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My Groom Chose Her Over Our Wedding
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
"Salvatore… that marriage you once wanted me to have — is it still on the table? If yes, then pick me up by next week. I'll agree to that wedding. Because for the second time, he postponed ours…...
Chương (5)
第1章
"Salvatore… that marriage you wanted me to have back then… is it still on the table?" My voice was hoarse, trembling, but I pressed on. "If yes, then pick me up by next week. I'm agreeing to that wedding."
There was silence at first, then his voice, confused, even alarmed. "Serafina? What are you talking about? Isn't today your ceremony with Domenico? I'm sorry for not coming because I was busy, but what happened? Why are you suddenly saying this?"
My chest rose and fell as I struggled to keep steady. "Because for the second time, he postponed our wedding ceremony… for Ginevra. So I'm done."
I heaved. "He's never gonna choose me again, so please, see me by next week, Salvatore. I'll do everything you want me to do if you pick me up from this misery."
Before he could respond, I ended the call. The weight of those words clung to me like lead, but there was also a strange kind of release, like finally cutting free from chains I had worn for too long.
I lowered the phone slowly, my hand trembling as I clutched the lace of my gown. Around me, the garden lights of the Valente compound still twinkled, strung across the old pergola like stars. The roses and lilies we had chosen together lined the stone path, their fragrance heavy in the night air. Tables set with the Family's best silver held food no one touched, champagne glasses half-empty.
And yet… there was no groom.
My wedding had become nothing but a spectacle of pity.
One by one, the guests approached me with hushed voices, their eyes heavy with sympathy. Capos' wives. Old associates. People who had watched me grow up inside this family and knew exactly what it meant that the heir had not shown.
"I'm so sorry, Serafina."
"You don't deserve this."
"He'll come around, don't worry."
Each word was like salt in an open wound. I stood there in my gown, the gown I had dreamed of since I was a girl, its white silk trailing across the grass, now stained by tears I tried to hide. My fingers found the hollow of my throat where my saint's medallion used to hang, pressing against bare skin, the old habit rising before I could stop it.
Domenico didn't come.
When I finally called him, desperate for an explanation, his voice was maddeningly calm, as though he had no idea what I was standing in the middle of.
"Babe, I'm sorry," he said. "Ginevra's burning with fever. I couldn't just leave her. We can just… do this again, okay? Next week. Or maybe skip the ceremony and just register the union. It's the same thing anyway."
Ginevra.
The name was enough to make my chest ache with bitterness. I closed my eyes, my hands tightening around the phone until my knuckles turned white. For twenty years, Domenico and I had been the blood-promised pair. Everyone in both Families knew it. Everyone expected the union once we turned twenty-five. It was supposed to be fate. Our destiny, sealed the night our fathers shook hands over wine when we were still children.
And it almost happened.
A year ago, the ceremony was already planned. I had my gown, my vows, my entire life laid out in front of me. But then Domenico took that cursed trip to Naples. The ambush on the water left him broken, missing for months. When he finally came back, he wasn't alone.
He came back with Ginevra, the woman who had pulled him from the wreckage, who had hidden him and nursed him while he recovered in a safehouse along the coast. And because of that, his family insisted she stay. The code demanded it. A life-debt had been incurred, and the Valente name did not leave debts unpaid.
Domenico promised her happiness.
At first, I agreed. I felt indebted too. Without Ginevra, Domenico might not even be alive. I told myself it was fine, that she would stay with us for a while, then leave once the debt was honored. But things never settled.
Because Domenico's loyalty shifted. It was no longer about us, about our future. It was about her. Ginevra.
When our ceremony was postponed the first time, I forgave him. I told myself love was patient. That I could understand. But now? Now it had been ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine excuses. Ninety-nine moments where he chose her over me.
And I realized. I wasn't his priority anymore.
I wasn't his choice.
The estate manager's voice broke my spiraling thoughts. "Miss Serafina… what about the food? Everything's been prepared for the guests."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Donate it," I said coldly, my voice sharper than I intended. "Give it to anyone who needs it. I don't care."
I grabbed my bag, my heels clicking against the stone courtyard as I walked out without looking back. Somewhere behind me, the compound's soldiers watched in silence. None of them moved to stop me. Even they understood.
