Chapter 3

Elena's POV

One evening, I find a fire pit in the backyard and start burning things.

Replicas of his medals, birthday photo albums, diaries. Everything that proved I once loved him turns to ash in the flames.

"What are you doing?" Dante's voice cuts through from behind me, angry.

I don't turn around. "Throwing out trash."

He walks over, his expression darkening instantly. "What are you trying to pull now? Burning stuff to get my attention?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Isn't this what you told me to do? Didn't you say 'clear out all that stuff'?"

That shuts him up.

I turn to face him. "I'm just doing what you asked."

He looks away, his tone cold. "Three days from now. The wedding. You'll be there, right?"

"Congratulations."

"Also, she wants you to help plan it. You know what I like better than anyone."

A painful laugh escapes me. "You're serious? You want me to plan your wedding to her?"

"She thought it would help you—"

"Stop." I cut him off. "I'm not doing it. If this is how you want to humiliate me, congratulations. Mission accomplished."

I walk past him toward the manor, leaving him standing there.

The next morning, I'm at an antique shop downtown picking out cufflinks.

They're a gift for my future husband. Catherine said his family appreciates antiques.

My phone starts buzzing like crazy.

My roommate calls. "Elena! Check online! There are photos of you and your brother—"

My stomach drops. I open social media.

Top trending: #Mafia Family Forbidden Romance#

I click. Several carefully edited photos. Me disheveled, leaning against Dante, his hand on my waist, dim lighting.

The caption is vicious: "Mafia heiress obsessively pursues stepbrother, stoops to dirty tricks. Poor fiancée still in the dark..."

The comments are already exploding. Insults and personal attacks everywhere.

But I never did anything like this with Dante, let alone got photographed doing it. Someone photoshopped these.

My roommate says, "This has to be a setup! Get back there and explain!"

"Got it."

I hang up, pay, and take a car back to the manor.

The moment I walk through the door, Dante's standing at the staircase, furious.

"You actually came back?"

I'm out of breath. "Those photos aren't real. Someone photoshopped them—"

"I know!" He cuts me off, disgust filling his eyes. "And you still say you don't want me? You'd actually photoshop pictures?"

"What? I didn't do it!"

"I don't need to investigate." His voice is ice. "You're in those photos. You're the one who benefits. Who else could it be?"

I can't speak. He won't even consider looking into it.

"Elena..."

Vivian comes down the stairs, eyes red.

She looks at me, voice breaking. "So if you can't have him, you'll do this?"

"I know he only loves me, that's why you hate me so much..." She covers her face, crying. "But I never thought you'd go this far..."

She looks up at Dante. "If that's what it takes... then fine. I'll give him back to you. Just stop doing this. I can give up anything..."

She makes a show of heading for the door.

Dante immediately pulls her back. "Don't be ridiculous."

He turns to me. "Apologize to her."

"You want me to apologize?"

"Shouldn't you?"

I look at him, feeling a deep, crushing sadness.

Of course I don't want to. But I'm leaving soon anyway. Might as well keep the peace.

I take a deep breath and walk toward Vivian. "I'm sorry."

Vivian's face immediately softens into forgiveness. She opens her arms. "I'm glad you understand..."

As she gets close, she suddenly leans to my ear, voice so low only we can hear. "I had someone photoshop those pictures."

My body goes rigid.

"But he wouldn't even check. He just believed it was you." Her voice carries satisfaction. "Why are you still here?"

I shove her away, staring at her in shock.

Her eyes hold cold mockery, though tears still cling to her face.

"Still don't believe me?" Vivian leans in again. "Then let's see who he chooses."

The moment the words leave her mouth, she suddenly pushes hard at my shoulder.

Behind me are the stairs.

At the exact same moment, she screams, "Ah!" and stumbles toward the stairs herself.

I see Dante's eyes widen. His hand reaches toward me first—but then he spins around and pulls Vivian into his arms.

I tumble down the stairs.

Something cracks. Pain tears through me.

"Oh my god... she pushed me..." Vivian cowers in Dante's arms, trembling. "I forgave her... and she tried to push me down the stairs..."

Dante looks down at me lying at the bottom. "Stay down there and think about what you did!"

I try to speak, but the pain won't let me.

Everything's going dark.

Before I pass out, I only have one thought: in the end, he still chose her.

When I wake up, I'm in bed. My wounds have been treated.

Dante's sitting beside the bed, looking exhausted.

"She's already asleep." He speaks first. "Stop going after her. She's going to be your sister-in-law soon."

I don't want to talk. "Okay."

He's quiet for a long time. "The doctor patched you up. The Morettis will come for you in a few days."

"Don't worry. I already talked to them. They won't really hurt you. I'll come get you as soon as the wedding's over."

"After all... I promised your parents. Even after I marry her, I'll still look after you."

He pauses. "Just leave her alone."

I close my eyes.

Silently answering in my head: you won't get the chance to come get me.

Because I'm never coming back.