Chapter 3

• [Gianna POV]
• The door to the top floor guest room was slammed shut.
• I could hear the sound of the key turning clearly, followed by the heavy footsteps of the bodyguards pacing outside the door.
• The room was quiet.
• Moonlight seeped in through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
• I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at my hands.
• There was no trembling, no fear at this moment.
• Just a newfound clarity, as if waking up from a long nightmare.
• The last shred of feeling for Vincent died completely in that moment.
• The man who made my heart race at the club.
• The man who smiled gently at me at the wedding.
• The man I thought I could rely on—he never existed from the beginning.
• There was only a monster pretending to be his brother for power and desire.
• And all I felt inside was anger at being deceived, and a thirst for revenge.
• I stood up and walked to the window to survey the outside.
• Fourth floor, about twelve meters from the ground.
• Below was a neatly trimmed lawn, with a row of sturdy oak trees at the edge.
• If I calculated the angle and landing point correctly...
• I took out a seemingly ordinary pen from my jacket pocket.
• It was a gift from my father on my eighteenth birthday.
• It looked plain on the surface, but it was actually a specially modified escape tool.
• I unscrewed the pen and took out a high-strength steel wire from inside.
• Although the wire was thin, it could withstand at least one hundred and fifty kilograms.
• I tore the bedsheet off the bed, weaving it into a rope that was long enough.
• I had learned these skills when I was very young.
• A daughter of the Moretti family could never just be a decoration.
• I securely tied one end of the rope to the radiator pipe and threw the other end out the window.
• I changed into a black tracksuit, and tied my long hair into a high ponytail.
• Then, I did a final sweep of the room.
• I walked to the desk and took out a document from my bag.
• The divorce agreement.
• I had prepared this agreement long ago, with my neat signature on it.
• I placed the agreement in the center of the table, and placed a tarot card next to it.
• The Hanged Man.
• In the interpretation of the tarot card, the Hanged Man symbolizes sacrifice, waiting, and a complete reversal of perspective.
• Vincent thought he had the whole situation under control, thinking I was just a useless pawn in his hands.
• But he would soon realize that he had underestimated his opponent.
• I grabbed the rope, and straddled the windowsill.
• The night wind was cold, blowing through my hair. But my heart was colder than the night wind.
• I started to descend slowly, my movements light and silent.
• When my feet finally touched the grass, I felt a long-lost sense of freedom.
• Real freedom.
• But I didn't leave immediately.
• Instead, I walked to the outside of the main mansion of the estate, where there was a surveillance camera.
• The red indicator light blinked in the darkness, recording everything.
• I looked up at the camera, my face clearly visible in the moonlight.
• Then, I looked into the lens and mouthed clearly, "Vincent, Violet, I will settle this score with interest."
• With that, I turned and walked towards the estate's main gate.
• The guard at the gatehouse was dozing off, completely unaware of a shadow silently climbing over the side gate and leaving.
• I walked on the road leading to the city, took out my phone and dialed a number.
• "It's me."
• I said softly, "Send a car to pick me up. Yes, now."
• There was a surprised voice on the other end of the phone:
• "Miss? Aren't you—"
• I cut him off, "Plans have changed. I'm going home."
• Twenty minutes later, a black sedan pulled over on the side of the road.
• The driver was a middle-aged man with a scar running from his temple to his jaw.
• When he saw me, a hint of shock flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his calm, professional demeanor.
• "Miss, do you need medical assistance?"
• "No. Just take me back to Chicago."
• "As you wish, Miss."
• The car sped through the night.
• I leaned back in the leather seat, watching the passing lights outside the window.
• A year of lying low had come to an end.
• Now, it was time for Vincent Vance and Violet Croft to know, they had messed with the wrong person.