Chapter 2

"Camilla, you're being too petty," Dante said, his brows furrowing slightly, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"Lucia has had a hard life these past few years. She just wants to hear the vows—vows she'll never get the chance to hear in this lifetime—in front of God. Davide died because of me. I owe him this."

I was just about to say something when the priest came over and asked us to step up to the altar.

"Ms. Colombo, stand a little closer to Mr. Corleone. Yes, smile. Look a bit happier!"

I forced the corners of my mouth upward.

With the priest officiating, Dante took my hand and began reciting the vows. But his phone kept lighting up and vibrating continuously in the pocket of his black suit.

Every notification was from Lucia, one after another.

"I solemnly swear before God…"

The first message read, "Dante, did I cause you trouble?"

"...for richer or for poorer…"

Another message read, "Will Camilla hate me even more now?"

"...to love and to cherish…"

And yet another read, "I just suddenly miss Davide so much."

Dante couldn't help but constantly glance at his phone. The crease between his brows grew deeper with every message.

"Mr. Corleone, please look at Ms. Colombo," the priest called out again.

When he finally raised his head, his gaze still lingered on the phone screen.

Suddenly, I didn't want to smile anymore.

When the video clips of the rehearsal were posted in the family group chat, the very first video was of Dante and Lucia standing together on the altar. She was wearing a wedding dress, while he was dressed in a custom suit.

Light poured in from the domed ceiling, bathing them in a glow that made them look almost sacred—like a match made in heaven.

Dante's Mamma, Maria Morelli, was the first to reply.

"What a Bellissimo video!"

Soon, others jumped in.

"Lucia looks absolutely gorgeous in a wedding dress."

"If only Davide were still here… Today would've been so perfect."

"Dante looks the part standing next to her too. The two Fratelli always did look alike."

Holding my phone, I stood in front of the mirror next to the confessional, quietly reading through their messages.

They had plenty to say, and it all revolved around how Bellissimo Lucia looked and how perfect she and Dante looked together.

Meanwhile, Lucia sat in the front pew, her head bowed as she wiped away her tears. She cried quietly, her shoulders trembling with each sob. A small patch of lace across the chest of her wedding dress had darkened with tears.

Finally, someone in the group chat asked, "Wait. Why are Dante and Lucia the ones rehearsing? Where's Camilla?"

Dante glanced at the messages. He typed a few words, then deleted them. In the end, he turned off his phone altogether.

I waited for a long time, but he offered no explanation.

Finally, he walked toward me.

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of Davide's death," he said in a low voice. "I don't want to trigger her in the group chat."

"Then what about me? What are they going to think of me, Dante?"

I stared at him, and he froze for a second.

"You're my fiancee. I'll explain everything. Just don't make a scene in the group chat, Va Bene, Camilla?"

"Dante, when you exchanged those vows with me just now, were you really thinking about me?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Still sitting in the pew, Lucia lifted her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Camilla, don't blame Dante. This is all my fault. I just miss Davide too much."

I turned toward her, and a cold scoff escaped me.

"You're right. It is your fault."

Lucia blinked. Then she covered her face and began sobbing again.

Dante's expression darkened instantly. "Camilla Colombo!"

He rarely called me by my full name. In our Famiglia, using someone's full name meant they had done something seriously wrong.

Lucia's tears fell even faster. "I'll have them delete those videos right now. It's all my fault! I shouldn't have come!"

Dante caught her hand. "Don't."

Then he turned to me. "Camilla, you know Lucia hasn't been able to move on these past few years."

Of course I knew.

Ever since Davide Corleone died, Dante had spent every anniversary of his death with Lucia. When she cried, he went to her. When she wanted to take Davide's car out for a late-night drive, he went with her.

Once, she swallowed a whole bunch of sleeping pills, and Dante walked away from a negotiation table without a second thought, rushing her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped.

I had never stopped him.

I loved him, and so I respected his choices.

I understood that Davide's death was a wound he carried inside him, and he needed to heal it by making amends to Lucia.

But today, it suddenly struck me that his amends had gone on for far too long, and they had crossed way too many lines.

He always placed me second to Lucia, as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

And that kind of love? I no longer wanted it.