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Chapter 3

Autor: City Scribe
In that moment, the world lost its shape. I stared at the names side by side—Vincent and Elena—and it felt like a hole had been torn through my heart. I picked up the invitation, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. After a long time, I finally locked the card, along with the scattered photos of us, into the old safe beneath my bed.

Leaning back against the hard mattress, I thought I saw Vincent from eight years ago standing right in front of me, smiling at me so gently. However, in the next second, he was holding Elena’s hand, walking toward the sacred St. Patrick’s Cathedral. No matter how I ran after him and called his name through tears, he never once turned back.

The next morning, at a convenience store in Brooklyn, I had just arrived when I was called into the manager’s office.

“You’re fired.” The manager placed an envelope on the table. “This is your pay. I hope you understand we’re not a charity.”

Following his gaze, I looked down at myself. The buttons on my uniform were all crooked, fastened wrong. I had even worn my flats on the wrong feet. It felt like someone had slapped me out of nowhere. My face burned.

I lowered my head and said, “I understand, sir.”

Then, I took the envelope.

As I turned to leave, I heard him add, “People like us can’t afford to offend the Medici family. Be careful.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

However, the moment I stepped out of the store, I lost my sense of direction. The familiar skyscrapers suddenly all looked the same. Even the colorful taxis blurred into a dull gray. Without realizing it, I found myself standing in front of the Mexican deli where I used to work eight years ago. It was the place where Vincent and I first met.

I looked at the red brick walls and the flickering neon lights. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Over the last eight years, I had forgotten so many people and things. However, anything related to Vincent seemed to me etched into my memories. Even without consciously thinking about it, I still remembered.

I was about to leave when I saw Elena step out of a red Ferrari, dressed like a high-society lady. Almost immediately, a group of soldati in black suits rushed out of the restaurant. They formed two lines and bowed their heads respectfully.

“Donna!”

Hearing that title, I froze. For a moment, it felt like I was back ten years ago, with Vincent holding my hand, introducing me to the family.

“This is my girlfriend, Christine. From now on, she’ll be your Donna.”

Now, everything had changed.

At that moment, Elena looked over.

“Christine? What are you doing here?”

At her voice, the soldati standing in two lines all turned to look at me.

“It really is Christine. How dare she show up? She’s the one who got the Godfather locked up for eight years.”

“Some women are just born rotten. The Godfather treated her so well, only for her to repay him like that. How disgusting.”

“Is she here to make amends today?”

Hearing their words, I turned to leave, but Elena stepped forward.

“You’re not here to see Vincent, are you? While Vincent was in prison, he asked to see you two thousand nine hundred and twenty times, but you didn’t go even once. And now that he’s out and has become the Godfather of the Medici family, you come back looking for him?”

My face remained blank as I replied, “You’re overthinking it. I was just passing by.”

Elena snickered. “What a coincidence. Since we’re old friends, let me give you some advice. Do yourself a favor, and stay away from Vincent.”

I nodded. “Alright. I understand.”

I had barely taken a step when two soldati stood in my way. Then, a man with slicked-back hair walked over.

“Do you still remember me, Christine?”

His face slowly overlapped with a memory of someone named John. He was Vincent’s most trusted capo, and the only male friend I had back when I worked at the restaurant.

The name slipped out before I could stop it.

“John?”

John sneered. “Don’t call me that. Whatever we had ended eight years ago—the moment you betrayed the Godfather.”

With that, he waved his hand, and the two soldati immediately brought over ten bottles of tequila. John looked at me with undisguised disgust.

“The Godfather always said that if you make a mistake, you own up to it. Since you’re a woman, we’ll go easy on you. Drink these ten bottles, and we won’t make things harder for you.”

My face went pale. I lifted my eyes and saw, not far away, the window of a familiar black Cadillac slowly rolling down. Vincent’s face appeared, handsome and cold. There was no warmth in his eyes, only indifference. In that instant, my chest tightened, and I finally understood that the opposite of love wasn’t hate. It was indifference and being ignored.

Slowly, I looked away. Right there, in front of everyone, I picked up a bottle of tequila and started drinking, one burning gulp after another. I didn’t know how much I had drunk. All I knew was that my throat felt like it had swallowed countless blades, the pain unbearable.

