He Chose His Ex, I Married His Rival

By the time the doctor put in the last stitch, music was playing in the ballroom again.

Catherine had been taken upstairs to rest. Leon told everyone else to keep celebrating, as though the chaos had been a minor mishap.

My right hand was wrapped in three layers of gauze. I wouldn't be able to use a scalpel for two months.

"When did you change the evacuation order? I thought I was supposed to be the first one out if shots were fired." I asked Leon.

He lit a cigarette. "The day Catherine came back," he mumbled.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

He looked up at me, his tone unchanged. "What difference would it have made? She needs protection. You don't."

"The doctor just said I could have lost the use of my hand if those cuts had gone any deeper."

"Then tell him to give you the best medication, Isabella. Don't make a big deal out of it. You're fine."

I flinched. Fine? I'm an art conservator. My hands are everything to me! How can he brush this off like it's nothing?

Six years earlier, at my first Vistari family dinner with Leon, there had been a real shooting.

At the first shot, he'd pulled me into his arms at once. A bullet grazed his shoulder. He was bleeding badly, but he checked me for injuries first.

After that, he laid down the rule in front of everyone. "Whether I'm there or not, get Isabella out first."

Someone asked what they should do if they could only save one person.

Leon hadn't even looked up from his paperwork. "Do you even have to ask? Isabella comes first!"

I'd held on to those words for six years. They were why I'd turned down the marriage my family had arranged for me. I'd stayed at the Vistari estate in New York for so long that no one could imagine me ever leaving Leon.

But today, the same sharp cracks had rung out. Everyone had followed his order just as strictly as before. The only difference was that this time, they'd taken someone else.

Catherine came in, already looking close to tears. She said she'd been terrified and had specifically told the bodyguards to come back for me. "But they said Leon had changed the order himself. No one dared disobey."

She glanced at me cautiously. "Please don't blame him. He just knows how strong you've always been."

It sounded like an apology, but her words made Leon's choice perfectly clear.

I was strong, so she got rescued first. I was strong, so I was always the one left behind.

I ignored her. Ever since she'd come back, Leon had made every one of those choices himself. He'd chosen her and left me behind.

I'd pushed through everything because I loved him. I hadn't wanted him to worry. Now he thought he could abandon me over and over because I could handle it.

When I still didn't answer, Catherine began to cry. Leon rushed over and turned on me. "She came straight back to apologize. She's been struggling with panic attacks. Can't you be a little more understanding with her for now?"

He acted as though I'd done something terrible to her.

"And next time? If something happens again, will they still save her first?"

Leon frowned, his patience finally gone. "Isabella, do you have to be so childish? You've changed. I'm tired of this. I don't have time to argue with you about it."

I said nothing else.

He didn't seem to need an answer. He ushered Catherine out and slammed the door behind them.

I took my old conservation notebook from the bottom of a drawer. A yellowed slip of paper fell to the floor. A phone number was written on it.

Samuel Aldini had pressed it into my hand six years ago, on the day I'd turned down our arranged marriage to be with Leon.

Samuel was the Aldini family's sole heir. For years, he'd also been the rival Leon was most determined to crush.

He'd pursued me back then, too. The two of them had even clashed over me in front of everyone at a party.

All Samuel had done was help me get out of having another drink. Leon had pulled me back to his side, furious, and kept Samuel away from me for the rest of the night.

I'd mistaken that possessiveness for love. It had only made me more certain I should turn Samuel down.

"Isabella, Leon Vistari isn't as good a man as you think." When Samuel said that, I'd been so angry I'd thrown his number in the trash.

He hadn't tried to persuade me again. Before he left, he'd only said, "If you ever change your mind, call that number."

Somehow, he'd slipped another copy into my notebook. I'd never found it in all those six years. Never called.

I stared at the number for a long time. For the first time, I wondered if Samuel had been telling the truth six years ago, instead of trying to come between us.