Chapter 2

The Donatelli's family seal was pressed onto the black cardstock, and my name and Raffaello's were printed side by side in the very center.

I had personally checked the guest list. In it were my friends from college and also the subordinates who had grown close to me over the years. The numbers were small, only enough for two tables.

I was just putting the invitations into envelopes when Camilla walked in. She picked one up and looked at it.

"It's really beautiful. Can I have some?"

My gaze traveled over her face. "Who are you going to invite?"

"Friends from the foundation."

Camilla ran a children's charity foundation in the city, and the Donatelli family made a large donation on her behalf every year.

"They've always wanted to meet Raffaello," she said, putting the invitation back on the table. "But it's okay. I was just asking."

Half an hour later, Raffaello entered the study.

"Cut one of the two tables for your friends," he said, placing a new guest list in front of me. "Camilla wants to invite a few of her friends."

I looked at the list, finding it amusing. "But this is our wedding."

"I know." Raffaello leaned against the desk. "It's just a few more people. Besides, you can see your friends anytime."

I turned to the second page and found that the program had also been changed.

Originally, Raffaello and I were supposed to give a speech before the dinner began. But now that had been crossed out and replaced with a 15-minute presentation by Camilla on her foundation.

I looked up at Raffaello. "Was it you who changed this too?"

"Yeah," he replied without hesitation. "The press will be there too. I've already had someone prepare the projector and the donation segment."

Camilla was standing outside the door and happened to overhear our conversation. She immediately walked in and said, "Raffaello, I just wanted the foundation to get a bit more exposure. Why did you go and change the whole wedding program?"

She then turned to me. "Dafne, please don't get this the wrong way. I swear I'm not trying to steal your thunder."

I looked at her, unusually calm. "Okay."

Camilla was taken aback for a moment, and Raffaello also looked at me with a conflicted expression for a few seconds.

Maybe because I'd agreed too quickly, Raffaello reached out and stroked my cheek instead.

"After the wedding, I'll take you to Southern Mereworth for our honeymoon. It'll be just the two of us then."

I didn't remind him that I had already canceled those two plane tickets last night.

In the afternoon, I went to inspect the wedding motorcade.

Marco handed me the route map.

The lead car, Car A, had already been reassigned to Camilla's name. Meanwhile, I was placed in Car B, with a different route.

Car A would take one of the main roads under the Donatelli family's tightest control. To avoid traffic, my car would have to detour through the old port district.

"Signora Dafne, if you're not okay with this, I can go talk to Don Donatelli," Marco said, looking a little embarrassed.

"No, it's fine." I closed the route map. "Just do as he says."

Marco gave me a look and didn't ask anything further.

When I got back to the estate, Camilla was trying on the dress she would wear on the day of the wedding. It was a silver gown paired with pearl earrings.

She gave a little spin in front of the mirror and asked, "How do I look?"

Mamma praised her profusely.

Raffaello was sitting on the couch taking a phone call. He glanced up, then said, "You need to take it in a bit more at the waist."

Camilla laughed. "Since when do you know anything about women's gowns?"

"I've been to a few of Dafne's fittings." Only after saying that did he remember me.

"Is your gown ready yet?" he asked me.

Before I could answer, Mamma frowned and said, "She's the bride—would she be short of gowns? Camilla, on the other hand, rarely gets to attend such a big occasion, so of course she needs to be properly prepared."

The seamstress crouched down to adjust Camilla's hem.

I stood watching from the doorway for a while. No one asked about my wedding gown again, nor did anyone know that this morning I had already told the bridal shop to stop the alterations.

After all, I wouldn't be wearing the wedding gown in five days.

That night, I went back to my room and packed my passport, cash, and a few documents into a duffel bag.

My phone buzzed with a message from Diego.

"Come to San Giorgio's Pier in the north at 11:00 am five days from now. That place isn't under the Donatelli family's control."

After I sent my reply, I heard Camilla laughing out in the hallway.

Raffaello was teaching her how to use the private elevator on the wedding day.

I zipped up my duffel bag.

There were still five days to go.