Under the crowd’s cold, watchful eyes, I suddenly clutched my throat. Then, uncontrollably, I coughed up mouthful after mouthful of blood.
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  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 20

    On April 20th, Vincent went to the Queens Cemetery for the last time. He was wearing the same dark gray coat he had on during his first date with Christine. Eight years had passed, and the coat now looked worn, with the cuffs frayed. He didn’t know why he had never thrown it away. Maybe he forgot, or maybe he simply couldn’t bring himself to.He sat down in front of my gravestone and placed the white chrysanthemums carefully beside it.“The weather is nice today,” he said softly. “Better than yesterday and the day before. I sat in the cathedral for the whole afternoon and then went to the Mexican restaurant for dinner. The owner isn’t there anymore. It’s someone new now. The risotto isn’t as good as yours. I only took two bites before I stopped eating.”From his pocket, he took out a diary. The edges were worn from being turned too many times. He opened it to the first page.“Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world. No matter who I forget, I must never forget Vinc

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 19

    It was April, and spring had finally sprung in New York. In Queens Cemetery, the grass had begun to turn green again. A few unnamed wildflowers had grown beside my gravestone, as if they had decided to stay where I once was.Vincent came every afternoon. Sometimes, he brought a book; sometimes, he brought nothing at all, but he would sit by the gravestone for hours. John would sometimes follow him, standing far away at the cemetery gate. From there, he watched Vincent’s silhouette. The man who once made New York’s underworld tremble now spent his days sitting in front of a grave, quietly letting an afternoon pass him by. Sometimes, Vincent would speak to the gravestone. Other times, he just sat in silence, like two stones facing each other.One day, after returning from the cemetery, Vincent called John into the study.“John. Do something for me.”“Whatever you need.”“Sort out all my assets. Everything.”Taken aback, John asked, “Everything?”“Everything. Family shares, real es

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 18

    Today was March 11th, and it had been nearly three months since I jumped from the top of the Empire State Building. Vincent went alone to Rockefeller Center. The observatory telescope was still there. He dropped in a coin but didn’t look through it. Instead, he stood on the viewing platform outside for a long time.Today was the day we first looked at the stars together. Back then, I was twenty-four, working as a waitress in that Mexican restaurant, while he was twenty-five, heir to the Medici family. He made up the name of a star to fool me, yet I believed him with my bright smile. Every March 11th after that, I came here. No matter whether I remembered the way or even remembered the star’s position, I always came.Vincent took my diary out of his pocket and turned to the last page of the day I had come.“March 11th. Rockefeller Center. Today, I didn’t see the star. The clouds in New York were too thick, but it’s okay. I remember what Vincent said. That star is called Christine, an

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 17

    In mid-January, Vincent received an email from Mount Sinai Hospital. The sender was Dr. Harrison.“Mr. Vincent, while organizing Miss Christine’s records, I found a video she recorded last year. I had suggested she make it at the time to document the progression of her condition. She stored it in the hospital system and instructed me to deliver it to you after her passing. The video file is attached—Harrison.”The attachment was large. It took Vincent a full ten minutes to download. He sat in his study, the curtains drawn tightly shut. The computer screen was the only source of light in the room.The video began. I was sitting in Dr. Harrison’s office. I wore a gray sweater, my hair tied back, revealing a thin, almost fragile face. My gaze was slightly unfocused, but I was trying my best to look into the camera.“Today is… wait. Let me ask. Dr. Harrison, what’s the date today?”Off camera, Dr. Harrison said, “March 11th.”“March 11th,” I repeated and suddenly smiled. “Today is Ma

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 16

    On December 25, Christmas Day, New York had its first snowfall of the winter. Vincent went alone to the Queens Cemetery. A thin layer of snow had settled on my gravestone. He gently brushed it away and placed a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of it.On the stone was engraved that same sentence, “Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world.”He crouched down and traced the carved letters with his fingers.“It’s Christmas today,” he said softly. “You used to love Christmas. Every year, you’d hang lights all over the apartment. I used to say, what’s the point of decorating a two-hundred-square-foot place like that, but you said the bigger, the better. It was so that when I came back, I could see it from far away. Then, I came back, but your lights weren’t on anymore.”The snow grew heavier, falling on his hair and shoulders. He didn’t have an umbrella. He just stayed there, crouched in front of the grave.After a long while, footsteps came from behind him. John

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 15

    After Elena left, Vincent stayed in the Mexican restaurant for a long time. The owner eventually came over and asked if he wanted anything else. Vincent simply shook his head, left a few bills on the table, and stood up to leave.Outside, New York’s night wind hit him along with flashes of neon light. The streets were crowded, but no one paid attention to the man in the black shirt walking through them. He walked slowly, almost aimlessly, until he found himself at the Brooklyn Bridge. Cars streamed across it nonstop, their headlights shining. On the pedestrian walkway, joggers passed by, and couples stopped occasionally to take photos.Vincent walked to the middle of the bridge, the exact spot where I had once crouched down. He crouched there now, resting his hands on his knees, just like I had done that day. From that angle, the Brooklyn skyline flickered in and out of the night. I had written about this place in my diary.“Today I crouched down on the Brooklyn Bridge for a long ti

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