The car ride home was quiet, but my chest wasn't. It burned with every memory, every broken promise. The house loomed in the distance, the one Domenico had given me as our supposed future home. A symbol of love, of promises of forever. But to me, it was nothing but an empty shell. Another piece of property in the Valente holdings, dressed up to look like devotion.
Inside, I moved quickly, almost frantically. My room became chaotic as I pulled open drawers, gathered everything Domenico and his family had given me. Diamonds, gold, letters, keepsakes, all the tokens of a love that had rotted from the inside. I stuffed them into a box, my hands trembling but determined.
The door creaked.
I turned sharply. Domenico was there, climbing the stairs, his expression caught somewhere between guilt and relief, as if his absence at our wedding was nothing more than a minor mistake. He still wore the dark suit he'd left in hours ago, the collar loosened, as though he had simply been delayed at a sit-down rather than standing up his blood-promised bride.
"Babe…" His voice softened as he stepped closer, arms opening like he could erase everything with one embrace. He pulled me into him before I could step back, his breath warm against my ear. "I'm sorry, for not coming, for letting you stand there alone. I regret it, I really do. But Ginevra was sick, and I couldn't just leave her. You understand, right?"
I pushed against his chest, my gown rustling as I tore myself from his hold. My eyes burned with fury, my voice trembling as it rose.
"That's your excuse? Domenico, this wasn't some dinner you postponed. It was our wedding. Our wedding!"
Domenico's jaw tightened, but he still tried to reach for me again, his voice low, coaxing, as though logic could make up for betrayal.
"Babe, listen to me. A ceremony is just for show. It's not what really matters. What's important is that we love each other, that we're already committed. We can sign the papers anytime, tomorrow even. The guests will forget, the families will understand… but Ginevra needed me."
My fury boiled over. I grabbed the ring he had given me, the diamonds that once sparkled with promise, and threw it at him. The sound of metal hitting the marble floor echoed like thunder through the quiet house.
And then I shoved the box into his chest. "Take it. Take everything back."
He froze, stunned. "Serafina, what are you—"
"There is no wedding!" My voice cracked, raw from the weight of my broken heart. "Because I'm breaking off the blood-promise!"
第2章
"There is no wedding!" My voice cracked, raw from the weight of my broken heart. "Because I'm breaking off the engagement!"
For a moment, silence swallowed the room. Domenico blinked at me, stunned, as if my words had come from a stranger. His lips parted, then curved into something that wasn't remorse but disbelief.
"You're being dramatic again." He actually laughed. Laughed. Like my pain was nothing more than another one of my moods. "Come on, Serafina. You can't leave me like that. You love me too much."
His arrogance was a slap harder than any hand could deliver.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my chest heaving. "I can. And I will. Just wait and see."
I wanted him to fight me. To beg. To tell me I was wrong and pull me into his arms the way he always used to. But instead, Domenico only shrugged, turning away like this was nothing more than an inconvenience.
"Go to sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.
Before I could scream at him, a soft voice floated from the hallway. "Domenico? Serafina? Are you fighting… because of me?"
Ginevra. She stood at the threshold in her silk robe, her hair tousled as if she had just rolled out of our bed. Her face was pale, her hands clasped tightly together. She looked fragile, like porcelain about to crack.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "The ceremony was postponed. It's my fault. I was sick, and I feel so bad. Please don't blame Domenico. You can always do it again."
Something inside me snapped.
"Don't be sorry," I spat, my voice trembling with rage. "Be honest. You wanted this. You wanted him. And now you have him. So congratulations."
"Serafina!" Domenico's voice thundered. His eyes narrowed with fury. "What is your attitude? Can't you see she's sick? Why are you picking a fight?"
Ginevra shook her head quickly, stepping forward, her eyes glistening. "Please… don't think badly of me. I never wanted to come between you two. I just want to apologize."
Her hand reached for mine. Soft, hesitant. Pretending to be kind.
I slapped it away.
The crack echoed through the hall. Ginevra gasped, stumbling back, her eyes wide. Domenico froze, his mouth open in shock. Somewhere deeper in the compound, I heard the faint shuffle of a soldier's boots stopping short on marble, then retreating. Even the household knew when to disappear.
