hurt or angry. Looking into the manager's envious eyes, I said flatly:

"One bottle of that perfume, please. I'm buying it for myself."

On the fifth day of my countdown.

I first went to Mr. Gallo's to get the approved divorce papers, then headed to the school to hand in my resignation.

It was the holidays, so there weren't many teachers in the office.

I walked over to my desk to pack my things, only to find it piled high with items that didn't belong to me.

The entire surface was completely covered.

My notebook was buried at the bottom, and when I pulled it out, it was creased beyond repair.

A colleague at the next desk told me:

"All of this stuff belongs to the new teaching assistant, Miss Isabella."

"While you were gone, Mr. Moretti personally helped her move it here. He said your desk was empty anyway."

The Miss Isabella she was talking about was, of course, Bella.

A month ago, she had returned to New York after her divorce. Julian had pulled strings to get her a job at this school.

I let out a bitter laugh, moved all her things onto the floor, and started packing my own belongings.

Just as I was about to finish, a sharp gasp came from behind me.

Isabella stood at the doorway, and behind her was Julian, the man who had promised to go to my hometown with me.

"Julian, look!"

"Why are all my things thrown on the floor?"

Julian walked in, his voice laced with blame.

"Ella, it's just a few things. When did you become so petty?"

Isabella clung to his sleeve, her expression pitiful.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Moretti. I just thought since you weren't here, I could borrow the space for a little while."

"I didn't mean to make you angry and have you throw my things on the ground..."

With that, she made a show of bowing to me in apology.

Julian immediately steadied her, his gaze turning icy as he looked at me.

"Ella, don't take it too far."

"Bella didn't do it on purpose. Enough is enough."

How many times had he gotten angry at me for Isabella's sake?

I'd lost count.

Not wanting to be part of this drama, I picked up my box and walked out.

As I passed Isabella, I was suddenly tripped by a foot sticking out.

Julian's eyes widened and he reached for me, but it was too late.

I fell hard, the contents of my box scattering across the floor. My wrist was scraped and bleeding.

Julian took two steps forward and extended his hand to help me up.

Then, as if he saw something, he bent down and picked up two sheets of paper from the floor.

"A resignation letter? And this other one is..."