Chapter 4

When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed.

Marco sat beside me, holding my hand. Faint shadows under his eyes.

I woke. Something like relief flashed across his face—gone a second later.

"I spoke to your father. He won't make this harder for you. But you promise me—you won't hurt your sister again."

I almost laughed. Anger burned hotter than the IV in my arm. I pulled my hand away.

He frowned, about to say more—

And Bella limped in. Small steps. Big act.

"I know Lara didn't mean to push me. When I heard she fainted, I had to come see her."

The performance made my stomach turn.

Then Marco stepped outside to take a call.

Bella's sweetness vanished.

"Lara, the wedding's almost here. You better heal fast. How else are you gonna watch me wear this when I marry Marco?"

She opened the box.

My mother's wedding necklace.

"So ugly, though. Good thing Dad agreed to take it apart. Turn it into gemstone earrings and a ring. He's so good to me."

Rage shot through me. I ignored the pain, forced myself upright, reached for it—

Before I touched her, Bella screamed and dropped to the floor.

Marco walked in right on cue.

She looked up at him, all fragile. "Marco, don't blame Lara. She was just upset when she saw me. That's why she pushed me."

I stared at her. "You love acting, huh? Fine. I'll give you something real to act about."

I slapped her. Hard.

Marco shoved me back, rage all over his face. "Lara, you never change. You're hurting your sister again. Look at you. How are you fit to be a future Donna?"

I hit the bed frame. Something cracked. Warm blood ran down my forehead.

His pupils tightened. He stepped toward me—

Bella grabbed his arm right on time. "Marco, I'm fine. Just my ankle. But Lara's bleeding. Shouldn't you check her first?"

He froze. His eyes flicked between us.

Then he bent and scooped Bella up instead. His voice went flat. "Forget her. If she doesn't learn, she'll keep hurting you."

He looked at me like I was nothing. "Since you won't admit your mistake, you're going to the basement. You don't come out until the day before the wedding."

He knew I was scared of the dark. He knew about the claustrophobia.

His face stayed cold. "Fear is the only thing you understand."

They dragged me into the basement.

Dark. Narrow. No windows.

I was a kid again—locked in pitch black by my father. The memory hit like ice water.

I curled up in the corner, shaking. Sweat soaked my back.

Time didn't move.

Just when my mind started to crack, the door creaked open.

Bella stood there, smiling. "I thought Marco would go harder. Just locking you up? That's soft."

She clapped. Two stone-faced men walked in.

"Let's spice it up. Strap her in. Make sure she remembers."

They forced me onto a freezing metal chair. Leather bit into my wrists and ankles. Cold pads pressed against my temples.

Panic slammed through me. I thrashed against the restraints.

"You think you can do this and walk away? You really believe I won't kill you when I get out?"

"Kill me?"

Bella laughed. "You think you'd get the chance? Marco would stop you first. Did you forget? He always believes me. He always picks me."

Every word cut deep.

She wasn't wrong.

No matter the truth, Marco chose her. Every time.

My hands went slack.

Bella pressed the button.

"Ah—!"

Electric pain ripped through me. My body jerked, out of control. I screamed.

Darkness swallowed my vision. The pain tore me apart.

When I woke up, I was in my own bed.

Marco stood there, frowning at how pale I looked. "I only locked you up for a few days to reflect. How did you end up like this?"

I closed my eyes. Didn't want to see him. Didn't want to talk.

I didn't expect him to believe me anymore.

He sighed. "The wedding's soon. You'll be center stage. Get yourself together."

The wedding.

So he still had no idea the bride had been switched.

Dad hurried over, pulling him aside. "Of course. We'll make sure the bride looks radiant."

After Marco left, Dad turned on me. "Listen carefully. You are not showing up tomorrow to cause trouble. Don't embarrass me."

I let out a soft laugh. "Relax. Even if you begged, I wouldn't go to that wedding."

***

I slept till morning.

Next day, once everyone headed to the wedding, I grabbed my passport, packed a bag, slipped on my mom's necklace, and took a cab to the airport. Didn't look back.

We passed the venue.

Marco stood out front in a sharp suit, face lit up, waiting for his bride.

My heart stayed steady.

When Bella walked out instead, he'd be smiling just the same.

Call it my wedding gift.

I had another one, too. For my father and his precious mistake.

The cab turned the corner. My eyes went cold. I hit the remote.

The blast ripped through the air.

The Leone mansion went up in flames.

The fortune my mother bled for?

It would never belong to that cheating bastard or his daughter.

***

Third-Person POV

Meanwhile, Marco waited, tight as a wire—then froze.

The bride stepping out wasn't Lara.

It was Bella.

His smile dropped. Gone.

"Marco, of course it's me. Didn't your family tell you? They said I'm a better fit to be your wife than Lara. And she agreed."

His eyes went sharp. He shoved her hard.

Bella yelped, stumbling back into the bushes. Her dress snagged on a branch and ripped. The veil slipped sideways, hair falling loose, a mess.

Marco didn't even look at her. He scanned the place, breathing rough, barely holding it together.

"Where's Lara?! Where is she?!"

An explosion ripped through the distance.

One of Marco's guys came sprinting over, panic all over his face.

"Don! The Leone mansion just blew! Miss Lara was inside!"

Boom.

Something in Marco's head snapped.

Blank.