The True Mafia Principessa Chapter 03

The True Mafia Principessa Chapter 03

The entire room erupted.

Gasps, whispers, stunned silence breaking into chaos as fingers pointed straight at me.

“Who the hell is she? Is she insane? She actually hit the Vayne family’s Principessa?!”

Clara collapsed weakly into Quentin’s arms, clutching her cheek as tears streamed down her face. “Quentin…,” she sobbed.

I dragged in a rough breath, biting down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood. The sharp pain kept me conscious.

“The Vayne family’s Principessa?” I let out a cold laugh, looking at her like she was nothing more than trash. “Since when did I suddenly get an older sister? She’s nothing but a fake.”

The room fell into a tense hush, curiosity flickering in every gaze.

Clara’s best friend was the first to push back. “Clara isn’t fake! If she were, why would Quentin kiss her? Everyone in our circle knows Quentin only treats the Vayne Principessa well. If you don’t believe it, ask him.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“That’s right… Quentin’s feelings for the Vayne Principessa are basically public knowledge.”

All eyes turned to him.

Quentin glanced at me, then gave a small nod. “The only person I love is Clara.”

For a split second, the world went silent.

Then the noise crashed back in, louder than before.

A cold smile tugged at my lips as voices rose around me.

“Then who is she?”

“How did she even get in here? And she dared to hit the Vayne Principessa?”

Quentin sighed, looking almost helpless. “She’s a poor student I’ve been sponsoring. She’s been trying to get into my bed for a long time, but I turned her down every time. I never expected her to go this far just to be with me… even pretending to be Clara.”

Relief flashed across Clara’s face, and her expression turned even more pitiful. “Quentin only let you stay because he felt sorry for you. But how could you try to steal my identity in front of everyone like this? You’ve humiliated me…”

The moment she cried, the room chose her side.

She turned toward Nico and Lucian. “Nico, Lucian… you’ll speak for me, won’t you?”

Nico stiffened, then forced himself to say, “She’s telling the truth. Clara is the Vayne family’s Principessa.”

He wouldn’t even look at me.

Once, his family had been on the verge of bankruptcy. His parents had fallen into such deep despair they almost took him with them.

I had sold my favorite jewelry to pull them back from the edge.

He told me he was my knight. That he would die for me.

And for years, he had lived up to it, following me, protecting me like a shadow.

But now, in front of everyone, he erased me like I had never existed.

The heat that had faded surged back, eating away at my sanity. I bit down harder, blood and pain grounding me.

Without thinking, I grabbed a plain vase from the side table and swung it straight at Nico.

But someone moved faster.

Quentin’s foot slammed into my chest, knocking the air out of me, before he pulled Clara back just in time.

The vase shattered against the floor.

Whatever composure Quentin used to have was gone. His voice turned cold as ice. “Throw her back into the storage room. No food. No water. She stays there until she admits she was wrong. Then maybe we’ll get someone to treat her.”

I spat blood onto the ground, my voice steady and unyielding. “I did nothing wrong.”

They dragged me back to the storage room and tossed me onto the floor like garbage.

I was barely conscious when Nico came to see me.

Pain flickered in his eyes. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

I spat blood at him. “Yeah. Helping you back then was the same kind of mistake.”

His gaze darkened. He reached out, gently wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth.

I seized the moment and bit down hard.

All the hatred I had been holding in poured into that one act. I didn’t let go until I had no strength left.

When I finally released him, I said hoarsely, “Next time we meet, we’re enemies.”

It was like something inside him shattered. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

In the end, he silently placed his phone beside me and walked away like a man who had lost his soul.

I clenched it tightly, the hatred in my chest burning even brighter.

I still remembered my uncle’s number.

As long as I could contact him, I could get out of here.

I just needed the right moment.