Chapter 4

On the night before the wedding, the old Don called me into his study one last time.

“Nerina, Sicily is not New York. I won’t be there.”

“Marcus won’t be there either. I’m afraid no one will be able to protect you.”

“Have you truly made up your mind?”

I rose from my chair and bent to kiss the back of the old man’s hand.

“It’s precisely because Marcus won’t be there that I have to go.”

“Thank you and, goodbye.”

The reception in the main hall was still going on.

Vivian was immersed in happiness, her skirt swaying as she moved.

Marcus stood not far away, silently watching her.

I crossed through the corner of the hall, ready to head back to my room.

But he suddenly stepped in front of me and blocked my path.

“Why do I keep hearing the same thing?”

“That the one going to Sicily tomorrow… is you.”

Since everything was already set in stone, I lifted my eyes to his and answered calmly.

“Yes.”

His gaze fell to my right hand, still wrapped in splints.

“Does it still hurt?”

Instinctively, I pulled my hand behind my back.

“It doesn’t.”

As if he knew perfectly well I was lying, he let out a soft laugh.

“You’re best at making the truth sound like a lie.”

“It obviously hurts, yet you say it doesn’t.”

“It’s obviously you marrying me, yet you insist it’s Vivian.”

I no longer had the strength to argue with him.

I simply turned toward the staircase.

Even then, he still reminded me,

“Go back to your room and try on the wedding dress.”

I stopped and turned back. “The dress is already with Vivian.”

Just then, Vivian walked over.

Marcus looked at her, his tone turning colder. “Return it.”

Vivian’s expression tightened.

I spoke before she could.

“Let her try it on for me. We’re about the same size.”

Only then did she quietly relax.

But Marcus suddenly took my hand.

“Tonight is Vivian’s last night in New York. I’ll dance with her later.”

With that, he turned and walked toward the dance floor.

Seeing that I was still about to leave, Vivian suddenly grabbed my arm.

She lowered her voice, madness and hatred burning in her eyes.

“What exactly did you say to the Don? Why did he suddenly speak to me like that?”

“Nerina, as long as you’re alive, I will never feel safe.”

Before I could even react, she shoved me hard.

I stumbled backward.

The twelve-tier crystal champagne tower collapsed with a deafening crash.

Glass exploded.

The entire banquet hall fell into instant silence.

Everyone turned at once.

Marcus spun around too.

As I was about to fall backward into the field of shattered glass, I instinctively threw out my left hand to brace myself.

My right hand was still splinted.

It was useless.

Large razor-sharp crystal shards pierced straight through my left palm.

Blood spread instantly.

Marcus was already striding toward me.

But in the very next second, he still chose to pick up the crying Vivian first.

Without looking back, he carried her out of the banquet hall.

And behind him—

I sat alone in the center of the shattered crystal.

Both my hands were covered in blood.

That night, I sat by the window in my room and stayed there until dawn.

I watched the moon hanging in the sky and imagined that I was already in Sicily.

At first light, I carried my suitcase and got into a taxi outside the estate gates.

Many years later, when I thought back on that day, I suddenly realized something.

At that moment, I had not thought of Marcus even once.

At the airport security checkpoint.

Hurried footsteps came from behind me.

“Vivian!”

It was Marcus’s voice.

I stopped and smiled softly.

So he really could put aside his own wedding just to come and see her off in person.

I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t dare raise my hands either.

Both of them were wrapped in layers of gauze.

At this moment, my heart no longer hurt.

Neither did my hands.

His deep voice came from behind me.

“I’ll find a way to bring you back as soon as possible.”

No need, Marcus.

In my last life, you gave your life to protect me.

In this life, let me fulfill your wish for you.

I disappeared behind the security gate.

Leaving behind this steel-and-concrete New York.

Heading toward flowers, sea breeze, and a Sicily without you.

And the man there, Marcus would never touch.

Whether I live… or not…depends on him now.

Marcus.

If there is another life.