"You need to eat more, sweetheart. A lot more," Father said, then turned to Dante, who was doting on Elena like she was the air he breathed. "And you, give us a grandchild soon, and take care of our girl. We love her so much."
"I know, Don Carlo. For your daughter, I'd do anything. I love her more than anything in this world."
Those were the same words Dante once told me. "I'd do anything for your happiness," he said. But he never said he loved me. Not like that.
My eyes stung. Something inside me pulled tight, the way it always did when the silence around me became louder than everything else.
No one wanted us. Not even my own blood. No one except Vittorio.
I stepped forward, handing my father a gift, a rare luxury watch, the exact brand he loved. It hadn't even hit the market yet. I worked hard just to get it, hoping that after I left, he'd at least remember me when he saw it.
"Father. Happy birthday," I said softly. "Here's my gift."