Chapter 2

I sat in a pool of my own blood and watched Alessio carry Aurelia out of the room.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't even look back.

I started to laugh, but tears streamed down my face.

The memories crashed over me.

Three years ago, back in the spring, I was just a girl working in a small flower shop in Brooklyn.

Every morning at nine, a man in an expensive suit would walk in.

He always bought a bouquet of white roses. Twelve, never more, never less.

"Why always white roses?" I'd asked him once.

"Because the girl who wraps them loves white." His eyes were so gentle, you felt like you could drown in them.

For three months straight, rain or shine.

The other girls whispered about the handsome, rich mystery man in the black Maserati.

But I knew he wasn't just some rich guy. I saw the bodyguards who followed him, the faint outline of holsters under their jackets. I saw the danger that flashed in his eyes sometimes.

Then came the rainy night that changed everything.

A rival family ambushed him in my shop.

They were there to kill Alessio. They took me hostage instead.

A bullet flew towards me. Alessio threw himself in front of me.

Blood soaked his white shirt, staining the bouquet of roses he hadn't had the chance to give me.

"Why?" I cried, sitting by his hospital bed.

He lay there, his right arm wrapped in thick bandages. The bullet had shattered the bone. The doctors said he might never use it the same way again.

"Because you owe me a life," he said, smiling weakly. "And you can pay me back with yours."

That was the first time he told me how he felt.

Later, in that sterile hospital hallway, he got down on one knee, holding a bouquet of blood-stained white roses.

"Thea Monroe, be mine."

I nodded, sobbing.

After that, he treated me like a queen.

If I nicked my finger trimming flowers, he'd call his private doctor.

If I mentioned I liked the cheesecake from a certain restaurant, he'd buy the whole place the next day.

I complained about the cold one winter, and he had heated floors installed in our bedroom, always kept at a perfect seventy-two degrees.

"Thea, you're my whole world," he told me, over and over.

Back then, he only had eyes for me.

And now...

I wiped the blood from my face with my sleeve and shakily got to my feet.

No one cared if I lived or died. The guards had gone with Alessio to the hospital. The maids hid in the corners, too scared to make a sound.

I walked out of the Santoro estate alone.

The night was cold. My head was still bleeding.

At a private clinic, the doctor was cleaning the gash.

"This is deep. It needs stitches," he said with a frown. "How did this happen?"

"I fell."

"Miss, this was clearly caused by blunt for—"

"I said I fell."

He didn't ask again and started stitching. The sharp sting of the needle pulled me back to reality.

Suddenly, the clinic door flew open.

Alessio stormed in, his eyes blazing.

"Thea! You just don't give up, do you?" he snarled, striding toward me. "Aurelia is in emergency surgery, and you follow me here? What, you want to finish the job?"

Whatever was left of my heart turned to ice.

"This wound on my head," I said, pointing to the stitches. "You did this."

Alessio froze.

The rage vanished from his face, replaced by shock and guilt.

"Thea, I—" He reached for me. I flinched away.

"Don't touch me."

"Thea, I'm sorry," his voice softened. "I was so worried about Aurelia. You know what happens if she's hurt. The alliance with her family is destroyed. It means we wait even longer to leave—"

"Enough," I said, pushing him away. "Go take care of your Aurelia."

"Thea, listen to me—" He grabbed my arm, his eyes desperate. "You're the only one I love. It's always been you. Just wait for me. Wait for me to handle all this, and we'll leave this place for good."

I'd heard it all before.

He said it every time he came back to our bed after sleeping with her.

He said it every time Aurelia cried and he had to comfort her.

"I'm waiting," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I've always been waiting."

"Thea—"

"Go," I said, pulling my arm free. "Your woman is waiting for you."

Alessio hesitated for a second, then turned and left.

As the door swung open, I heard Aurelia's weak voice from down the hall.

"Alessio, I'm so scared... our baby..."

His footsteps faded away.

I sat on the cold examination chair, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

A white bandage wrapped around my head. A face as pale as a ghost.

The doctor was cleaning his tools. "Miss," he asked gently, "are you alright?"

I smiled, but fresh tears welled in my eyes.

"Doctor, how long can someone love another person?"

"I... I wouldn't know, miss."

"Me neither," I said, wiping my tears. "But I do know this. The moment you stop believing the promises, the love is already dead."

I stood up, paid the bill, and walked out of the clinic.

Fourteen days left.

The night wind was cold. It dried the tears on my face.

I glanced back at the clinic's warm light and whispered the truth to the empty street.

"Alessio, I don't believe you anymore."