Chapter 3

The day before the wedding, a full day had passed since I was declared dead.

Isabella pestered Matteo all morning, begging to go see our new home.

Matteo frowned and refused.

“No. I promised Layla she'd be the first one I took inside.”

Isabella clung to his arm and pleaded sweetly.

“I just want to help you get everything ready. You know how picky Layla is. What if something isn't to her liking and she throws another fit?”

Matteo was quiet for a while. He had to admit Isabella had a point.

Lately, Layla had been getting harder and harder to please.

If she came back tomorrow and caused another scene, he'd have his hands full.

He stood up and grabbed his jacket.

“We're just looking. Don't touch her things.”

Isabella's face lit up.

“Don't worry. I'm just helping you make sure it's right.”

It was an estate by the sea. He had picked it out long ago as our home after the wedding.

The moment Isabella walked in and saw the huge wedding portrait hanging in the living room, jealousy flashed in her eyes.

“Take that down. Layla hasn't passed the final test yet.”

She looked away from it and smiled at Matteo.

“We can put it back up after she passes the wedding test tomorrow.”

Matteo frowned.

“The wedding portrait is one thing. The test is another.”

“I know you care about her.”

Isabella pouted.

“It's only for now. It's not like it's never going back up.”

Matteo stared at the portrait for a few seconds and didn't object again. That was as good as a yes.

Isabella clapped her hands, summoning the men. They took down the frame, and she shoved it into a cardboard box in the corner.

Then she turned and opened the closet in the main bedroom.

Inside hung the lace veil my mother had sewn for me.

When I tried it on, she held my hand.

“Wear this on your wedding day, sweetheart. I know you'll have a lifetime of happiness.”

But she never lived to see my wedding.

Isabella pulled the veil out and wrinkled her nose.

“This is so cheap. It's nowhere near good enough for the future Don.”

Matteo's voice hardened. “Layla's mother made that. Put it back.”

The smile vanished from Isabella's face. She pouted and turned away.

“I've been running all over the place for your wedding, and Layla hasn't even shown her face once. I touch one thing of hers, and you yell at me?”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears, as though he'd deeply wronged her.

Matteo was quiet for a few seconds, and then his voice softened. “Just put it away for now. Don't let her see it.”

Only then did Isabella smile, satisfied. She balled up the veil and tossed it into the box.

At the very bottom of the box was the only photo of my parents together.

Isabella said everyone in that picture was dead anyway and told the maids to take it away too.

Matteo stood by without saying a word.

Before long, Isabella had the wedding planning team come over.

Then Matteo's phone rang. It was the hospital.

He glanced at the number and hung up.

The head wedding planner greeted Matteo and opened his laptop. “Mr. Ferrara, we've put together a highlight reel of the test for tomorrow's ceremony, along with Ms. Isabella's second test. Would you like to take a look?”

The screen lit up.

The footage showed me perched precariously over the railing at the dock, seconds away from falling.

The next second, Matteo stepped out of the armored car.

Off camera, Isabella was laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight.

“Matteo, Layla loves you enough to die for you.”

As she laughed, a line of text appeared on the screen.

“Only those who pass the test deserve a place by his side.”

Applause broke out around the room.

“Ms. Marino's going to cry when she sees this.

“How romantic! Ms. Marino must be madly in love with Mr. Ferrara.”

Matteo's eyes stayed fixed on the frozen frame.

It was a long time before he finally said, “Cut that part.

“And the part afterward where she collapses. Leave it out of tomorrow's version.”

The planner hesitated.

“But that's the most emotional part...”

“I said cut it.”

Matteo looked up at him.

“I decide what gets shown at my wedding. Argue with me again, and you'll find yourself staring down the barrel of my gun.”

Isabella walked into my walk-in closet and casually tore open the wedding gift I had prepared for Matteo.

The box was full of keepsakes from all our years together.

On top was a spent shell casing from the first mission we'd worked together, when Matteo had taken a bullet for me.

It was the token that marked the beginning of our relationship.

Isabella picked it up, looked at it, and snorted. “You kept this piece of junk?”

Matteo snatched the casing from her. “Don't touch that,” he snapped.

Isabella teared up at once.

“I was just looking for stuff to put in the video. Why are you yelling at me?”

Matteo looked at her for a few seconds, then finally let go of it.

Isabella smiled. Then she picked up the photo taken when the three of us first met and blacked out my face with a pen.

“Oh, and I've already planned round two of the test for tomorrow.”

The hospital called again.

Matteo didn't even look. He just blocked the number.

Isabella leaned in. “The hospital again?”

Matteo grunted and opened our text thread.

The last message was still that one reply of mine. “Okay.”

Isabella saw it too and gave a cold laugh. “She already said she's coming to the wedding. She's only causing this drama so you'll comfort her.

“She's going to be the Donna. If she keeps acting like a spoiled brat, the other families will make a laughingstock of us.”

The men carried the boxes out the door, and a corner of that veil trailed across the muddy lawn.

Isabella rested her head on Matteo's shoulder.

“If she's still mad tomorrow, we'll move on to round two and call off the wedding in front of everyone!

“How about that? Then she won't dare make a fuss with you again.”

Matteo looked at the half-empty wall and frowned.

“Don't go too far. Layla will take it seriously.”

Isabella smiled. “She can't bear to leave you, let alone die.”

Matteo seemed pleased with that, and a smile returned to his face.

He picked up his phone and sent me a text.

“Don't be late to the wedding tomorrow.”

It showed as delivered.

Only this time, no reply would ever come.