Chapter 3

Matteo looked grim.

I hung up and kept my voice steady. "Wedding security. The Rossetti family has been moving a lot of men along the coast lately. I don't want our enemies finding a way in."

His brow eased, but the tension never left his face.

"About the ring... You shouldn't have treated Chloe like that."

The sound of breaking glass downstairs cut him off.

Chloe's bodyguard ran up the stairs. "Don, Ms. Serra can't breathe. Her hands and feet are ice cold, and she can't speak."

Matteo's face tightened.

I grabbed him with one hand and pressed the other to my throbbing lower back. Fragments from the bullet I'd taken for him were still lodged there. Every now and then, they made the old wound flare up.

"Help me." I pressed my lips together. It hurt too much to say anything else.

"Celia?" Suspicion crossed Matteo's face.

His brow knitted tight, and he let out a weary sigh.

"Even if you're upset about the ring, you don't need to pull a cheap stunt to compete with Chloe," he said quietly, looking down at me. "I'm going to check on her first."

A stunt?

He actually thinks I'm faking it?

"Matteo," I called after him. I couldn't tell whether I was begging him to stay or just furious.

He only glanced back, his expression unreadable. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Then he snapped at the guard outside the door, "Call the doctor. Let me know if it's serious."

I watched him walk away, my chest heavy.

He'd always done this: left me behind and rushed off to help Chloe.

"Celia, she's the face of the Serra family. Taking care of her is taking care of the family. And you."

Every time, he'd explain it like that, looking exhausted. "You're the one I love most."

So I always gave in.

But today, it struck me as almost funny. If I never came first, how could I be the one he loved most?

I stopped waiting for the doctor, who still hadn't shown up. I took the first-aid kit and gauze from the hidden compartment and fumbled to clean the wound on my lower back myself.

Blood was already seeping out around it.

The guard at the door asked carefully, "Should I... call the Don back?"

I gave a bitter smile. "Don't bother. He's not coming back."

Matteo insisted on coming to my dress fitting. He looked concerned. "I'm sorry. I heard your old injury really did flare up yesterday. Let me come with you..."

"Are you sure?" I cut him off and raised an eyebrow. "You won't walk out halfway through again?"

For once, he looked a little guilty. "I won't."

That was his promise.

But as I stood in front of the mirror, with Matteo fastening the last hidden hook on my dress, his phone rang.

His expression clouded over. He answered in a low voice, "I'll be right there."

After he hung up, he smoothed the veil over my shoulders.

"Something urgent came up. I can't stay. Have the driver take you home when you're done."

I gave a cold laugh. "What is it this time?"

"It's family business." He tossed the words over his shoulder and hurried out, as if disaster were about to strike.

Again.

Something always interrupted our time together.

When someone seized one of the Morandi family's docks, he'd sigh and say, "I have to deal with this right now."

When the mineral pigments Chloe wanted arrived at the docks, he'd go open the crates and inspect them himself.

Even when Uncle Enzo had a fever, he'd leave me to go check on him.

Every time, I was the one left behind.

I thought it was just one more time he'd walked out on me.

But then my phone buzzed.

Chloe texted me, "Celia, stop waiting for him."

Ten minutes later, she sent a photo.

Matteo was in the dim back seat of a car, with Chloe leaning on his shoulder. She was wearing a bright red gown, her fingers resting on his tie.

The angle made them look intimate, as if she'd taken the photo herself.

Then Chloe texted again, "He's taking me to the senator's dinner right now.

"Which do you think he'd rather have, a wife in a white veil or a woman in a red dress?"

I stood frozen, unable to speak for a long time.

So... he hadn't just walked out on me. He'd lied.

I kept staring at the photo until, finally, I reached up and took off the veil.

I left the bridal shop and went straight back to the estate. I packed only my bank cards and passport in a waterproof bag.

I threw out the pale yellow orange blossoms he'd given me, the ebony rosary, the watch engraved with his name... I threw out 12 years of promises and love.

I didn't want any of it anymore.