Chapter 78 CHAPTER 078

Chapter 78 CHAPTER 078
Anna turned and headed for the café door, never looking back. 

The tall guard stepped forward, holding the door open as she stepped outside before falling in step behind her.

Monica stood at the café table frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Her shopping bag lay forgotten at her feet, as she pressed both hands against her pregnant stomach.

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The car ride back to the mansion was a blur of grey streets and swirling thoughts. 

Anna sat in the backseat, Monica’s words clanging in her head like loose rocks in a tin can.

How could James, the same man she thought couldn’t hurt a fly, the man who brought her coffee in bed, treated her like a princess, and proposed to her on her twenty-fourth birthday in the very park where they’d had their first picnic and promised her forever, also be the same man involved in illegal business, even selling human organs?

Cheating on her with Monica for a whole year was one thing, but she had never expected him to be capable of something so terrible.

He felt like a complete stranger, and Anna couldn’t shake the thought that he was capable of far worse.

She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to process everything.

Could Monica be lying?

No—why would she lie about something so horrible?

Anna’s head began to throb from the onslaught of thoughts.

She let out a sharp sigh, forcing the air from her lungs, and made herself stop dwelling on the thoughts.

James was her past, and so was Monica. She never wanted to cross paths with either of them again.

As the car drove along the main roads, Anna’s eyes landed on a billboard: “Italy is a home for all. Book your trip with us today, and we’ll guide you through all the best sights and adventures Italy has to offer.”

Italy… that’s right. She was going there next week.

A cold, heavy dread settled in her stomach at the thought.

Italy was a place she had never been, and never imagined she would go.

All she could do was hope the trip wouldn’t be as terrifying as she feared.

Anna pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the city blur into the manicured outskirts where Vincenzo’s mansion awaited.

The car passed through the tall iron gates as the evening sky turned purple and orange.

It rolled to a stop in the driveway, and Anna stepped out.

The short guard followed, opened the car’s trunk, and lifted out Anna’s suitcase with a grunt.

Anna moved beside him and reached for it.

“Let me help you carry it inside,” the guard said, adjusting his grip.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll manage, thanks,” Anna replied.

“Suit yourself,” the guard said with a shrug, handing the suitcase over to Anna.

The weight settled heavily in her arms, heavier than she remembered, and she tightened her grip to steady it.

She hefted the suitcase, climbed the grand front steps, and made her way inside, heading toward the staircase that led to her room.

As she moved down the halls and reached the bottom of the staircase, she spotted Camilla leaning against the wall, phone pressed to her ear, laughing.

“…Utterly ridiculous. I told him that if he couldn’t source the proper caviar, the entire event was off,” she said into the phone.

Anna kept her gaze forward and continued walking toward the staircase that led to her room, avoiding any glance at Camilla.

As Anna passed, Camilla’s head turned. Without breaking her conversation, she issued an order. “Go and run my bath. I want it ready by the time I’m off this call. And hurry up.”

Anna ignored her and strode past, keeping her gaze forward. 

Camilla’s laughter died down. “Hey, you? Can you hear me?”

Anna kept her gaze forward and continued moving toward the staircase.

A beat of shocked silence followed, then Camilla’s clipped voice returned to the phone. “Hey, babes… I’ll call you back.”

She ended the call and immediately turned her attention to Anna, heels clicking sharply against the marble as she closed the distance.

Just as Anna reached the bottom of the stairs, Camilla’s hand shot out, clamping onto her upper arm, nails digging into her sleeve as she yanked her to a stop.

Anna turned, her face a cool mask. “Can I help you with something?”

Camilla’s perfectly made-up eyes widened with outrage. “Are you deaf? I told you to go make my bath. You ignored me.”

“I won’t make your bath,” Anna said flatly.

“What?” Camilla breathed, her grip tightening. “How dare you tell me you won’t?”

