Chapter 2

Damian pulled her behind him and warned me in a low voice:

"Vivian, whether or not the bride got mixed up, the woman standing here marrying me is Lydia. She's the only one I recognize as my wife."

"The cars didn't pick up the wrong bride either. She's wearing the ring my mother gave her, so she's the one I recognize."

"You couldn't keep track of something that important, and now you come running in here saying the wrong person got picked up?"

"Blame yourself. You couldn't even hold onto a ring. Besides, we've finished the vows, and a marriage contract doesn't outrank the church. There's no way my marriage to Lydia gets undone!"

"And if you insist on being with me, the most you deserve is a cheap little mistress on the side."

His eyes held anger and wariness.

In my last life, he hated me for ten years. In this one, he wasn't even going to bother pretending—he wanted to nail her into the wife's seat today, and leave me without even a place to stand.

I looked at him and smiled.

"That ring was placed in my hand by your mother three days ago. She said it's been worn by four generations of Castelli wives, and that I had to wear it on my wedding day."

"And now you want a woman who stole it to be Mrs. Castelli, and the one your mother handpicked to be your mistress on the side?"

"Would you dare say that to your mother's face?"

Damian choked on it, his face darkening inch by inch.

"No need to threaten me with my mother. By the time she's back from Sicily, it won't change a thing."

I stopped looking at him and turned to Lydia.

"Lydia, answer me this. Why did you take my ring? You knew perfectly well Donna Aurelia put it in my hand herself."

Tears kept falling from her eyes. "I don't know… I had the veil on, I couldn't see anything clearly, I just—I just took the ring my mother left me. You never told me I'd grabbed the wrong one."

"The vows are already said. How can you call it me swapping the rings?"

I laughed out loud.

"You don't know?"

"You never sleep in my room. Last night you suddenly said you wanted to share a room and talk."

"You set that up just so you'd have an easy chance to swap my ring, didn't you?"

"My mother told you to go downstairs first. When you went to get the ring, she stepped in ahead of you and lowered my veil—so you could slip it off me without anyone noticing."

At that, my voice sank, bitter without my meaning it to.

I was her own daughter. And yet for nineteen years, when Lydia had a fever, my mother sat up all night with her; when I had a fever, I got through it alone. On Lydia's birthday, she baked a cake by hand and threw a party; on mine, she bought a gift for Lydia instead.

"Why? Ever since you came to our house, she's favored you. More than she's ever favored her own daughter."

"For you, she even wrecked my happiness, and let you take my fiancé."

"Miss Roca is telling the truth!"

My makeup artist arrived, broke free of the people holding her back, and rushed in.

"This morning there were two rings on the dressing table. One was sent by Mrs. Castelli, in a velvet box. The other belonged to Miss Valentí—an old silver ring, she said her mother left it to her, and she always wore it."

"Then Miss Roca's mother asked me to give Miss Valentí the same bridal styling, and they'd even prepared an identical wedding dress. They made me promise not to tell Miss Roca."

The same dress, the same bridal styling, my exclusive ring taken.

With my mother's help, she had completely taken my place and married my fiancé.

The guests murmured among themselves, and Damian's face grew darker by the second.

Lydia looked at me, eyes red: "Vivian, I really didn't know anything. There were so many people in the room today, I was nervous and scared, and I grabbed the wrong ring by accident."

"But it's done now. He and I are already husband and wife."

I took a step forward.

"Our two families had an engagement long ago, and the ring was placed in my hand by his mother herself. You think you can erase this whole marriage with one 'I picked up the wrong ring' and one 'we're already married'?"

"Besides, the ring from the Castelli family is a million-dollar antique emerald. What your mother left you is a plain old silver ring not worth five hundred dollars."

"These two things are so far apart—are you telling me you didn't know you'd picked up the wrong one?"

I forcefully lifted Lydia's hand, slid the ring off, and held it up together with the plain old silver ring, making sure everyone could see.

"Do you think that excuse of hers holds up?"