CHAPTER TWELVE

Amore had cried to her mother countless times, but Mary always remained gentle — soft, unshaken. She would simply hold Amore in her arms and cry with her.

“Amor darling,” she would whisper, “things will soon get better. You just have to grow up.”

But when Katarina sneered that Amore was only clinging to Tony because of her family name, Amore wanted to scream. She wanted to tell her that at home, she was nothing.

She hadn’t even met Tony through anyone important — it was by pure chance. They had started hanging out casually, and soon, he was introducing her to his friends. Tony was there for her when no one else was. Whenever she was blamed for things she didn’t do, Tony defended her. When she was in danger, he always showed up. And when she ran away from home after telling herself she’d had enough of her stepmother’s cruelty, it was Tony who found her every time.

If every girl carried a superhero in her heart, then Tony was definitely hers.

He had saved the lost little girl she used to be — and given her warmth.

****

Dinner that evening ended in tense silence. George had stormed out of the dining room, and Lisa trailed after him without a word. Amore stood up quietly, ready to leave.

Mary hurried after her at the door.

“Don’t take it to heart, dear,” she said softly. “Your father is just stressed. Things have been hard lately. Stefan wants a Lamborghini, and your dad can’t afford it.”

Her voice trembled with sympathy — as though not buying Stefan a Lamborghini were some kind of tragedy.

Amore stared at her, unable to even name what she was feeling. Maybe it was a mix of anger, pity, and deep exhaustion. Mary had always been old-fashioned, and to her, having a son meant everything. When she couldn’t give George one, she carried the guilt for years. So when Lisa brought Stefan into the family, Mary had thrown herself into raising him — doting endlessly on the boy. Even Amore had been pushed aside.

Unbelievable, right?

That was her mother — Mary.

Amore had been angry about it for years, but nothing ever changed. Mary always had the same answer:

“I can’t let your father’s family line end with him.”

****

“Mom,” Amore said finally, her tone firm, “if Stefan wants that car, he should earn it. He’s in his twenties, still asking for more handouts. How is he supposed to run the family business or settle down if he keeps acting like this?”

“What kind of talk is that?” Mary’s voice rose. “He’s working now. He has big clients coming in. He needs a car that befits him! If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t ruin his chances.”

She kept at it until Amore finally sighed and agreed to figure something out. Only then did Mary smile — a sweet, relieved smile. Amore didn’t return it. She just felt drained.

****

Back at the mansion, she collapsed onto her bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

When her phone rang, she reached for it half-asleep — it was Nora Powers, Tony’s sister.

“Amore!” Nora’s voice came booming through. “I heard he cheated again — and the woman’s pregnant!”

“It’s a false alarm,” Amore replied flatly. “The pregnancy isn’t his.”

“Sweetheart, nobody does stupid things accidentally. They do them because they enjoy it.”

Amore raised an eyebrow. “Did you just insult me?”

“You caught that? I’m impressed,” Nora teased. “Anyway, June and I booked a private suite at Chelsea Hotel Club tonight. Full room of male escorts — guaranteed fun. Come hang out with us. You’ll leave happy.”

The thought made Amore feel sick. “No, thank you. I’m staying in tonight.”

“Cut the crap. If you’re late, I’ll send them over to you,” Nora warned. “They’ll serve you there.”

Amore knew Nora well enough to know she wasn’t bluffing. With a weary sigh, she dragged herself out of bed

****

She was just getting off a call with Josh as she pulled into the parking lot of Chelsea Hotel when it happened — a sharp crash jolted her forward. Another car had slammed into hers.

The impact threw her against the steering wheel, knocking the breath out of her chest. She winced, fumbling with her seatbelt, struggling to unbuckle it. She had just reached for the door when a sharp bang on the window made her freeze.

A woman stood outside, her hair roughly tied back, her face twisted in fury. Amore instantly realized she must be the one who had hit her.

Amore stepped out slowly, still a little dazed — and was struck by how much the woman reminded her of Katarina, especially with the same air of arrogance she carried.

“What are you looking at?” the woman barked. “Hurry up and pay! My car just got in today.”

Amore barely had time to catch her breath.

The woman’s gaze swept over her, from head to toe, pausing to scoff at her simple outfit. “Well, if you can’t afford it, you can at least apologize,” she sneered. “On your knees. And maybe… maybe I’ll think about letting this slide.”