Chapter 3

"Lara, quit provoking Marco. Come on, I'll help you pick a gown."

Bella slapped a hand over my mouth and dragged me upstairs.

Door shut. I pulled free. "No one's here. Drop the act."

The sweet mask vanished. "I was doing you a favor. Letting you keep some dignity in front of Marco.

"You have no clue. Yesterday, when Dad said I could take your place, Marco's parents were thrilled. Said I'm thoughtful. Gentle. Unlike you—rude, embarrassing. Not fit to be a Don's wife."

I lifted a brow. "Oh yeah? Then why not tell him the bride's been swapped? Scared he'll call it off once he knows?"

Her face went stiff. "Don't be ridiculous. If he knew, he'd be relieved it's me. I just want to surprise him on the wedding day. So keep your mouth shut."

"Relax. I'm not interested in sabotaging your marriage."

This life, I'm choosing myself.

***

Marco still made me go to the ball.

In front of everyone, he took Bella's hand and led her to the floor. Right before he walked off, he shot me a look. "You don't even know a proper waltz. Watch your sister. Learn something."

They moved like they'd rehearsed it their whole lives. Perfect timing. Perfect smiles.

Whispers floated through the crowd.

"Isn't Lara Leone supposed to be Don Grimaldi's future wife? Why's he dancing with her sister?"

"Please. He obviously prefers Bella. She's elegant. Composed. Lara's gorgeous, sure—but too flashy to be Donna."

I'd had enough.

I slipped out to the terrace for air.

Bella showed up minutes later.

"Lara, hiding out here alone? Don't tell me you're jealous after watching Marco dance with me."

She moved in close, eyes bright like she'd already won. Her voice dropped. "I told you. Between us, anyone would pick the proper one. Even Marco.

"You're pathetic. Your mom couldn't beat mine back then. And now you can't beat me.

"Same blood. Same failures."

Most of her trash talk? Whatever.

But she dragged my mom into it.

That crossed the line.

I slapped her. Hard.

Marco had just walked up. He saw everything.

"Bella!"

She glanced at him—then stumbled back on purpose.

And tipped over the railing.

Marco's shout split the air as she fell into the pool below.

Chaos exploded downstairs.

I watched her thrash in the water, face blank.

Wind brushed past me.

Marco dove in and hauled Bella out, holding her tight.

I let out a soft laugh, pushed my hair back, and turned to leave.

Didn't make it far.

Marco—towel over his shoulders—grabbed my wrist. Fury and disbelief all over his face. "You pushed your sister off that terrace. I told you to learn from her. This what you learned? Come back and apologize."

I jerked free. "Apologize? She jumped. If you're dumb enough to fall for it, that's your problem. Why should I say sorry?"

His eyes burned red. "You're hopeless."

He didn't even look at me when he spoke to the guards. "If she won't apologize, teach her a lesson. Hold her in the decorative pool. She doesn't come out without my word. Not till the reception's over."

I fought. "Marco! Who do you think you are? You don't get to touch me!"

He grabbed me, dragged me to the pool's edge. Voice low. Controlled. "I'm your fiancé.

"You embarrassed your sister in front of everybody. If I don't discipline you, your father and my parents will do worse.

"Remember this. After we're married, you won't pull a stunt like this again."

"You're not my fiancé. We already—"

I never got it out.

The guards grabbed me and shoved my head under the water.

Winter night. The ornamental pool was ice-cold, nothing like the heated one. The filth and cold sank straight into my bones.

I choked, clawing for air. Every time I broke the surface, they shoved me back down. Again. Again.

Then a sharp cramp twisted low in my stomach.

Warmth spread beneath me.

My period.

Bright red bled into the water, staining half the pool. The murk turned metallic.

My face went white. I was freezing. In pain.

Even the guards hesitated.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard them call out, voices tight.

"Don... She's on her period. There's a lot of blood. We still going?"

Silence.

Then Marco's voice. Cold. Certain. "Continue. Otherwise, she'll never learn."

Learn?

To him, my resistance didn't matter. My pain didn't matter. My words meant nothing.

He wanted obedience. That's it.

The despair hit harder than the cold.

My tears slipped into the filthy water, gone without a trace.

I couldn't fight anymore.

Darkness crept in.

I sank into the blood-stained water and blacked out.