Chapter 4

On the day of the wedding, I didn't show up.

Before Matteo left for the church, he called me for the first time that day. It went straight to voicemail.

Even when the wedding motorcade pulled up outside the church, there was still no answer from me.

When Matteo's mother got out of the car, she was already scowling.

“I knew he shouldn't marry a woman from some no-name family. A girl from a proper family would never be late to her own wedding and keep us all waiting.

“Who does she think she is? Matteo, call off the wedding right now!”

Isabella, wearing a copy of my wedding dress with that diamond tiara on her head, came over and slipped her arm through Giulia's.

“Donna, please don't be upset. Layla would never give up her chance to become the next Donna.

“She's just sulking, waiting for Matteo to come and make it up to her.”

Matteo gripped his phone. On the screen were more than a dozen messages he'd sent, all unanswered.

Anger flared in him.

“She promised she'd come, and she's making everyone wait.”

By then, the whole family had arrived. The priest approached Matteo for the third time and quietly asked when the bride would arrive.

Matteo had run out of patience. He looked down and sent me one last text.

“The wedding starts at noon. If you're not here, you can forget about ever becoming the Donna.”

Isabella grabbed his phone and sent me a voice message.

“Layla, quit playing games. If you miss your own wedding, Matteo won't give you another chance.”

The voice message went out, and still I didn't reply.

Isabella cheered, “Let round two begin!”

Quiet, knowing laughter rippled through the guests. They all knew this was a setup.

They'd seen this game too many times.

Isabella had always loved testing me, and Matteo had never really stopped her.

The men guarding the entrance locked the doors.

A huge screen descended. Giant letters across it read, “Engagement Canceled.”

Isabella stood at Matteo's side, smiling like she'd already won.

She was sure I would rush in, frantic, and beg Matteo not to leave me.

But even when the wedding bells rang, no one came to tell Matteo where I was.

Matteo's face darkened. The air around him felt heavy with anger.

“She actually had the nerve not to come.”

Isabella hooked her arm through his.

“The ceremony's already started. Why don't I take her place at the altar? We can't keep everyone waiting.”

As she said it, she was already lifting her skirt and heading toward the priest.

At the same time, the big screen switched to photos of little moments from their everyday life together.

Isabella straightening Matteo's bow tie. Matteo putting his jacket around her shoulders...

Next to the photos was a caption. “Always by your side. No tests required.”

The guests began cheering them on.

“Isabella and Matteo really are perfect together.”

“If Layla doesn't hurry up, she's going to lose her groom to another woman.”

Matteo looked up at the screen, his expression darkening. He turned sharply toward the control booth.

“Who told you to play that? Turn it off.”

Isabella immediately looked at him, wounded.

“Why? I worked so hard on this.”

“Turn it off!”

Matteo's voice left no room for argument. “Layla won't like it. Today is her wedding.”

Then Matteo turned back and kept his eyes on the entrance.

The next second, the doors swung open.

Matteo strode toward them at once.

But it was Luca Bassi and two security guards from the family hospital.

Matteo recognized Luca.

Three days earlier, Luca had helped me investigate Matteo's supposed disappearance at sea.

A hush fell over the church.

Luca walked up to Matteo. “Mr. Ferrara, the family's private hospital has been trying to reach you since last night.”

Matteo's hands clenched into fists, and his jaw tightened.

“She still hasn't had enough? She's even got you playing along now?

“Tell Layla I'm giving her one last chance.

“If she shows up right now, the wedding goes on.”

Luca didn't answer.

He held up a clear evidence bag.

Inside was a photo of me in my bloodstained wedding dress.

The dress still bore the monogram Matteo had designed for the two of us.

The anger on Matteo's face turned to confusion, then fear.

But Isabella laughed.

“Anyone can fake a pale face with makeup. That blood could just be paint. The whole thing looks staged to me.

“Who knows, maybe she's copying Matteo and faking her death to make him feel guilty.”

“Where's Layla?”

Matteo stared at the photo.

“Tell her to come here herself.”

Luca studied him for a moment before speaking quietly. “Ms. Marino passed away at 2:17 a.m. two nights ago. We couldn't save her.”