Anna glanced down at Camilla’s hand clutching her arm, then met her gaze. With a sharp jerk, she pulled her arm free. “I don’t work here anymore. Ask another maid to do that for you.”

“Since when?” Camilla spat, stepping closer. Her cloying, expensive perfume filled the space between them.

“That’s none of your business.” Anna turned to leave.

Camilla grabbed her arm again, harder this time, spinning her back around. 

“Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you stupid bitch,” she snarled. “You’re going to make my bath whether you like it or not, even if I have to drag you there by your hair.”

Anna yanked her hand away and let out a short, humorless scoff. “Don’t you have anything else to do? Do they pay you to be on someone’s neck every day?” Her tone made it clear she had no patience for Camilla’s shenanigans, not today. “I’m not going to make your bath, and that’s final. So don’t fucking order me around. I’m not your maid.

Camilla’s hand shot out and struck Anna’s left cheek, the slap echoing loudly through the quiet hallway.

Anna’s head snapped to the side, pain flaring across her cheek.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she brought a hand to her burning skin, her fingers trembling.

“That hurts, right? Serves you right, you stupid bitch,” Camilla hissed.

Anna snapped her head back and glared at her.

“Don’t fucking look at me that way!” Camilla shrieked.

Anna let go of her suitcase and raised her hand, ready to slap Camilla. 

“What the hell is going on there?” Vincenzo’s voice cut through the tension.

Anna and Camilla turned to look at him. 

He stood at the end of the hallway, stepping out of his office. 

With a soft click, he shut the door behind him and began moving toward them.

He stopped just a few feet away, his presence filling the space.

His gaze swept over Camilla, taking in her flushed face and heaving chest, before landing on Anna, her hand still pressed to her reddening cheek.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

Camilla pointed a finger at Anna. “I’m just putting this stupid maid in her place. She refused to follow my order.”

Vincenzo’s eyes locked on Camilla. “Anna is no longer a maid in this house,” he said firmly. “And you have no right to lay a hand on her.”

“What?” Camilla nearly shouted. “She’s no longer a maid here? Since when?”

Vincenzo didn’t answer. Instead, he moved past her, and moved to Anna's side. 

A fresh wave of anger boiled in Camilla’s chest as she watched him. 

He gently took Anna’s hand away from her reddened cheek, his touch gentle. 

Her skin was flushed against her pale complexion.

Vincenzo traced a finger over the mark, and Anna winced, a sharp intake of breath escaping her.

“It’s just a light bruise,” Vincenzo said, tilting Anna’s face toward the light. “It won’t leave a mark.”

Anna gave a small, eyes fixed on the floor.

Camilla glared at Vincenzo and Anna, her fists and jaw tightening with every second she stared.

“V, if she’s not a maid here anymore, then what the fuck is she still doing here?” she hissed.

“That’s none of your business,” Vincenzo said, turning to Camilla. “What happens in my mansion doesn’t concern you.”

“But V—” Camilla began, her tone switching to a whine.

“Enough, Camilla,” Vincenzo cut her off.

Camilla’s mouth hung open as her eyes darted between Vincenzo’s impassive face and Anna’s defiant one. Then she let out a low chuckle. “V… are you really supporting this thing?” she spat, jerking her chin toward Anna.

“Watch your mouth, Camilla,” Vincenzo growled.

“No, I won’t!” Camilla yelled.

Vincenzo ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh before turning his back on her. 

He glanced at Anna. “Go to your room and rest.”

Anna nodded. “Okay.”

She didn’t look at Camilla again. 

Lifting her suitcase, she began dragging it up the stairs.

As she walked away, Vincenzo’s voice rang out, “We are done talking here, Camilla.” His footsteps echoed in the opposite direction, toward the main halls.

“We are not done talking, V! V—Vincenzo!” Camilla called out, but he ignored her.

“Are you fucking Anna, that cheap maid? Tell me! Is that why you’re on her side? Is that why your room is right next to hers too?” she screamed, forcing Vincenzo to stop in his tracks.