Before either of them could speak, I spun around, stormed into my room, and locked the door behind me.
"Serafina!" Domenico's fists pounded against the wood. "Open the door! Don't make me punish you. Do you hear me?"
I pressed my back against the door, tears streaming down my cheeks. My fingers found the hollow of my throat, pressing against the bare skin where my saint's medallion used to rest. Nothing there. Just the hammering of my own pulse.
Through the wood, Ginevra's voice drifted, trembling but cruel underneath. "She deserves it, Domenico. Don't let her treat me this way. Don't let her ruin you."
Her words cut me deeper than the slap I had given her.
"Don't worry, I'll punish her tomorrow. For now, you should rest." And they were gone.
All I could do was cry. Back then, when I was angry with Domenico, he would do anything to win me back. He once stood outside the gates of the Ferraro house in the pouring rain with roses until I forgave him, two of his soldiers holding an umbrella behind him that he refused to stand under. When I ignored his calls after our first real fight, he wrote me letters every day, sliding them under my door until I laughed through my tears. He never let me cry alone.
But now? Now he let me cry on the other side of a locked door, while Ginevra whispered poison into his ear.
The tears wouldn't stop. My chest heaved as sobs shook me, but the sound of laughter outside, hers, his, was worse.
And then the moaning started.
I pressed my hands to my ears, but it didn't matter. Their voices seeped through the cracks, sharp reminders that I was no longer chosen, no longer wanted. Eventually, exhaustion dragged me into restless sleep, my pillow wet with tears.
The next morning, sunlight pierced my swollen eyes as the door burst open. Domenico stood there, towering over me, his expression thunderous. The silver lighter was still in his hand, motionless, his thumb resting flat on the cap.
"Get up." His voice was sharp, unyielding. He yanked the blankets off me.
I blinked, disoriented. "What—"
"Did you reflect on what you did last night?" His tone was ice. "Apologize to her now."
I pushed myself up slowly, my voice raw. "No. I won't. I did nothing wrong. She's the one who ruined me… ruined us."
Domenico's glare darkened. "Do you hear yourself? She saved me, Serafina. Without her, I wouldn't even be alive. Can't you be grateful for once?"
My lips trembled. "I was grateful. But not anymore."
I tried to walk past him, but his grip clamped down on my wrist. And then the sting came.
His hand struck my cheek, the sound deafening in the silence.
"That's for slapping her." His words dripped with venom. "Now get dressed. We're going out."
I gasped, clutching my face. "Why would I go anywhere with you?"
"Because Ginevra wants to eat out. And she wants you to come. She's trying to make this work. So be a good girl, Serafina. If you want to marry me, you'll have to live with her. That's how it is. Fix your attitude, or there really won't be a wedding."
His words stole the breath from my lungs. My heart twisted, but I was dragged into the car minutes later.
Domenico drove. No soldiers in the follow car, no escort. Just us and the casual cruelty of a man who had nothing to fear on his own streets. Ginevra sat beside him in the passenger seat, their laughter filling the air like poison. And me? I sat in the back, invisible. Forgotten.
By the time we reached the restaurant, one of the Family-owned places on the waterfront where the staff knew better than to seat anyone near the Don's table, the sky had turned gray. Snowflakes drifted down, swirling in the bitter wind. The ground was slick, the air sharp.
We stepped into the parking lot, crossing toward the glowing lights of the restaurant. My heels clicked against the icy asphalt, my arms wrapped around myself for warmth.
Then it happened.
A truck barreled down the street, its horn blaring, tires skidding against the snow. The world blurred into chaos: screams, flashing lights, pounding footsteps.
I stood frozen at the crosswalk, the headlights blinding me. My body refused to move, my mind blank with terror.
Domenico ran.
But not to me.
He lunged for Ginevra, pulling her into his arms, shielding her with his body as though she were the only one that mattered.
And me?
I was left standing alone.
The impact came like thunder. Pain exploded through every nerve, ripping the breath from my lungs. The world shattered into white snow, red lights, and screaming voices.
And then, darkness.
第3章
By some miracle, I was alive.
When my eyes first fluttered open, the sterile white of the hospital ceiling greeted me, and the steady beeping of machines tethered me to reality. Pain laced through every inch of my body, sharp yet numbed by medication.
