Chapter 3 — Mrs. De Luca

The wedding was supposed to be fake.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

But standing in front of the mirror in a white wedding dress, I wasn't sure anymore.

Sofia adjusted my veil.

"You look like a princess."

"I feel like I'm attending my own funeral."

She laughed.

"You're marrying Adrian De Luca. Some women would kill for that."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

She stopped laughing.

"Don't joke about that."

"I'm not."

The doors opened.

Adrian stood outside.

He wore a black tuxedo.

His expression was unreadable.

His eyes met mine.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he offered his arm.

"Ready?"

"No."

"Good."

I placed my hand on his arm.

We walked.

The ceremony was private.

Only a few people were present.

Adrian's closest associates.

His lawyer.

His family.

And several heavily armed guards.

Romantic.

The priest began speaking.

I barely heard him.

Then came the vows.

Adrian looked at me.

"I do."

My turn.

I swallowed.

"I do."

The rings were exchanged.

Then the priest smiled.

"You may kiss the bride."

My heart stopped.

We hadn't discussed this.

I looked at Adrian.

He leaned closer.

"Just pretend."

"Right."

His hand settled gently against my waist.

His lips touched mine.

It lasted only a second.

But somehow, that second felt much longer.

When he pulled away, my face was burning.

The guests applauded.

Adrian whispered—

"Congratulations, Mrs. De Luca."

I whispered back—

"Don't get used to it."

The reception was even more overwhelming.

People approached us constantly.

Congratulations.

Compliments.

Questions.

Everyone wanted to meet the mysterious woman who had married Adrian De Luca.

Then an older man approached.

"Adrian."

Adrian's posture stiffened.

"Mr. Moretti."

The man's gaze moved to me.

"So this is your wife."

"Yes."

He smiled.

But there was something unpleasant about it.

"Interesting."

I forced a smile.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

He leaned closer.

"Be careful, Mrs. De Luca."

Adrian stepped between us.

"That's enough."

Moretti laughed.

"I'm only offering advice."

"Your advice isn't wanted."

Moretti walked away.

I looked at Adrian.

"Who was that?"

"Dante Moretti."

"And?"

"My rival."

I stared after him.

"You have rivals?"

Adrian looked at me.

"Elena, I'm not the man you thought you married."

"I figured that out yesterday."

His eyes darkened.

"Good."

That night, I moved into Adrian's bedroom.

I stared at him.

"Where's my room?"

"You're sleeping here."

I blinked.

"You said we would have separate rooms."

"We need to convince people this marriage is real."

I crossed my arms.

"I'll sleep on the couch."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because the couch is uncomfortable."

"You care?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because I said so."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're impossible."

He walked toward the closet.

"You'll get used to it."

"Never."

He stopped.

Then looked at me.

"That's what Isabella said."

The name changed everything.

He became distant.

I suddenly understood.

Isabella wasn't just a missing woman.

She had left a wound.

One Adrian refused to show.

I turned away.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Elena."

I climbed into bed.

Minutes passed.

Neither of us slept.

Then—

CRASH!

A window shattered downstairs.

Adrian was instantly out of bed.

He pulled a gun from the drawer.

"Stay here."

My heart pounded.

"Adrian—"

"Lock the door."

He disappeared into the hallway.

I heard shouting.

Then gunshots.

I covered my mouth.

A few minutes later, silence returned.

The door opened.

Adrian stood there.

His shirt was torn.

There was blood on his hand.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head.

"No."

He walked toward me.

I stared at the blood.

"Whose is that?"

He didn't answer.

Then he opened his hand.

A small black object sat in his palm.

A rose-shaped metal pin.

I frowned.

"What is it?"

His expression became grim.

"It's a warning."

"From who?"

He looked directly into my eyes.

"Moretti."