Chapter 2

My heart seized the moment I heard the scream.

“Stop!” I ordered. The driver slammed on the brakes, and I pushed the door open.

Liliane was sprawled on the ground, her pristine white gown torn open at the hem, blood streaking across her cheek.

Dominic’s eyes went bloodshot in an instant. He scooped her up like a knight rescuing a princess and spun toward me, his voice exploding in rage.

“Eva, are you out of your damn mind?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

His glare was feral, seething.

“You wanted to ruin her face, didn’t you? How could you be this cruel? Do you even have a conscience?”

Liliane buried herself deeper into his arms, sobbing delicately.

“Dominic, please... she didn’t mean it. Don’t be angry at Eva...”

“Liliane, you’re too kind,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear before turning back to me, venom dripping from his tone.

“Apologize to her. Right now. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

I stood still, face cold, saying nothing.

He looked down at the torn gown and then back at me, sneering.

“Liliane’s dress is ruined. Give her yours. Consider it an apology.”

I stiffened. “No.”

That gown—my gown—had once belonged to my grandmother.

She’d worn it the day she married my grandfather; but an enemy family’s bullet ended her life when I was fifteen years old. She’d loved me more than anyone, and I’d restored her wedding dress to wear it when I walked down the aisle—to carry her with me.

My voice trembled with restrained fury. “Tell me, Liliane—doesn’t it disgust you, wearing someone else’s dress?”

Liliane’s face crumpled. She burst into tears, her voice sharp and accusing.

“Eva, you’ve hated me for so long! You ruined my dress, and now you’re mocking me? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Dominic’s jaw tightened, anger flaring.

He stormed back into the boutique, shouting, “Bring me Eva Valentino’s gown—now!”

I followed him, fury boiling. “Dominic Corleone, what the hell are you doing?”

He turned, shoving my hand away, his voice like a whip.

“If you care so much about that damn relic, then no one gets it!”

Before I could stop him, he grabbed a pair of tailor’s shears from the counter.

“Don’t—!” I screamed.

But it was too late.

He slashed through the lace, cutting and tearing until the delicate fabric fell in shreds.

“Dominic, stop!” I lunged for him, but he shoved me hard. My back hit the fitting mirror, which reflected my disheveled appearance as I slumped to the ground.

On my knees, I gathered the torn pieces of fabric—pieces that still smelled faintly like my grandmother’s old perfume. My fingers trembled as I tried to hold them together.

Liliane stepped closer, hovering just out of reach, fake concern flickering behind her smug smile. She lifted a hand, pretending to help me.

“Eva... are you alright?”

I slapped her hand away. “Get away from me!”

She stumbled back, letting out a shrill cry for effect.

“Ah—Eva….!”

The scissors clattered to the floor as Dominic rushed to her, fury exploding across his face.

“Eva, you never learn, do you?”

He raised his foot and stomped down—hard—on my hand. My bones were cracking under pressure, the pain was so intense that my vision went black, and the air was filled with the smell of blood

“Dominic... stop—” My voice broke, but he didn’t even look down.

The world spun. I gasped for air, fury and humiliation coiling in my chest like barbed wire.

“You dare hurt me?” I hissed, trembling. “The Valentino family will never forgive you!”

He sneered, pressing down harder, twisting the heel of his polished shoe into my skin.

In the corner of my eye, Liliane leaned lazily against the doorframe, her lips curving into a secret, satisfied smile.

Finally, when the edges of my vision began to blur and my fingertips went numb, Dominic stepped back.

He didn’t spare me a glance. He just wrapped his coat around Liliane’s shoulders and started for the door.

“Reflect what you’ve done, such a jealous woman,” he snapped coldly. “You’ll marry me soon enough—try not to disgrace the Corleone name before that happens.”

The bell above the door chimed softly as they left, leaving me alone on the floor—blood dripping from my hand, lace in tatters around me.

A clerk rushed over, pale and shaking.

“Miss Valentino... are you alright?”

I shook my head, clutching the shredded fabric to my chest. The gown was ruined, my grandmother’s last blessing destroyed—like the last piece of warmth I’d ever had.

When I finally stepped outside, the wind hit my face like shards of glass.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to exist.

Dominic thought I could never live without the Corleone name.

He thought I’d beg, crawl, forgive.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

I pulled out my phone, my voice trembling but firm.

“Mother,” I said, “I’m calling off the engagement. I’m done with Dominic Corleone.”