I shouldn't have survived. The nurse said as much.
"It's a miracle you're even here," she whispered, adjusting the IV. "You'll have scars, and the impact was dangerous… but you're stable enough to be discharged tomorrow."
I nodded faintly, unable to find words.
But inside, I was breaking.
Because as I lay there, the memory of another fall came rushing back. Years ago, during the summer the Family kept a safehouse on the Amalfi cliffs. I had slipped near the edge, loose rock giving way under my sandals. I could still remember the terror, the wind tearing through my screams. And Domenico hadn't stopped until he found me. He climbed down himself, his hands bloodied against the stone, his arms shaking as he pulled me back up. He never once let go.
That was the Domenico I loved.
But now? I had stood in the middle of that street, frozen and terrified. And he hadn't even looked at me. His arms, his protection, his love — all of it had gone to Ginevra.
I was disregarded.
Disposable.
That night, I stayed alone in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as snow continued to fall outside the window. Domenico never came. Not even once. My phone buzzed at midnight, and I snatched it up desperately — only to feel my heart sink.
Domenico: Ginevra was in shock from almost being hit. She needs me tonight. Stay strong.
Stay strong. As if that was all my pain amounted to.
A second message arrived later — from Donatella, his mother.
Donatella: Serafina, tomorrow's my birthday. Come please. I miss you, my daughter.
For a moment, I wanted to refuse. To curl up and disappear. But Donatella… she was the one who had been there after my parents were killed. When my father, one of the Ferraro capos, was gunned down and my mother followed him three days later from the grief and the bullet fragment the surgeons missed, it was Donatella who took me in. She managed the Ferraro holdings that would have been mine, kept them safe until I could stand on my own. She was more of a mother to me than anyone else had ever been.
So the next day, against my better judgment, I went.
The celebration was grand, with warm lights glowing across the Valente estate. Laughter spilled from the great hall, crystal glasses chiming. Guards in dark suits stood at the perimeter, hands clasped in front of them, eyes never still. But as I lingered at the edge of the hall, unseen, I heard the voices.
"Domenico, are you insane?" Donatella's voice was sharp, cutting through the chatter. "You let her be in an accident for that woman? Serafina is your blood-promised. She's the one meant to be with you!"
Domenico's reply was firm, defensive. "But you know, Ma — Ginevra saved my life. I owe her everything. I'm just returning the favor."
My heart thudded painfully.
Donatella's voice trembled. "And Serafina? Has she not saved you too, countless times? I told you to take care of Ginevra, not replace Serafina!"
His answer sliced through me. "Maybe it's better to replace Serafina. I think Ginevra's better."
The words gutted me. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The world blurred as I backed away, my legs unsteady beneath me. My fingers found the hollow of my throat, pressing hard against the bare skin where my saint's medallion used to hang, and I held on as if the floor might open and swallow me whole.
When I finally stepped inside, I felt like a ghost. Domenico sat with Ginevra at the center table, their hands closed together, their faces glowing with comfort, while I stood like a forgotten shadow. A wallflower at my own place in this family. Soldiers and capos who had once kissed my hand now glanced past me as if I weren't there.
Donatella found me later, her expression soft, guilt swimming in her eyes. "Are you alright, my dear?"
I forced a smile. "I'm okay. Happy birthday."
Her hand lingered on my arm. "Come, sit with us at the table."
I shook my head, glancing at Ginevra draped beside Domenico. "There's no need. She's there. You don't have to make space for me."
Her eyes dimmed. Her thumbs pressed together at her waist, knuckles whitening. "I'm sorry, Serafina. It's our fault for letting that woman into your life."
I shook my head again, whispering, "No worries. I understand."
And I turned away, heading toward the bar.
The burn of alcohol slid down my throat as I sipped glass after glass, desperate to drown the ache. The chatter of guests blurred, my vision hazed. Somewhere behind me a capo was telling a story about the old days, his voice thick with grappa and nostalgia, and the sound of it was so ordinary, so warm, that it made the cold inside me worse.
Then a hand slid against my back — too low, too rough. I stiffened, turning sharply. A man leaned close, his breath laced with liquor. I didn't recognize him. Some associate brought in from another crew, someone who didn't know who I was. Or didn't care.
