He Kept Me Waiting for Seven Years. I Married His Brother Instead

The metallic magnet felt icy against my palm as I backed out of the hall, slipping into the cold night air without making a sound.

Seven years of longing, of feeling like a tragic heroine waiting for a promised paradise, vanished in an instant, replaced by a clarity so sharp it burned.

I didn't head back to Lorenzo’s penthouse. Instead, I drove straight to the outskirts of the city, pulling up to the quiet medical center where my grandmother lived.

"Lucy," Dr. Vance said, meeting me in the dim hallway outside her room, his face etched with exhaustion. "I’m glad you came. We’re running out of time."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "How long?"

"A year. At most," he sighed, gesturing to the untouched tray of pills on the desk. "Her heart is failing, but she’s refusing her medication. She says there’s no point in prolonging her life if she’s just waiting around in a hospital bed."

I pushed open the door to her room. Grandma looked tiny sitting by the window, but her eyes snapped to mine with their usual stubborn brightness.

"Stop looking at me like I’m made of glass, child," she grumbled, though her expression softened as I knelt beside her chair and laid my head on her lap.

"Grandma, please take the medicine," I whispered, gripping her frail hand. "For me."

"I’ve lived my life, Lucy," she said softly, stroking my hair. "My only regret is leaving you alone in this world. My only wish is to see you married to a man who truly cherishes you—to hold your child in my arms before I close my eyes for good. But year after year, you wait for a wedding that never comes."

Last year, when I returned home without landing my spin on a name, she had rushed to the Moretti House demanding answers. She couldn't believe her granddaughter’s luck was that bad to be failing for seven years.

Lorenzo’s mother, Miss Emily, couldn't tolerate the accusations and had a servant kick her out, causing her heart severe damage.

That night, Lorenzo came to me and said his judgment would never be clouded by the blood ties and that he would seek justice for my grandma, and the other day words spread about how much Lorenzo lloved his fiancée. He didn't even spare his mother and punished her for causing a small injury to his fiancée’s grandmother.

The punishment— cutting half of her monthly allowance for a month.

And when I argued, he simply replied, “Your grandma was at fault, Lucy. She put allegations on me for messing up with the spinning wheel. How do you expect me to react?”

I became silent.

It was only tonight that I saw the cold, freaking truth. My grandma was never wrong.

He played me for seven whole years.

A tear slipped down my cheek, but I wiped it away, looking directly into her eyes with a resolve I hadn't felt in seven years.

"You will hold your grandchild, Grandma," I promised, my voice steady. "I’m spinning the wheel tomorrow. And I will land on a name, get married, and give you a family. I promise you."

She searched my face, seeing the shift in me, and finally nodded, reaching for the small paper cup of pills on her bedside table.

The next evening, the grand hall of the Moretti Empire was bathed in gold and crystal. Whispers erupted the moment I walked through the heavy double doors.

"Look, it's Lucy."

"Seven years and she’s still coming to spin?"

"The island is named after her, yet she's the only one who's never been allowed to go. It's almost embarrassing."

I held my head high, ignoring the cruel snickers. I was no longer wearing the timid, expectant smile of a girl waiting to be chosen.

A sudden hush fell over the room as the heavy oak doors swung open once more. Lorenzo stepped inside, dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, carrying himself with the effortless authority of a king. But his hands weren't at his sides.

His arm was wrapped securely around the waist of a woman in a delicate silk dress—Rosaline.

She leaned into his chest, looking frail, elegant, and entirely triumphant, while Lorenzo guided her into the room as if she were the true queen of the evening.

The moment her gaze landed on me, she squeezed Lorenzo’s hands and gasped in hesitation. She hid herself behind his torso as if afraid I would eat her the next second.

Watching this, Lorenzo's face twisted. He shielded her against me before whispering in a cold voice, “Stay away! Your bad luck has nothing to do with Rosaline, Lucy. Don't take it out on her.”