Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Dante stayed with me while I handled the funeral. I didn't expose their lies or tell him I was already preparing to leave.

After the empty coffin was buried, I went back to the family's little chapel. With Dante beside me, I played the part they expected and lit a candle for my mother. Then my vision went black, and I collapsed.

I woke up in the hospital. The doctor handed me my test results.

"You're seven weeks pregnant."

Dante came into the room. The moment he took the results, his eyes reddened. He pulled me into his arms and wouldn't let go. "We're having a baby. I'm going to be a father."

Once, I would have held him and shared his happiness. Now it just felt absurd.

I wanted to ask him—weren't you already a father? What was there to be so excited about?

A nurse brought in the appointment details for my follow-up. After she left, I looked at Dante.

"The wedding can wait. Let's go to City Hall and get married today."

His arms loosened around me. "Today?"

"Haven't you always wanted to marry me? Now we're having a baby too."

His smile slowly faded. "Serafina, we just buried your mother. What would your father think if we got married now?"

"We won't tell him."

He didn't answer.

I looked down at the results and let it drop.

The next day, security footage of Dante and me at my prenatal appointment made the gossip headlines.

"Whitman Heir Takes Mistress to Prenatal Appointment."

The post included a foreign marriage certificate. The bride's name was blurred, but Dante Whitman's was perfectly clear.

People soon recognized me and dug up the announcement of our engagement from five years earlier. But the account behind the story kept repeating the same thing: Dante was married, his wife had just given birth, and I was still seeing him.

Our engagement was dismissed as long over. I became the woman chasing a married man, trying to use a pregnancy to push out his wife.

Reporters and onlookers holding up their phones crowded the entrance to my office building. The moment I got out of the car, they surrounded me.

"His wife just had a baby, and now you're pregnant? You want him to leave her and marry you?"

"I'm not his mistress!" I shouted.

No one wanted to hear my answer. Staff at the entrance held the crowd back long enough for me to retreat into the lobby. Crying, I called Dad. "Dad, put out a statement. Dante and I got engaged five years ago."

He was silent for a long time before he answered.

"Serafina, this is a delicate situation. Don't make it worse."

I already knew the truth. I knew my entire family was helping Grace keep it from me. My voice still shook when I heard him say it.

"So you're going to let millions of people call me his mistress? Dad, those people outside want to tear me apart."

Matteo took the phone. "The PR team is handling it. Stay home for now. Don't let the reporters get any more pictures of you."

Alessandro spoke in the background. "And don't give Dante a hard time. He must have had his reasons."

I printed out the marriage certificate and went straight to my parents' house.

The moment I came through the door, Dad's expression changed. He immediately turned his phone facedown.

"Serafina? What are you doing here—"

I stared at him. "I thought I heard Mom's voice when I was outside."

The living room went silent. Dad froze for only two seconds before his eyes filled. "You must have misheard, sweetheart. I was watching an old video of her."

Matteo and Alessandro came out of the hallway together. One took the papers from me; the other came to help me sit down.

"You've been exhausted lately."

"Sit down first. Rushing over here like this isn't good for you."

The three of them didn't even need to exchange a glance to keep each other's lies going.

They'd just helped me bury an empty coffin, then turned around and called my living mother. They could still stand in front of me with tears in their eyes, pretending to miss her. I gripped the paper in my hands, not knowing which lie to call out first.

Dad kept explaining. "That time Dante and Grace were together, she was upset, and he had a drink with her. They both had too much. It was a one-time mistake."

Matteo picked up without missing a beat. "Then she got pregnant. Dante only signed the papers for the baby."

Alessandro frowned at me. "It's a piece of paper. Does it matter more than the five years you've had together?"

I laughed out loud.

My fiancé sleeping with my adopted sister, having a baby with her, getting married overseas—all mistakes.

Me waiting five years—that was simply expected.

I looked at Dante. "Is that how you see it too?"

He came toward me, looking worn out. "Serafina. I was going to divorce Grace once she'd recovered a little. But she just had the baby, and the doctor says she can't handle any emotional stress—"

I cut him off with a mocking smile.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. I want one answer: when are you going to tell everyone I'm not your mistress?"

The living room went quiet.

Finally, Matteo spoke stiffly. "If we release the marriage timeline now, people will find Grace. She just had a baby. She can't handle this."

Dad pleaded with me, his eyes red. "Serafina. Grace lost her parents years ago. You grew up together. It wasn't easy for her to have this baby. You have all of us who love you."

Alessandro looked at me too. "Don't release her name yet. She just gave birth. She can't have reporters at her door every day."

I looked at the four of them, suddenly drained of every bit of strength.

Their answer hadn't changed in five years.

It didn't matter anymore.