"I'm sorry, Mom." My voice was thick. "I'm sorry you married a man who treats his family like assets. I'm sorry you couldn't protect me from him. I'm sorry I can't come home and make this better for you. But I can't sacrifice myself to make your life easier. Not anymore."
"Stefan, please—"
"I love you." The words hurt to say. "I do love you. But I can't be part of that family anymore. I can't live in that house. Can't follow Giuseppe's orders. Can't be the pretty son who smiles at functions and pretends everything's fine." I took a breath. "I found something better. Someone who actually values me. A place where I matter for my mind instead of my appearance. And I'm not giving that up. Not for you. Not for anyone."
"You're choosing them over your family?"
"I'm choosing myself over the people who never chose me." The distinction felt important. "This isn't about the Vitales versus the Romanos. This is about me finally putting myself first after twenty-three years of being last."
She was crying harder now. "I don't want to lose you."
"Then you should have fought for me when I was home. Should have stood up to Giuseppe. Should have treated me like I mattered instead of just another thing he controlled." My chest felt tight. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really am. But I can't come back. Not for you. Not for him. Not for anyone."
"Stefan—"
"I have to go. I'm sorry."
I hung up before she could say anything else.
Sat there staring at my phone while guilt and grief warred in my chest.
That was my mother. The woman who'd given birth to me. Raised me. Been there for scraped knees and bad dreams and all the small moments that made up childhood.
And I'd just cut her out of my life.
The door opened. Matteo stood there, concern clear on his face.
"I heard raised voices. Are you okay?"
"My mother called." My voice sounded distant. Hollow. "She wanted me to come home. I said no. She cried. I hung up." I looked at him. "I just cut off my mother, Matteo. What kind of person does that?"
He crossed to me immediately. Pulled me into his arms. "The kind of person who's choosing survival over guilt. Who's protecting himself even when it hurts."
"She was crying. She said she couldn't lose me. And I just—" My voice cracked. "I just told her no and hung up."
"Did she stand up for you? When Giuseppe was treating you like property?"
"No. She said she couldn't. That I don't know what he's like."
"Then she made her choice. She chose Giuseppe over you. Chose her own safety over protecting her son." Matteo held me tighter. "You're not the villain here, Stefan. You're just refusing to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm."
"It doesn't feel like that. It feels like I'm abandoning her."
"She abandoned you first. Every time she stood by while Giuseppe diminished you. Every time she watched him sell you at auctions and said nothing. Every time she chose compliance over protecting you." His voice was gentle but firm. "You don't owe her your misery. You don't owe her your safety. You don't owe her anything except the truth—which you gave her."
I pressed my face against his chest. "Why does doing the right thing hurt so much?"
"Because it's your mother. Because some part of you will always be that kid who wanted her love and protection. Because even when people fail us, we still grieve the relationship we wished we'd had." He pulled back to look at me. "But Stefan—are you regretting this? Do you want to go back?"
"No." The answer was immediate. Certain. "I don't want to go back. I don't want to be part of that family. I just—I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish my mother was the kind of person who'd fight for me instead of asking me to sacrifice myself for her peace of mind."
"I know. And I'm sorry she isn't. You deserved better than the family you got."
"I found better." I looked at him. "I found you. And Sandro and Luca and Emilio. And even Elio's grudging respect. I found a place where I matter. Where my skills are valued. Where I'm more than just decorative."
"You are. You're essential. To the Vitales. To me." He cupped my face. "But Stefan—I'm worried about you."
"Why?"
