INSATIABLE VOWS

Episode One

CHIARA

The air inside the bridal suite was thick with the scent of crushed white roses and expensive champagne.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing the silk skirt of my ivory gown. The trial lawyer in me was used to high-pressure courtrooms and hostile cross-examinations, but my hands were unusually cold. In less than an hour, I was getting married to the love of my life, Levi Moretti. Levi and I had been together for seven good years, and today I was finally going to be his wife.

"You look extremely breathtaking, Chi." My best friend Sofia hugged me from behind. I smiled, turning around to face her. Sofia's honey-brown eyes were filled with a certain emotion I couldn't quite understand. We had been best friends practically all our lives. After my family and Levi, Sofia is the one person I trusted with my life, and I would do anything for her.

"What's wrong, Sof, is it the green?" I teased. Sofia hated green, and it didn't help that it was my favorite color — hence, as my maid of honor, she had to wear it.

"Nothing. I just hope you're happy, Chiara, because I know for a fact that Levi doesn't deserve you."

"Sof, Levi and I love each other, and we want to build a life together. Of course I'm happy. There's nothing for you to worry about," I assured her softly. Sofia had never been a fan of Levi, though she never showed it to him because she knew how much I loved him.

"Okay, I trust you, you know what you're doing. But if he ever slips up, I know a million and one ways to end him — legally and illegally," she stated seriously.

"Oh, I bet you do, Attorney Bianco," I saluted, and we both laughed.

I looked around, searching for my sister. "Have you seen Lilly?" I asked Sofia, who rolled her eyes.

"Nope, but she must be somewhere around the bridal suite, taking pictures or modeling."

"She has my veil and I need it back."

"Oh, lemme try to call her." Sofia picked up her phone, calling her. A moment later, we heard Lillian's phone ringing from the vanity.

"She must have left her phone here. I'll go to her room, she must be in there."

"Chiara, I'll go, it's your wedding."

"That's precisely why I'm going — you two can't stand each other."

"You can't blame me, she's unbearable, always acting like a white lotus flower."

"I'll be right back."

"Take your time. I'll guard the champagne."

I knew Lillian's room was in Suite 402, further down the hall. I picked up my train, slipped out of the suite, and walked down the quiet, carpeted corridor of the St. Regis. The hotel was silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant rumble of thunder outside.

As I approached Suite 402, I noticed the heavy mahogany door was unlatched, resting open by a fraction of an inch. A sliver of warm light spilled onto the patterned carpet.

I reached out to push the door open, my lips parting to call out for Lillian.

Then I heard it.

A low, breathless gasp from inside the room. A sound so soft, so intimately familiar, that my breath hitched in my throat before my brain could even register why.

I froze, my hand hovering an inch from the brass handle.

"Quiet," a man's voice murmured. The deep, velvety tone sent a violent wave of ice straight down my spine.

Levi.

"Someone is going to hear us," a woman replied, her voice thick, heavy with satisfaction.

My heart didn't race. It completely stopped. The air in the hallway vanished, leaving me suffocating in the silence.

I didn't push the door wide open. I didn't burst into the room. I stood in the shadow of the doorframe, my eyes tracking through the narrow crack in the wood.

In the center of the dimly lit suite, framed by the pale silk curtains, Levi was leaning against the vanity. His collar was undone, his silk tie hanging loose around his neck. Standing between his knees, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, was my sister, Lillian.

Her soft pink bridesmaid dress was unzipped down the back. Levi's hand was tangled in her dark blonde hair, pulling her face to his as he kissed her with an urgent, possessive hunger he had never once shown me.

The sight didn't just hurt; it tore the oxygen straight out of my lungs.

"Levi..." Lillian breathed, pulling back an inch, her cheeks flushed as her fingers trailed down his chest. "What if she starts looking for me?"

"She won't," Levi said, his voice laced with a cold, smooth confidence that sent a shockwave through my chest. He brushed a thumb across her lower lip. "Chiara sees what she wants to see. She's so focused on being the perfect wife, daughter, and sister — while still trying to save her father's company — that she doesn't notice what's happening right in front of her."

Lillian let out a low, breathless laugh, resting her forehead against his. "She actually thinks this wedding is about love."

"Let her think that," Levi murmured, his hands sliding down her back, drawing her close again. "It makes things much easier for us."

I stood frozen on the plush carpet, the sting of their words burning deep into my chest.

There was no grand villainous explanation. No detailed breakdown of contract terms. Just two people I had trusted with my life, effortlessly destroying it in a quiet hotel room.

My legal mind, trained to remain composed under extreme stress, shattered into a million sharp pieces.

My fingers tightened around the silk fabric of my dress. A single, hot tear escaped my right eye, tracking a slow path down my cheek before dripping onto the lace of my bodice. My breath came in shallow, ragged hitches, my hand trembling so violently against the doorframe that I had to force myself to step backward into the dark hallway.

Step.

I backed away from the door, my heels sinking silently into the carpet until the room was out of sight.

I didn't scream. I didn't throw open the door and demand an explanation. The betrayal was too deep, too systemic, to be met with tears or shouting.

I turned and walked back down the long, empty corridor toward the service exit.

When I pushed through the heavy metal doors of the hotel's rear entrance, the storm hit me instantly.

The rain came down in relentless, icy sheets, soaking through the thin silk of my wedding dress within seconds. The cold wind whipped my dark hair across my face, stinging my skin, but I barely felt it.

I took one step onto the slick pavement of the alleyway, then another, the heavy ivory train dragging through the puddles behind me.

Chiara sees what she wants to see.

Levi's voice repeated in my head, rhythmically matching the strike of my heels against the wet asphalt. I pulled the gold engagement ring off my finger, the cold metal biting into my skin, and let it slip from my hand. It disappeared into a storm drain without a sound.

My chest burned. My lungs fought for air as the rain poured over my face, washing away the carefully applied makeup, blending with the tears I refused to let fall. I had spent years protecting Levi from his own corporate missteps, standing by him through all his bad days, believing in all his ideas. And Lillian — I had spent almost my entire life putting her first, caring for her, encouraging her, fighting for her, thinking she was my sister. I had built my entire life on structure, logic, and loyalty, but my family always came first, even if that meant putting them before myself — never believing they would ever betray me.

And every bit of it was a lie.

Every single part of the seven years was a lie — the nights spent staying up late building concrete plans for his company, all lies. The kisses and promises—

I reached the mouth of the alley, stepping out onto the flooded street. The Manhattan traffic hummed past in a blur of yellow cabs and neon lights, no one paying attention to a bride drenched in rain, standing alone in the storm.

I stopped at the edge of the curb, my body shivering violently, my hands wrapped around my arms as I looked up into the dark sky. The floor beneath me was gone. My foundation was shattered.

Then, a pair of bright, piercing headlights cut through the torrential rain, illuminating the water pooling around my feet.

A sleek, midnight-black Maybach pulled smoothly to the curb, coming to a stop directly in front of me.

The rear door glided open.

Standing inside the ambient warmth of the vehicle, completely untouched by the storm, was a man. He wore a dark charcoal suit, his gray eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that held me frozen in place.

"You look wet, Miss Vance," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. "Get in."