Shiyu
My fiancé, Orlando, was a mafia captain.
Three years ago, he got caught in a shootout, and someone tried to kill him. I took the bullet for him without thinking twice. The wound left me so weak that I spent most of my days stuck at home.
Afraid I'd get hurt again, Orlando brought in a maid named Cecilia to look after me and act as my stand-in. Whatever was meant for me, she tried it first to make sure it was safe. Little by little, she got everything before I did.
First to break in my heels. First to sleep in my wedding bed. Even the trip to Iceland I'd waited years for—she went with Orlando first, in my place.
When the accident happened at the shopping center, Orlando still carried Cecilia into the emergency stairwell first.
A falling stone column crushed my ankle. Lying in that hospital bed, I finally lost it.
Orlando only frowned at me. "Nadia, stop making a scene. Cecilia is just your stand-in. She faces the danger first so you can stay safe."
He sounded so sincere. He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. "Nadia, try to understand how hard this is for me. I can't let you get hurt again. I just can't."
That devotion of his made me give in one more time.
I never imagined that even at my own wedding—the day that mattered more to me than anything—Cecilia would wear my wedding dress before I did.
I can make do with something secondhand. But I don't want a secondhand man.