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Chapter 3

Author: Lyra Vesta
Eight minutes until the ceremony.

Dante’s father called him away to greet the heads of two allied families.

The fingers of the hand he’d been holding had begun to curl as the muscles stiffened.

In my half-open left eye, the clear support rod was still hidden beneath the drying frosting.

Enzo checked the time, his patience gone.

“We can’t seriously keep three hundred people waiting for her.”

Marco looked at Tessa.

“Should we help her outside?”

Tessa sneered.

“She wants to keep pretending? Let’s see how long she lasts in front of the guests.”

The two capos each grabbed an arm and dragged me toward the vanity.

My body slid off the sofa. The back of my head struck the armrest with a dull thud.

Dante’s jacket fell to the floor.

I couldn’t feel physical pain anymore.

But watching them drag my body around still hurt.

I tried to push them away.

“Let go of me!”

“Stop dragging me!”

Enzo grimaced.

“Why is she so heavy?”

Tessa scoffed.

“She’s making herself dead weight.”

She picked up the ring light and aimed its harsh glare at my face.

“Isabella, this is your last chance.”

“Keep this up, and I’ll edit that video and put it on the big screen while you’re exchanging rings.”

Marco hesitated.

“Tess, isn’t that going a little far?”

“How?”

She stared at me.

“She cares more about appearances than anything. Scare her a little, and she’ll get up.”

Enzo joined in.

“Isabella, enough. Don’t make us actually play it.”

The room fell silent.

No one answered.

Tessa’s smile finally faltered.

She gave my shoulder a push.

My body tipped sideways, my cheek striking the vanity.

A thin trail of dark red seeped from my left eye.

Marco stared at it.

“Is she bleeding?”

Tessa wiped it with a tissue.

“Raspberry filling.”

Dante returned. His face darkened at the sight of my soiled gown.

“Who told you to move her?”

He bent down and carried me back to the sofa.

“I said to leave her alone to calm down. Haven’t you caused enough trouble today?”

Enzo said nothing.

But Tessa’s eyes filled with tears.

“We’re trying to help you!”

“Your guests are waiting, and your bride won’t move. Now we’re the bad guys for trying to help?”

Dante didn’t soothe her as he usually did. He looked down at my dirty skirt.

“She loves this dress.”

Tessa’s voice sharpened.

“So a dress matters more than your friends?”

“It’s not about the dress.”

Dante looked up sharply.

“Tessa, this is my wedding. And she’s my wife.”

The room went quiet.

I’d waited years to hear him stand up for me in front of Tessa.

Now he finally had.

But too late.

Dante picked up my veil and carefully settled it over my hair, then began wiping the cake from my face.

“I should’ve handled this better. If you’re angry, take it out on me.”

He rested his forehead against mine.

“Just don’t shut me out.”

His phone chimed. The wedding coordinator had sent over a clip from our pre-wedding interview.

On the screen, I was sitting beside a window.

The interviewer asked, “Isabella, what’s Dante’s biggest flaw?”

I thought for a moment.

“Loyalty means everything to him. He doesn’t just demand it. He’s loyal in return. But sometimes that makes it hard for him to say no to his friends.”

“Does that bother you?”

The woman in the video shook her head.

“It used to. But he told me that if he ever had to choose between me and someone else, he’d choose me.”

I smiled.

“I believe him.”

Dante went pale.

He turned off the screen and said nothing for a long time.

Then he tightened his grip on my hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Bella, after today, I’ll make this right.”

I looked at him and almost laughed.

There was already no more us.
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