"Don't look so lonely, pretty," he murmured.
"Stop it," I hissed, pushing him away.
But his hand gripped tighter, pressing against my waist. Panic surged, and I shouted, my voice ringing through the hall. "He's harassing me! Someone — help!"
Heads turned. Conversations hushed. All eyes landed on me. The guards along the wall shifted but didn't move. They wouldn't. Not without a signal from the head of the table.
The man smirked, loosening his grip just enough to play innocent. "Harassing? No, no. She's drunk. She came on to me. Tried to seduce me."
Laughter rippled. Gasps followed. Whispers darted through the crowd like knives.
And Domenico? He stood on the other side of the room, watching me. Watching. And doing nothing. The silver lighter was still in his hand, but his thumb didn't move. He just looked at me the way you look at a problem that isn't yours.
Finally, he stepped forward, his eyes cold as he grabbed my arm. "Is it true?" His voice was sharp, humiliating. "Were you seducing him?"
"No!" My voice cracked with desperation. "I swear, Domenico — I wasn't —"
But the damage was done. People were staring, whispering, eyes filled with pity and disgust. Capos' wives covered their mouths. Old men who had bounced me on their knees as a child looked away. My body trembled as shame swallowed me whole.
I tore myself free, running out of the hall as tears blinded me.
"Serafina!" A voice called after me — not Domenico's. Donatella's. She caught up in the corridor, her heels clicking against the marble. "Don't go, my dear. Please. Stay. You belong here."
I shook my head, sobbing. "No. I can't. I can't be part of this family anymore. I'm breaking the blood-promise."
Her face fell, sorrow deep in her eyes. In this world, breaking a blood-promise was not a private matter. It was a wound cut into two bloodlines at once.
"Please," I whispered, clutching her hands. "If you truly care for me, don't ever tell your son that I'm leaving. Don't let him find me. Promise me."
Her lips trembled, but she nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.
And just like that, I turned away, my heart shattering one last time.
第4章
For days, my life had become nothing but packing, sorting, and stripping away every trace of a love that had already died. I had my uncle Salvatore handle the legal end of selling my properties through a chain of intermediaries who knew how to move holdings without drawing attention from the Family or the Feds. One by one, I began letting go of everything Domenico ever gave me. The cars were signed back through front companies. The jewels went into a lockbox Salvatore would liquidate. Even the house that once symbolized our future, the estate Domenico had put in my name as a blood-promise gift, I was preparing to dissolve.
Every gift that had once felt like devotion now felt like chains I wanted nothing more than to shatter.
Ginevra's belongings were gathered too. I couldn't stomach the thought of her clothes and trinkets lying around my home as if she belonged here. Some were boxed and sent to the compound. Others, I simply had thrown out. The house smelled of dust and detergent, but at least it was mine again, even if only for a short while longer.
I was wiping down the table in the living room when I heard voices. Domenico's voice, low and careless, drifting from the back terrace where he thought I couldn't hear. I froze, the cloth in my hand damp and shaking.
"Mom, I heard you, okay?" His tone was sharp, irritated. "It doesn't matter if she doesn't want to marry me. So what? I don't care. She'll surely beg for it soon, so let her be dramatic."
My chest tightened.
"Who cares? Even if she's dead, I don't think I'd care about her funeral. I regret promising her the wedding. I was wrong."
The words hit me like blades. My knees almost buckled beneath me, but I gripped the table for balance. That. Those words. That was my last straw. After everything, after twenty years of loyalty, love, sacrifice, to him, my life, my death, my very existence was meaningless. I was nothing. Less than nothing. Less than the code, less than the debt he owed Ginevra, less than the dust on the floor of the back room where he made his deals.
I dropped the rag on the table and walked straight to the door. I didn't even care if he saw me anymore.
But I didn't make it outside before Ginevra's voice screeched behind me. "What's going on here? Why are my things outside? Why are you throwing everything away?"
I turned slowly, my voice calm though my heart raged. "This is my house. I'll do as I please."
Her eyes widened, then welled up instantly with tears. Practiced tears, I thought bitterly. She looked like a child running to her protector when Domenico appeared in the doorway, his frame filling the space the way it always did. The house went quiet around him. Even the walls seemed to contract.
"What's happening here?" he demanded.
