Chapter 3

Lucien had carried me on his back like that when we were children, too.

When I was twelve, my parents died in a car accident. I hid in an abandoned garage for three days without eating or drinking.

Lucien found me and carried me home on his back when I could barely stand.

He held my hand and said earnestly, “Ines, you can live with us from now on. My parents will take care of you. So will I.”

“Don’t be scared. I won’t let you be alone again.”

His back was still as broad as it had been then. I could feel his warmth through his suit.

But the man who’d once bent down for me no longer belonged to me.

As soon as we reached the bottom of the stairs, Lucien set me down.

“Ines.” He straightened my veil with a smile.

“This is as far as I’ll carry you. You can walk the rest of the way, okay?”

Dalia immediately frowned. “You carried her downstairs, and the car’s right outside. Why can’t you take her all the way?”

“Her feet aren’t injured. What difference do a few steps make?”

“Lucien, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Dalia’s voice shook with anger. “Since you walked in, have you done a single thing for her?”

“Dalia.” I tugged lightly at her hand.

“It’s fine. I can walk.”

Lucien wasn’t my groom.

What right did he have to escort me to the wedding car?

The black wedding car waited outside the yard, roughly 110 yards from the gate.

When I reached the end of that walk, our eight years together would be over, too.

After I got into the car, Lucien stayed beside the door.

“Ines.”

He looked at me, something passing through his eyes that I couldn’t read.

In the end, he said only, “Take care of yourself.”

Dalia impatiently urged him on. “What are you still standing there for? Get in!”

Lucien smiled and pointed at the car behind us. “I’ll ride in that one and follow you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Then he shut the door.

Dalia looked more troubled by the second. “What is he doing? Why isn’t the groom riding with his bride?”

“Because he’s sending me to marry in Odette’s place,” I said quietly.

“In her place?”

Before I could explain, Dalia noticed the road signs outside.

“Wait! Stop the car!”

“Aren’t we going to the church in Manhattan? Why are we on the road to Connecticut? Turn around!”

“Dalia,” I called to her. “He’s going the right way. I’m going to the Scalabrini estate.”

“The Scalabrini family?”

I told her, word for word, what I’d heard the night before.

Dalia shook with rage. “That bastard! How dare he do this to you?”

I stayed calm. “His family raised me for more than ten years. Think of this as the last time I pay back what I owe them.”

“What do you owe them?” She gripped my hand, tears streaming down her face.

“You saved Lucien’s life. You’ve already paid them back!”

“For the past two years, whenever he complained about pain from his surgical scar and lay in bed doing nothing, who stayed up all night taking care of him? You!”

“You’ve done so much for him. What gives him the right to send you away?”

Dalia was right.

If we really had to keep score, I’d paid that debt long ago.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

My phone vibrated, and a WhatsApp message popped up.

It was from Odette.

[Ines, this really is the happiest day of my life. Lucien just gave me a wedding present. Isn’t it pretty?]

I stared at the emerald-set gold bracelet in the photo, my fingers slowly going cold.

It was an heirloom my mother had left me, passed down since my great-grandmother’s generation.

I’d been too young when my parents died. Mrs. Soranzo had said she was afraid I’d lose it and put it in her safe for me.

She’d promised to put it on my wrist herself when I got married.

How could Lucien give it to Odette?

“Stop the car!”