Chapter 2

Alone, I left the estate where the wedding was being held. The moment I passed through the gate, I called my father.

"About taking over the family business—I'll do it."

My father couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. "Nadia, you've finally come to your senses. I told you a long time ago that Orlando was never the right man for you."

I was the only child of a mafia Don, and he'd always wanted me to take over the Marchetti business. But my mother had died young, and he'd spoiled me all my life, so he couldn't bring himself to force me to take over.

Back then, I was blinded by love. All I wanted was to be with Orlando, and I even gave up my right to inherit the family business for him.

My father was furious, but he let me leave. He told me that if I ever got hurt, I should come home.

I was sure that day would never come. Orlando proved me wrong.

I hung up and stood there in a daze.

He had warned me more than once.

But back then Orlando was good to me. He really was.

He once spent a fortune to reserve an entire harbor and put on an all-night fireworks show just for me.

Because I'd once said I liked roses, he tore out the orange trees that the heads of his family had traditionally planted with their own hands on the day they took over, then filled the beds with my favorite roses.

When I lost too much blood protecting him, he ignored the doctors' objections and donated his own blood until he passed out...

His love had once burned that fiercely, honest and whole. Now I had to share it with someone else.

Everything started changing the day Cecilia arrived.

Orlando said Cecilia was the orphaned daughter of one of his longtime men and that he owed it to her father to look after her.

On the surface, Cecilia was my decoy. In reality, Orlando used the stand-in story to keep me quiet while he held her a little too close, basked in the crowd's attention, and enjoyed having a pretty girl on his arm.

Cecilia said she didn't like the smell of roses, so Orlando pulled out the roses he'd planted for me, one bed at a time. Cecilia helped herself to my designer shoes, and he told me to be generous. He took Cecilia on the Iceland trip I'd been dreaming of and left me to wander around the estate.

Every time, the excuse was the same. It might be dangerous, so Cecilia was testing it first to keep me safe.

When his enemies cornered us, the first thing he did was pull Cecilia into his arms. He knocked me down in the process, then told me he'd done it deliberately—to confuse them and let Cecilia draw their fire away from me.

I was the woman he was going to marry, yet every memory we shared now had a third person in it.

Today, even the wedding that meant more to me than anything had been Cecilia's before it was mine, just like everything else. A wedding for three. I didn't want it.

So I went home and packed. There wasn't much to pack, but a lot of it held memories of Orlando and me. I looked at the things as I threw them away, telling myself I was seeing them for the last time—a small farewell to our six years together.

Before I knew it, it was late.

I heard a noise outside the door. Was Orlando back?

I opened the door and found them wrapped around each other. Orlando was leaning his full weight on Cecilia, too drunk to know what was going on.

Cecilia looked straight at me, a challenge in her eyes. She was trying to turn my stomach. "Ms. Marchetti, Mr. Riccardi won't let go of me. I've tried to push him away."

She made sure I saw the marks on her neck, then asked shamelessly, "This is our wedding night, after all. Maybe you should leave the house to us so we can see the whole thing through properly."

Then she leaned down and kissed Orlando's forehead.

I'd loved him for years. Saying it didn't hurt would be a lie.

And right then Orlando started mumbling my name. "Nadia... Nadia, I love you..."

Cecilia's expression twisted instantly. I gave her a cold smile and stepped away from the doorway. "If you're willing to be my stand-in in bed too, be my guest."

Cecilia glared at me, then shoved Orlando into my arms anyway. "Just wait. One of these days I'm going to take your place."

Her threat didn't faze me. She didn't need to take anything. I didn't want anything—or anyone—someone else had already used.

I got Orlando onto the bed and he rolled on top of me. He still smelled like Cecilia. It made me sick.

I shoved him off with all my strength, grabbed my bag, and left. My flight was still two days away, so I checked into a nearby hotel.

First thing the next morning, Orlando called.

He came out swinging. "Nadia, when did you turn this vicious?"

I could hear Cecilia crying somewhere behind him. "Mr. Riccardi, please don't blame Ms. Marchetti. It was my fault. I shouldn't have brought you home."