Ginevra burst into sobs, clutching his arm. "She's throwing me out!"
My face darkened. "Domenico, you gave me this house. That makes it mine, and I have every right to do whatever I want with it. If I say Ginevra has to leave, then she leaves."
His jaw tightened, his eyes blazing. "You think you can just use that against me? Don't forget who put you here in the first place. I gave you this house, Serafina. Not so you could throw your tantrums and drive out whoever I let in."
I straightened, unflinching. "This isn't a tantrum. This is me taking back what's mine. If you want her here so badly, then fine. You can both leave. I don't want either of you under my roof."
Domenico's expression darkened further, his voice a low growl. "Are you acting this way because you think my mother will back you up? You think her favor gives you power?" He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "Pathetic. Fine. Ginevra's leaving anyway. I already bought her a bigger place."
My eyes flicked to Ginevra. Her tears evaporated instantly, replaced by a sly, triumphant smile. She ran her finger along the rim of the water glass she'd been holding, a slow deliberate circle that picked up speed. "You did?" she asked sweetly, feigning surprise.
"Yes," Domenico said with finality.
Ginevra's mask slipped into a polite smile, and she turned to me. "I'm sorry for overstaying here," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. She even stepped forward and hugged me, as if I would believe her act of gratitude.
But her whisper burned against my ear: "I'm leaving with him. I won't ever let him come back to you again."
I closed my eyes briefly, then pulled back, my face unreadable. "Do as you want," I said coldly. Then I looked directly at Domenico. "Go ahead. Get married. I'm settling with another man anyway."
His laughter exploded in the room. "You? Don't joke with me, Serafina. What man would want you after knowing you've been with me for twenty years? You think anyone would accept a woman like that?"
I met his mockery with silence, though my heart thundered with pain and fury. He would never know. He would never understand the worth of the woman who had given him her youth, her loyalty, her everything.
Domenico smirked as though he'd won. "Anyway, I'll be back once I let Ginevra settle in. We'll talk then. Especially since tomorrow is our scheduled ceremony at the courthouse, so you would shut your mouth already about us not getting married."
Before I could even respond, Ginevra suddenly covered her mouth dramatically. "Domenico, I feel sick. I think I'm going to vomit."
His entire attention snapped back to her, panic flashing in his eyes. At that moment, I disappeared to him completely, just as I always did when she was near.
I turned, opened the door, and stepped outside. The air was cool, the sky already dimming into the evening. Somewhere beyond the property wall, I could hear the low idle of an enforcer's car on perimeter watch. Even the guards answered to him. Even the night answered to him. My heart was heavier than ever, but inside me, a strange clarity formed.
Enough.
There's no wedding.
Tomorrow, I will leave. Tomorrow, I will end this cycle of humiliation and betrayal once and for all.
I packed through the night, every piece of clothing folded with numb fingers, every drawer emptied with a quiet, deliberate finality. No more ceremony. No more photo albums of false promises. Each item tossed into a box felt like shedding another chain. My fingers found the hollow of my throat, pressing against the bare skin where the saint's medallion used to hang. The skin was smooth and cool. Nothing there. Nothing left.
When I finally sat down, the silence of the house pressed against me. My phone buzzed on the table. Domenico.
What do you want?
I'm coming home tonight. I'll make it up to you and the promised wedding. Tell me, Serafina. What do you want?
My lips curved into a humorless smile. What I wanted? He couldn't give me what I wanted anymore. Respect, loyalty, truth. He never could. But he would understand this one last request.
I typed slowly, each word steady, final.
Bring me a blueberry cheesecake.
第5章
Not long after, another message came in. Not Domenico this time. Donatella. His mother.
I managed to convince him to actually go through with the wedding tomorrow. Maybe that would make you stay. If not… then at least let me help you leave. For all the things my son has done, let me be the one to make it right.
I stared at the message until my vision blurred. My chest tightened, not with love, but with the cruel ache of wasted years. Donatella was trying to clean up the wreckage Domenico left behind, but it was too late.
The cake, the wedding, his sudden desperation. All nothing but ashes.
Tomorrow, I would walk away. Not just from Domenico, not just from Ginevra, not just from this compound that had been both a palace and a prison. But from the girl who once believed in promises that turned to poison.
