Chapter 26: To Remember Is Not to Forgive

Vicenzo was looking for Valentina. He found her near the drinks table, her face turned to the side, trying to hide the tears that were already threatening to fall. Valentina’s eyes were red, and her short breathing revealed the effort she was making to keep her composure. He approached quickly, but without drawing attention. This could not turn into a scene. Not there. Not now.

“Valentina,” he murmured, low and firm, “if you start crying here, this will be tomorrow’s headline. And you know that.”

She didn’t answer immediately. She blinked several times, trying to hold back what was already overflowing. Vicenzo kept his tone calm, but his eyes were sharp and hard.

“This is all theater. That’s all. A role you already knew I would have to play. Nothing more.”

Valentina turned her face toward him, her eyes shining with anger and pain.

“Theater?” Her voice came out trembling, but full of venom. “I saw the way you looked at her. You desired that bitch.”

Vicenzo clenched his teeth. His patience, which was already short, evaporated. He leaned slightly toward her, his voice now a cold, threatening whisper.

“Pull yourself together. Now. Or get the hell out of here. Not even you are going to expose me to ridicule.”

Valentina froze. That coldness… she had never seen it in him. Not like that. Not directed at her. Vicenzo’s look was the look of a stranger. A man who would not hesitate to crush any weakness, even if it was hers.

She swallowed hard, her body shrinking slightly. She nodded, her eyes still wet.

“I’m sorry…” she murmured. “It’s just… every time I look at her, I see my brother. Covered in blood. Dead.”

The words fell like a blade.

Vicenzo felt the blow. For a second, the hall disappeared. The sound, the lights, the guests—everything faded away. Only the image of Luca remained. The motionless body. The blood running. The final silence.

I can’t give in to her, he thought. I can’t let myself be carried away. I need to remember why I’m here. I need to avenge Luca.

His jaw locked. His hands closed into fists at his sides. The anger that Giulia seemed to erase with a smile ignited again with force. Burning. Blind.

Valentina noticed.

Inside, she celebrated. She saw the change in his eyes. That spark Giulia seemed able to control with a simple look was now nothing but ice. Pure hatred. And she knew the memory of Luca had done what she alone could no longer do—push Vicenzo away from Giulia.

“You’re right,” he said at last, his voice low but cutting. “This isn’t about her. It never was. It’s about what she took from us.”

Valentina nodded, pretending she was still fighting back tears, but inside the relief was almost sweet. She had done it. At least for now.

Vicenzo turned away without saying anything else. His face was a mask. No visible emotion. But inside, his blood was boiling. He could not allow himself to forget. He could not allow himself to feel. Every time Giulia smiled, he lost himself a little more. And that was unforgivable.

She killed Luca. Even if she didn’t pull the trigger, it happened because of her. And that was enough.

He walked away, his steps hard and determined. Valentina stayed behind, discreetly wiping her eyes and regaining control. The role of the betrayed woman was still hers—but now she had a weapon.

And its name was Luca.

Valentina watched Vicenzo from a distance, her eyes fixed on him like blades. He was surrounded by men in suits and elegant women, all smiling, raising glasses, shaking his hand, congratulating him. It was as if he were the center of a universe she was no longer part of. And that burned.

That should have been her wedding.

That should have been her place beside him.

But there she was—on the margins, ignored, while Giulia, that viper, reigned.

Then Valentina saw her.

Giulia was walking alone toward the side corridor. The dress was impeccable, her steps calm, as if everything were under control. Valentina tightened her grip on the glass so hard that the crystal cracked. She didn’t hesitate. She followed.

In the bathroom, Giulia finally dropped the mask. Alone in front of the mirror, the perfect bride’s smile disappeared. She made a face at her own reflection, as if mocking the image everyone expected from her. She turned on the faucet, letting the water run, but before she could wash her hands, the door opened violently.

Valentina entered.

Seeing her there, so close, was like a punch. Giulia froze. For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Valentina looked like Luca. The same eyes. The same shape of the face. But there was something more—hatred. Pure, distilled.

Before Giulia could react, Valentina moved forward. She grabbed her by the arms and shook her violently.

“Vicenzo is mine, do you hear me, you bitch?”

Giulia didn’t react. She was still stunned by the resemblance. It was as if Luca himself were there, shouting at her. But the voice was different. And the touch was pure fury.

The slap came hard and violent, cracking across Giulia’s face.

“That idiot brother of mine…” Valentina spat the words. “I warned him he would end up screwed for staying with you. But that fool didn’t listen to me. And now he’s rotting, feeding worms!”

Those words cut deep. The clear contempt for Luca snapped Giulia out of the trance. Her eyes narrowed. Her body stiffened.

Without hesitation, she struck back. Three slaps, one after another, cracked across Valentina’s perfect face.

“This one is for hitting me.

This one is for insulting Luca.

And this one… is simply because I want to.”

Valentina tried to retaliate, but Giulia overpowered her easily. She grabbed her wrists and pushed her firmly against the wall.

“My dear…” Giulia whispered, her face inches from hers, “I am Don Vittorio’s heir. Do you really think you could hit me?”

Valentina struggled, but it was useless. Giulia pushed her hard, making her fall seated on the cold marble floor. The evening dress spread around her like a pool of defeat.

Giulia calmly adjusted her veil, looked down at her, and said without hurry:

“And as for Vicenzo… now he is mine.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left the bathroom. But when she opened the door, she stopped.

Vicenzo was there. Standing still. His eyes fixed on her. The two of them stared at each other. No words.

No movement. Only silence. And tension.

As if the world had held its breath.