He laughed, cruel. “You are my daughter, yes. But no Conti. Marry him if you must, but I will never recognize you. You are dead to me. If you return, I will kill you myself. And I don’t bluff.”
I swallowed. “I love Marcello.”
“You love a shadow. You’ll die in that darkness.”
---
Thirty years later, Marcello’s true colors shone through every false word, every promise.
The boy who swore forever, who vowed to protect me, was gone.
Replaced by a man who could kick me down and never glance back. A man who booked a cruise for another woman and left me packing silence.
And I sit, realizing how love so loud became a ghost I cannot escape.
I smiled bitterly, picked up the long-forgotten landline, dialed a number untouched for thirty years.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then—
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end—his.
Older now. Worn by years, yet beneath it all, that familiar, quiet warmth lingered.
I froze. Words wouldn’t come. My hands gripped the phone as if it could hold me together. Tears slipped down, soft but unstoppable.
“…F-father,” I stammered, my voice breaking. “…Bianca. It’s me.”