Chapter 3

The allergic reaction was worse than I’d imagined.

That night my fever wouldn’t break, and an angry rash spread across my skin.

The doctor said I needed rest, that I couldn’t be exposed to any triggers for at least a week. But the wedding was only three days away.

Once the news made it back to the estate, the Vale family’s people came to the hospital fast.

They stood outside my room, voices low behind a half-closed door.

“Everyone coming to the wedding is the cream of the city. Looking like she does now, how is Miss Sutton supposed to show her face?”

“The Don’s wedding can’t become a joke. Better to postpone it, wait until she’s recovered.”

“It’s already been postponed once. She really is nothing but trouble.”

I lay in bed listening, and couldn’t even be bothered to open my eyes.

Not long after, Adrian came.

When he pushed the door open, the room went silent at once.

A few of the family elders started to speak, but Adrian swept them with one cold look.

“She is my bride.”

“Anyone who says she can’t show her face can get the hell out of this family.”

The whole group shut their mouths at once.

Once, those words would’ve meant everything to me.

Now, I only looked at him, calm.

Adrian came to my bedside and looked down at the rash on my face, his brow knit tight.

“Still hurting?”

I shook my head. He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Do you want to postpone?”

I looked at him, my tone firm. “No.”

He was startled, and then he smiled.

“I know. You’ve waited a long time for this day.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”

I lowered my eyes and gave a soft sound of agreement.

That night, Adrian brought in the best doctors, along with several professional makeup artists.

They gathered around me, working out how to cover the rash.

Adrian stood off to the side, watching me in the mirror.

“On the wedding day, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

Yes.

I would be the most beautiful bride.

And this would be the last Adrian ever saw of Claire Sutton.

In the final three days before the wedding, Nina’s social feed never went quiet.

There was the lavish villa, the limited-edition sports car, the jewelry she’d just won at auction for a sky-high price.

Everyone thought she was blissfully happy.

But the day before the wedding, she came to my hospital room with a face like a storm.

“Claire Sutton. Call off the wedding tomorrow.”

I looked up at her.

Nina finally stopped pretending. She sneered.

“You really think he can’t live without you? Don’t forget, the day we were taken, he chose me.”

“Last month, the shootout at the docks. He said he was going to deal with a traitor, and you waited all night for him at the estate.”

“But the moment his wound was patched up, the first room he walked into was mine.”

She stepped closer, one pace at a time, undisguised contempt in her eyes.

“And that family dinner.”

“You thought he sent you home early because he was worried you’d feel out of place.”

“The truth is, what they discussed in the second half was beyond you, and you had no right to hear it.”

She stared at me, spelling it out word by word.

“Do you even know how this family works? Do you know which glass to raise, which words to swallow, which table you can’t sit at?”

“You’re a waitress who flinches at the sound of a gun. What makes you fit to be the Don’s wife?”

I listened quietly until she finished. Then I smiled.

“You’ve said a lot. But the one standing beside him tomorrow is still going to be me.”