Chapter 3

After returning home, I grabbed my packed suitcase and headed straight for the airport. My phone vibrated.

【Elena, let's push back the wedding dress fitting by a few days. Ricky and the guys put together a gathering, and they want me over there.】

【Be a good girl and stop throwing tantrums. Once things quiet down, we'll go to Amalfi for our wedding photos.】

I switched off the screen and leaned my head against the car window, watching the city lights blur past.

Amalfi... That trip was supposed to happen two months ago. I had spent two whole weeks meticulously planning the itinerary. Checking the weather, the destinations, the lighting, matching different photography styles to specific photographers...

But Sophie's arrival had shattered all of it. Everywhere Marco went, he dragged her along. He claimed it was to give her professional experience. Yet, the frequency of his replies to my texts dropped drastically. During the blocks of time he claimed to be swamped with work, Sophie's social media revealed a completely different story. He was accompanying her to check out the new dessert shops near the office, introducing her to the thrill of playing hooky, and taking her to see newly released movies.

Whenever I confronted him afterward, he always had an excuse ready.

"I was just testing out the quality. If it's good, it gives the company another option for afternoon catering, doesn't it?"

"We wrapped up with the client early and caught a movie on the way back. The girl rarely gets excited about anything, I didn't have the heart to ruin her mood."

He even failed to show up for my birthday banquet and our anniversary. Disappointment piled up, piece by piece, until it became a mountain.

When I first mentioned calling off the engagement to my parents back in Italy, they vehemently opposed it. But last week, when Marco chose to sever a multi-year collaborative project between our families just for Sophie's sake, they finally realized the severity of the situation and consented.

Salvatore had always cherished me like his own daughter. Seeing my absolute resolve, he had no choice but to yield. "Ultimately, that boy failed you. Don't be afraid, sweetheart. Even if you can't be my daughter-in-law, I will always love you just the same."

Another text from Marco popped up.

【You forgot to take the gift I brought you. I'll bring it over tomorrow.】

【Still mad? If you don't reply, I'll assume you don't want it and give it to someone else.】

【Your temper is getting out of hand. Who else but me would tolerate you like this!】

While waiting in the airport lounge, Marco’s name flashed across my screen. A call. I figured it was best to tell him clearly myself, saving Salvatore the trouble of explaining.

The moment I pressed answer, heavy background noise spilled through the speaker.

"Marco, if you bring your little assistant along like this, isn't Elena going to claw your face off?"

Marco let out a dismissive scoff. "She wouldn't dare. I'm the Don of the Moretti family now. I'm not going to let her boss me around like she used to; it ruins my reputation."

Another male voice sighed. "Honestly, Elena is great for flirting and romance, but actually marrying her and bringing her home sounds exhausting."

A third voice chimed in: "She’s a high-born princess. When has she ever had to suffer a day in her life? You’ve basically spent the last month torturing her, though I'm genuinely shocked she's put up with it for this long."

Marco sounded heavily intoxicated, his words laced with a drunken slur. "What's there not to put up with? Can she stay on her high horse forever? If she wants to be my Donna, she has to play by my rules. She needs to learn to keep her nose out of my business."

Then came Sophie's sweet, delicate voice. "Don, please stop drinking. If you have any more, you'll be completely wasted."

Ricky teased, "Sophie, sweetheart, why are you still calling him 'Don' so formally? Shouldn't it be 'Brother Marco' by now?"

"Ricky, stop talking nonsense, I wouldn't dare overstep my boundaries," Sophie replied quickly.

"Oh, you wouldn't dare? Then why don't you come call me brother? I don't have a fiercely jealous fiancée breathing down my neck."

There was a muffled thud, as if Marco had kicked Ricky. "You playboy. Your list of bed partners could wrap around Manhattan twice, and you still dare to hit on my person."

The room erupted into roaring laughter. "Right, right, your person. You certainly guard her fiercely."

"But seriously, when you guys went to Monte Carlo last time, did you two actually..."

Marco’s cold voice cut him off sharply. "Nothing happened. We’re entirely clean. Stop making mindless speculations."

Ricky's sly laugh echoed. "Is that so? Because I distinctly heard Sophie say that you only booked one suite~"

The call was abruptly disconnected. I could easily guess who had hung up the phone. But her little act of defiance was entirely redundant.

After blocking his number completely, I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the boarding gate.