Tomorrow, I would leave everything.
I typed back with trembling fingers.
Nothing could change my mind anymore. I'm sorry, but thank you…
For a long time after pressing send, I just sat there, staring at the screen, waiting for the impossible. Waiting for him to walk through the door, waiting for footsteps that never came. Outside, the compound was silent. The soldiers on perimeter rotation passed the window at intervals, their shadows marking the hours better than any clock.
The hours dragged. Midnight came and went. Still, no Domenico.
My phone lit up at dawn. A message from him.
Ginevra needed me. She fractured her legs while cleaning and moving things. Don't worry, tomorrow we'll see each other at the ceremony. I'll make it up to you on the honeymoon.
I didn't even realize I was laughing until I felt the burn of tears on my cheeks. Ginevra was always the reason. Always her pain, her needs, her place beside him, while I was left with promises as brittle as glass.
That afternoon, Enzio arrived at my door, holding a white box. He placed both hands flat on the table, palms down, fingers spread, before setting the box gently upon it. He bowed. "From Don Domenico, Signora."
My heart stuttered. For one foolish second, I thought maybe, just maybe, he remembered. That he had listened. That he had brought my real favorite because he remembered us. Because he remembered me.
I opened the box. The scent hit me instantly. Blueberry.
I froze. My throat tightened as the truth sank in. He hadn't remembered me at all. I had always been allergic to blueberries. It was Ginevra who loved blueberries. Ginevra who devoured it every chance she got.
I just told him in case… hoping. But I stood there, staring at it, the final nail in the coffin of our years together. That was the last straw. Whatever hope still lingered inside me shattered clean through.
My phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Domenico.
"Serafina," Salvatore's deep, steady voice came through. "Everything is ready. I'll be waiting at the airstrip. Don't be late."
I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as if to anchor myself. My fingers found the bare skin at the hollow of my throat, pressing against the place where the saint's medallion used to hang. My hands trembled, but not from fear. From resolve. The chains Domenico bound me with had finally snapped.
"Alright," I whispered into the phone, my gaze fixed on the untouched cake. "I'll be there."
The next morning, as I prepared to leave, I heard voices in the hall. Enzio again, this time whispering hurriedly into his phone.
"…Yes, Don Domenico is planning to propose to Signorina Ginevra later this evening. Everything is ready. And make sure that Signorina Serafina would never know about this. After all, the ceremony is gonna be fake."
My breath hitched, then escaped in a sharp laugh. A bitter, broken sound that echoed off the walls.
So this was it. Every promise, every vow, every touch, all lies. The ceremony, the future he painted, nothing but a performance while he gave his heart to someone else.
A hollow ache spread in my chest. Fool. That's what I'd been. Twenty years wasted on love that never existed. I should have left long before Ginevra, before betrayal carved me hollow.
But now… I wasn't broken. I was free. Once everything turns to ashes, there's nothing left to fear.
I walked out of that compound, my prison, my battlefield, my graveyard, and didn't look back.
At the gates, a voice called out. Nico, one of Domenico's old associates, the kind who had always hovered at Sunday dinners and Family gatherings, suddenly appeared, rushing toward me.
"Where are you going, Serafina? Wait, are you leaving? I thought today would be your special day with Domenico. That is why he asked me to come…" He looked stunned, laughing a beat too late, as though he couldn't quite believe I was truly leaving.
"Actually, it's his special day with Ginevra. I am marrying someone else."
His eyes widened. "You're really marrying someone else? Does Domenico know? Wait, what is happening?"
At the mention of Domenico, my smile faded. The ache in my chest threatened to crush me, but I shook my head. "No. He won't know." I glanced at the time. "It's late. I have to leave now. Tell Domenico my greetings."
I slid into the car, closed the door, and as it pulled away, the Valente compound shrank behind me.
Just as we reached the gates, another car passed ours. For the briefest moment, I saw Domenico's silhouette behind the wheel. He was gripping something small in his hand, something that gleamed faintly in the morning light. A ring box. A proposal for Ginevra, it seemed, as I would be left alone for the third time. But I refused.
I turned my head away, pressing my palm to my stomach as if to hold myself together.
He and Ginevra would never be separated again… as I finally had my freedom.