Chapter 2

Cecilia Marino's POV

Even though it cut deep when Antonio walked out on our 51st wedding ceremony, I still poured my heart into preparing for the 52nd.

I sat down with the hotel manager to redesign the theme of the venue and had her start on the decorations well in advance.

Once the preliminary arrangements were handled, I finally allowed myself a small sigh of relief.

The manager looked at me, a flicker of pity crossing her face. "Ms. Marino, do you think we should ask Mr. Bianco to come in for a rehearsal?"

I went quiet for a moment. "He's… very busy."

"Ms. Marino, forgive me if I'm overstepping. But after all these attempts, Mr. Bianco always ends up leaving with Ms. Serra. There were even a few times he didn't show up at all."

She paused, then continued tentatively, "Every name on the guest list is from your side of the famiglia. I've never once seen a member of the Bianco famiglia here. I've heard about the '52 chances' pact between you two, and I can only assume how deep your bond is. Otherwise, I can't imagine any woman putting up with such a disrespectful arrangement."

Her voice dropped. "Can he really give you a complete ceremony this time?"

Her questions hit a raw nerve. A dull ache rose in my chest, and I clenched my hand tightly.

Antonio and I had been together for three years. He was the man who would drape a coat over my shoulders the moment the temperature dipped, the man who would fan me in the sweltering heat.

I remembered one late night when I was cornered by muggers. Antonio had just come from a bloody shootout with a rival famiglia. Despite his own injuries, he had pushed his battered body to get to me, causing his wounds to tear open a second time.

Though he was soaked in blood, he held me close and told me not to be afraid, that he would always protect me.

It was those memories that kept me obediently accepting Antonio's rejections, time after time.

My silence made the manager nervous. "I'm just talking out of turn, Ms. Marino. This is the 52nd time. We'll put extra heart into it. I'm sure things will finally work out for you and Mr. Bianco."

I gave her a strained smile and nodded. "Thank you. I hope so."

"Ms. Marino, why don't you try asking if Mr. Bianco has time for a quick rehearsal? Since this is the one where you'll finally tie the knot."

I hesitated for a moment, then dialed his number. "Antonio—"

"Cecilia," he cut in, his voice gentle and warm. "I was just about to call you. The Bianco famiglia is hosting an art exhibition later this evening. Come with me. I remember you once told me you loved Early Renaissance pieces."

Whenever he ditched me at the altar for Rosetta, he always found some way to make it up to me the following day.

This time was no different.

"I'm truly sorry about yesterday. Please, let me make it up to you."

When I heard the soft cadence of his voice, my resolve crumbled. I told him I would be there soon.

He had arranged a car for me and even sent over an exquisite designer gown.

As I ran my fingers over the delicate fabric, I let myself hope. At our 52nd wedding ceremony, we would finally have our happy ending.

I changed into the dress and made my way to the art exhibition held at Villa Brezza Marina.

A moment later, Antonio arrived.

I was about to step forward to greet him, but then I watched him turn back and extend his hand. A pale, slender hand slid into his palm.

Rosetta was with him.

Antonio finally noticed me. He hurried over, his voice smooth with practiced explanation. "Cecilia, I need to help Rosetta gain some standing with the other families. Opportunities like this don't come often. You don't mind that I brought her along, do you?"

I had no choice but to shake my head.

The gallery was hushed, its walls lined with oil paintings. Rosetta rested her hand on Antonio's arm, whispering to him about the nuances of a particular brushstroke. He leaned in close, listening with rapt attention.

I trailed behind them like a ghost who had no business being there.

When we reached the lounge area, Antonio took a phone call and gestured for me to wait for him out on the terrace.

I pushed the doors open, and the sharp chill of the night air rushed in to meet me.

I was about to turn back inside when Rosetta's voice drifted through a window that hadn't been fully latched.

"Antonio, when exactly do you plan on telling Cecilia that you and I are already married?"

I froze, the words hitting me like a physical blow.

A heavy silence hung in the air for a few heartbeats. Then came Antonio's voice.

"I'll tell her when the time is right."

"And what about me? What about the child?"

"You will always be the Donna of the Bianco famiglia, and your child will be the heir. You have my word on that."

"And what of Cecilia?"

"Once your position in the Bianco famiglia is secure, we'll arrange a quiet divorce. After that, I'll give Cecilia everything she deserves."

Rosetta let out a soft laugh. "Antonio, do you really think she'll just accept that once she knows the truth?"

Outside, my knuckles turned white as I gripped my wine glass.

"She'll accept it," he finally said, his tone calm and certain. "She loves me. She won't leave."

I didn't stay to hear another word. I turned and walked away.

No wonder he never hesitated to abandon me for Rosetta during every wedding ceremony.

That place that was supposed to be mine—the title of his wife—he had already given to Rosetta long ago.

The 52nd wedding was never going to happen. Not anymore.

With trembling hands, I dialed the number of Kyle, the Head of the International Medical Organization.

"Hello. This is Cecilia Marino. I'm calling to accept your offer."