1

"What? You want to marry Vincent Rossi, heir to America's biggest mafia family? Absolutely not!" Mother's voice was weak but fierce. "Everyone knows he's been severely injured from years of violent conflicts. The doctors say he has less than six months to live. If you marry him, your life will be ruined!"

"I've raised two husband candidates for you since childhood. Pick either one of them—they're both better than that Rossi scum."

Mother's already pale complexion turned ashen.

I took her frail hand gently.

"Mama, it's precisely because he's dying and doesn't even have the strength to sleep with me that I must marry him."

"The orphans you raised have no family backing. There's no guarantee they won't develop ulterior motives later. But the Rossi family controls all the underground casinos, port trade, and arms dealing in Southern Europe. They won't covet our family wealth. This marriage will quickly consolidate our family's position. And when Vincent dies soon, I'll inherit part of the mafia resources as his widow, without having to fulfill any actual marital duties. There's no better candidate than him."

The ducal title was mother's lifelong pride. But she only had me, one daughter. We had no other living relatives, and our family's influence was gradually declining.

Afraid that I might experience her misfortune again after marriage—with no one to support me—mother adopted two war orphans to raise as potential husbands for me.

But mother never knew the truth.

These two men appeared respectful and obedient to her arrangements on the surface. But privately, they were both infatuated with my maid Josie. They constantly neglected me and made my life difficult, all to win her favor.

My favorite, Marcus Reed, had even given up his own last name. He changed it to Josie's—Marcus Thompson.

As a candidate for my future husband, changing his surname to match the stable master's daughter was nothing short of betrayal.

When I discovered this secret, I confronted him.

But Marcus showed no guilt whatsoever. His face was cold as ice.

"Good that you know. Even if I'm forced to marry you in the future, I'll never touch you. My heart and my body will forever belong only to Josie."

Those words pierced my heart like knives.

If that's how it was, why should I force the issue?

My mother had been bedridden with severe illness for nearly a month. I stayed by her side day and night, caring for her. But her two adopted sons, Marcus and Ryan Hayes, never showed up, using the excuse of handling family business.

Yet someone had seen them vacationing in the Maldives with Josie.

It was because of this incident that I finally saw their true nature.

I didn't want mother to be heartbroken about such things on her deathbed, so I never told her.

On her deathbed, mother looked at me with reluctant eyes, her voice weak:

"Since you've already made your decision, mama will respect your choice. But Catherine, mama has to leave now. I can't protect you anymore. From now on, you must take good care of yourself, understand?"

When mother was dying, Marcus and Ryan, as her adopted sons, should have rushed back immediately—both emotionally and logically.

But I called them over a dozen times, and every call was hung up. When I finally got through to Ryan, he didn't believe me: "You must be lying to trick us into coming back. Josie is an orphan who's never traveled abroad. Marcus and I want to give her a proper vacation. Stop bothering us."

In the end, I was the only one who accompanied mother through her final moments.

When I was struggling to suppress my grief while handling mother's funeral arrangements, they finally returned. But Marcus immediately accused me because mother's funeral date coincided with Josie's graduation ceremony.

"What's the meaning of scheduling the funeral on Wednesday?" Marcus pushed open the study door, his suit still carrying the sunny scent of the Maldives. "Josie's graduation ceremony is the same day."

Ryan continued, "Change the date. Your mother is already gone anyway. We have to take care of the living. Graduation only happens once. We must attend, or Josie will be mocked. Why didn't you consult with us when setting the date?"

"This follows family tradition. Besides, the obituary has already been sent to other noble families. The date cannot be easily changed," I replied.

It was always like this—they blamed me, expecting me to yield to Josie in everything. But this time, concerning mother's funeral, I wouldn't back down an inch.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus and Ryan still attended Josie's graduation ceremony first, arriving only when the funeral was nearly over. The three of them walked in wearing bright colors, laughing and chatting.

Especially Josie, in a low-cut red dress, causing the other funeral guests to frown in disapproval.

Feeling the strange looks from around the room, Josie cowered weakly behind Marcus.

Marcus coldly swept his gaze over those people, then looked at the urn I held in my arms, frowning:

"This is all because of you. The funeral timing is so inappropriate that Josie didn't even have time to change clothes. I think you deliberately wanted to humiliate her."

No time?

But Josie's graduation ceremony ended in the morning, and it was already dark. How could they not have had time to change clothes?

Ryan sneered:

"That's all the scheming she knows how to do. Just because she's the young lady, she's always selfishly inconsiderate of others' feelings. She just wanted to ruin Josie's graduation ceremony."

"Hey, Catherine, I heard your mother asked you to choose which one of us to marry before she died. Who did you pick in the end?"

His eyes were full of disgust, as if he was terrified I might have chosen him. Marcus's eyes also showed complete rejection.

We had grown up together, and it was my mother who provided them with a wealthy life and superior education. Yet he showed no respect for my mother and was extremely disgusted with me. How ironic.

I spoke calmly:

"You're overthinking it. I chose neither of you."

Both men froze, about to speak, when my phone suddenly chimed with a text message. They instinctively looked at the screen.

"Miss Blackwood, the wedding will be held in three days. Please prepare accordingly."