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My duty

As the ink dried on the documents, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Mr. Rossi’s gaze never wavered from Maria, his eyes cold and unyielding. He rose from his seat, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the room.

“Now that Kia is legally your husband,” Mr. Rossi began, his voice cutting through the lingering silence with icy precision, “you are responsible for him in every way. His failures are your failures, his disgrace is yours, and his image is now your own.”

Maria’s eyes widened in shock, the weight of Mr. Rossi’s words sinking in. Her face was pale, and her lips trembled as she tried to process the enormity of what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Vittoria, who had been silently weeping, could no longer contain her despair. She cried out, “Father, please, have some mercy! Maria is still young... please have mercy! This is too much for Maria to bear. She’s just a child.”

Mr. Rossi’s face hardened, his eyes narrow
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