Chapter 2

Dante clearly did not believe me. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Elena, this isn’t the time to compete for my attention. I’ll make Bianca happy first. If she’s in a good mood tomorrow, she may even let you be her bridesmaid.”

Bianca pouted from his arms. “I don’t want her.”

At her urging, Dante carried her upstairs without looking back.

Before long, suggestive sounds began drifting from the master bedroom.

The butler hesitated several times before finally forcing out the words.

“Miss Marlowe, Mr. Valenti has never intended for Miss Russo to become the true mistress of the Valenti family.”

I glanced at the box of contraceptives in his hands and tilted my head toward the stairs.

“Take it up.”

The true mistress of the Valenti family?

I no longer wanted the title.

That evening, my friend Claire called me, her voice full of shock and confusion.

“Elena, what is going on? Why did Dante suddenly notify everyone that the wedding was canceled?”

“You’ve been planning this for a year. The estate and hotel decorations alone cost tens of millions, and you personally designed everything from the silverware to the floral arrangements. What gives him the right to cancel it on a whim?”

I sat up, rubbing my ear, fully awake now.

I was about to tell her that my wedding was not canceled when her voice suddenly rose.

“Wait! He just sent another invitation. The ceremony is still happening, but the bride has been changed to Bianca Russo. Who is this mistress? Has Dante lost his mind?”

Dante had always been like this.

When he loved someone, he gave her everything—power, money, and all his favor.

When he stopped loving her, he withdrew it all without hesitation.

Headlights swept past the window, briefly illuminating the room before darkness returned.

“Claire, don’t worry about any of this. Be at the venue on time tomorrow. If Dante can replace the bride, why can’t I replace the groom?”

The other end of the line went silent for several seconds.

Claire had clearly understood what had happened. Her voice shook with anger.

“Replace him. Of course you should replace him! That bastard acted more devoted than anyone before the wedding. He traveled through more than twenty countries with you for engagement photos, rented an entire coastline, and used drones to announce your wedding date to the whole city. And now he betrays you just like that? He’s a complete bastard!”

By the end, tears had entered her voice.

“Elena, wait there. I’m sending my husband to deal with him right now.”

I laughed helplessly.

I was about to tell her things were not quite that bad, and that every one of my prospective grooms was reliable, when someone knocked at the door.

The butler stood outside, looking pained.

“Miss Marlowe, Mr. Valenti requests that you come to the master bedroom.”

I knew that if I refused, Dante would take his anger out on the butler.

I told Claire to change into her bridesmaid dress and wait for me directly at the venue tomorrow, then went upstairs.

The half-open bedroom was in disarray, the air still thick with the unmistakable scent of sex.

They had obviously just finished.

Water dripped from the ends of Dante’s wet hair into the collar of his robe, sliding over a neck covered in kiss marks.

I dug my nails into my palm and forced myself to ignore the dense ache spreading through my chest.

“Elena, I know how much work you put into this wedding.” He pointed carelessly at a soiled bridesmaid dress on the floor. “Wear that tomorrow and stand beside Bianca. That way, your year of preparation won’t be completely wasted.”

Bianca lay wrapped in the sheets, malice curling at the corners of her mouth.

She leaned toward Dante and deliberately spoke loudly enough for me to hear.

“Dante, Elena is a top jewelry designer. The wedding rings she designed for you must be beautiful. I want them too.”

I looked at them without expression.

Like the gown, those rings had been created by my own hand. I had drawn the designs, chosen the stones, and supervised the craftsmen myself.

Dante could not possibly have forgotten.

Yet he said lightly, “Elena, they’re only rings. If Bianca likes them, let her use them first.”

“We haven’t set a new date for our wedding. You’ll have plenty of time to design another pair.”

His entitlement extinguished the final trace of attachment I still felt for him.

I looked into his eyes and said, one word at a time, “I told you. Tomorrow’s wedding will continue.”