Chapter 3

On the other end of the line, my mother, Sophia, gasped audibly.

“Eva, have you really thought this through? You and Dominic grew up together, and the marriage between the Corleone and Valentino families was arranged years ago—”

I cut her off before she could go on.

“Mom, Dominic isn’t worth it. You don’t want me to spend the rest of my life unhappy, do you?”

There was a pause, and when she finally spoke again, her voice had softened.

“Eva… if you’ve truly made up your mind, I support you. Your father and I never trusted Dominic completely. He’s too impulsive—he’ll never be able to shoulder the responsibility of the Corleone name.”

Another pause, then she added firmly,

“I’ll talk to your father right now. We’ll find a way to cancel the engagement with the Corleones.”

I hadn’t even made it home when my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was a video message from Grace—my best friend and a nurse at our family’s private hospital.

The video opened to the ER.

Dominic was there, holding Lillian in his arms, his voice dripping with tenderness that made my stomach twist.

“Don’t be afraid, honey. You’ll be fine soon.”

Lillian sobbed pitifully, “Am I… am I ugly now? Will you still want me if I’m ugly, Dominic?”

Dominic’s voice turned soft—dangerously soft.

“Silly girl. I’ve been waiting for you to grow up all these years.”

He brushed a tear from her cheek, gaze full of adoration.

“I’ve been waiting because I love you. Can’t you see that?”

Lillian whimpered, her tone trembling with deliberate self-pity.

“But I’ve always been sick… and my family isn’t powerful like the Valentinos. I’m not worthy of you…”

Dominic frowned, pulling her tightly into his arms before pressing his lips to hers.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Even without an alliance, you’d still be my woman.”

The video cut off right there—frozen on their kiss.

Almost immediately, Grace called, fury burning through her words.

“That bastard! The Corleones were the ones begging for this alliance, and he dares to treat you like this? Eva, don’t marry him. He doesn’t deserve you!”

“I won’t,” I said quietly. “I’ve already decided to end it.”

When I got home, I didn’t even bother tending to my swollen, bruised hand.

Instead, I took out my grandmother’s wedding gown—the one Dominic had destroyed—and began stitching it back together.

The delicate lacework tore at my fingers until tiny drops of blood marked the fabric, but I didn’t stop.

I had just tied off the final thread when my phone buzzed again.

A text from an unfamiliar number flashed on the screen:

“This is Vincent Corleone.

I heard you plan to cancel your engagement with Dominic.

I agree.

But I have one condition.”

Confused, I frowned—then, half an hour later, someone knocked on my door.

It was a deliveryman with a velvet box in his hands.

Inside lay a diamond ring—a large pigeon-blood ruby encircled by brilliant diamonds.

My phone lit up again.

Another message from Vincent:

“The alliance between our families is important.

I hope it doesn’t fall apart.

If Miss Valentino agrees, I am willing to take Dominic’s place as your fiancé—and your protector for life.

This ring is my engagement gift.

I’ll return to New York in seven days to discuss the wedding arrangements.”

Seven days?

My thumb hovered above the screen, but I didn’t hurry to reply.

I slipped my phone into my pocket, threw on my coat, and headed to Dominic’s villa to pack up my things.

The moment I opened the door, I heard laughter—sweet, sticky, and unbearable.

Lillian was curled up in Dominic’s arms, her fingers playing with his tie as she pouted.

“Dominic, what if Eva really gets angry? If she refuses to marry you, will it affect the Corleones’ business?”

Dominic chuckled, pinching her chin affectionately.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault—you’re just too kind.”

He leaned back against the sofa, a smirk twisting his lips.

“Everyone knows Eva’s been desperate to marry me. If she hadn’t faked that illness years ago to make me pity her, I never would’ve agreed to the engagement.”

He laughed, cruel and careless.

“She’s like a little lapdog, begging to be my wife. You really think she has the guts to refuse me just because I postponed the wedding?”

I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.

Then I pulled out my phone and typed a single message to Vincent Corleone:

“Alright. I agree.”