The 99th time I was supposed to marry Vincent Falcone, he killed me.

He blew up my car. With our unborn child inside me.

I remember his excuse. The one he gave to his new bride.

"She was just too stubborn. Insisted on being my wife."

"An 'accident' was the only way to make her, and the kid, disappear for good."

The man who defied his family for me finally got tired of being poor.

So he erased his "stain."

Me.

But I was reborn.

This time, I didn't wait for a wedding that would never come.

I packed a bag and walked away.

He ran straight back to his family's money.

The next time we met, he was at the altar with another woman.

Then he saw my stomach.

He cornered me after the ceremony, his eyes blazing.

"Whose child is that?" he snarled.

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1

The moment I saw Vincent again, the memory of being burned alive seared through me, and I was that restless, disembodied soul once more.

"Vincent, how could you be so cruel? When you loved me, you treated me like a queen. When you stopped, you burned my world to the ground."

In the family study, cigar smoke swirled in the air.

Vincent, his face buried in a woman's hair, didn't even lift his eyes.

"Five years. I'm sick of looking at the same face for five years. Hiding in the shadows with her… it was more than I could take."

"She can never marry into the Falcone family, and I can't stay in the shadows forever. An 'accident' is the best way to end it."

Vincent's father, Don Falcone, sighed heavily. "Elara is carrying a Falcone. You wouldn't even spare your own child?"

"An orphan girl? How is she worthy of bearing the heir to the Falcone family?"

Vincent's cold words cut through my flesh like a scalpel.

I subconsciously reached out, wanting to wring the life from his worthless neck.

But my hand could only pass through his body, again and again.

Powerlessness and despair shattered me completely.

This was the brutal end to our passionate love.

Back then, Vincent had fallen for me at first sight, defying his family and even leaving the Family for my sake.

He was beaten black and blue, yet he insisted on standing by my side.

At that time, everyone said that passionate love was a game only the upper class could afford to play.

And yet, it was this same Vincent who personally ended my life and our child's, all to clear his path back to his family.

Only then did I understand that love was the most treacherous thing in this world.

So, in this new life, I left him without looking back, without a single word of goodbye.

"I'm asking you, whose child are you carrying?"

Vincent's suddenly sharp voice pulled me back to the present.

He stared intently at my abdomen, his gaze like a tempered blade, as if he wanted to burn a hole right through my stomach.

I glanced around, but I didn't see the bride.

Just as I was about to speak, a sharp female voice interrupted.

"So this is the great love you raised hell for? The one you couldn't live without? She doesn't look like much."

"Vincent, your taste is truly abysmal."

Those two dismissive remarks drew a ripple of snickers from the crowd.

The speaker was none other than his bride-to-be, Isabella.

The Falcone family was a mid-tier power in the Chicago underworld, one of many families that had risen through opportunism.

Yet, families like theirs had standards for choosing a daughter-in-law that rivaled the royal family's.

Whether a woman was slender or curvy, her selection ultimately came down to one word: "profit."

Isabella, in a lavish white gown, was exquisite and elegant, looking every bit the perfect match for Vincent.

Vincent, this is the life you wanted, isn't it? A perfect match, a beautiful woman by your side.

"Look at her, dressed like she just crawled out of the gutter. The stench of poverty is choking me."

"What's she holding? It looks so greasy, it's disgusting!"

"Vincent, why is your ex-girlfriend like gum on your shoe? You can't seem to shake her off."

"Did she come here pregnant to crash the wedding? Or is she broke and looking for child support from the groom?"

Amidst the rising tide of mockery, I glanced down at the croissant in my hand.

My pregnancy cravings kicked in, and I just had to get a croissant from the corner bakery.

I looked at the simple dress I'd thrown on; it did look a bit shabby.

But I didn't care at all.

"You've got it all wrong. I was just passing by."

I had intended to explain, but looking at the smug faces in this crowd, I instantly lost my appetite.

My good mood was utterly ruined.

"Stop!"

"Since you're already here, my wedding could use a little sideshow like you, couldn't it?"

Isabella signaled for her bodyguards to block my way, her eyes filled with mockery as she settled in for a show.

I frowned.

I glanced at Vincent; his expression hardened.

He beckoned to someone behind him, and one of his men handed him an envelope stuffed with cash.

"So high and mighty when you walked out. I bet you've learned how hard life is without money, haven't you?"

"Take this money and get out of Chicago."

"The Falcone family will never acknowledge this child."

I stared at the thick stack of cash, dazed.

The echoes of my past life roared in my head, a phantom ache in a heart that no longer felt.

But the sting was still real.

"I'll have my lawyer draft an agreement. Sign it, and then disappear from my life for good."

Vincent's pretense of generosity drew a ripple of contemptuous whispers from the crowd.

Before I could react, Isabella snatched the money from my hand.

"Why are you giving her money?"

"Vincent, you can't possibly still have feelings for this woman!"

"I don't tolerate deceit. Who here doesn't know you were ready to die for her?"

With the Falcone family's power waning, they needed an infusion of cash. Isabella's family, rising through the ranks of smugglers, was the perfect solution. It was a classic arranged marriage.

Isabella had finally managed to latch onto the Falcone family, and now I, a thorn in her side, had appeared. Naturally, she wanted me out of the picture.

"Isabella, stop making a scene."

Vincent pulled Isabella back, his words laced with a warning.

"Haven't you embarrassed the family enough?"

Vincent’s gaze on me was a turbulent mix of anger and something unreadable, but he still subconsciously stepped in front of me.

Watching his back as he shielded me, a bitter pang went through my heart.

In my past life, he had shielded me from every storm just like this, and when he looked back at me, his eyes would be full of deep affection.

But why did he become so heartless?

I lifted my head, my gaze turning ice-cold.

"Vincent, drop the hypocritical act."

"I don't need it. And besides, the child in my belly isn't yours!"

Vincent looked as if he'd heard something utterly absurd, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at me in disbelief.

It had only been five months since I'd left him, and my stomach was already swollen, clearly four months along.

"Elara, I know you still hate me, but there's no point in lying to me!"

I let out a cold laugh. He would probably never understand that once a woman's heart dies, she can let go in an instant.

The moment he detonated that bomb, my love for him had already turned to ash.

"If you don't believe me, I'll send you a paternity test after the child is born!"

Seeing my conviction, humiliation washed over Vincent’s face.

"So she wasn't here for a payout, she was here to announce she cuckolded the groom!"

"Well, Falcone, congratulations on getting played on your wedding day!"

...

The entire hall erupted in laughter. Vincent just stood there, rooted to the spot as if the floor were covered in hot coals.

He viciously yanked me towards him, his fury palpable.

"So you left me because you'd already climbed into someone else's bed?"

I instinctively tried to pull away, but Vincent gripped my wrist so tightly it felt like he might crush my bones.

"Elara, do you really think you can get away?"

"I wasn't going to make this hard on you, but you just don't know when to quit."

I stared directly into Vincent's eyes, and in their dark depths, I saw the ghost of our past.

After cutting ties with the Falcone family, Vincent lost all his financial support.

I used all my savings to pay six months' rent, and we promised to work hard together to build a life of our own.

Back then, love was all we needed. We had the purest hopes for our future, for our love.

But Vincent couldn't shake off his life of privilege; he simply couldn't endure a life of poverty.

I had to work three jobs just to make ends meet, but even so, I never once complained.

I once deeply believed that love could conquer all.

Back then, we'd share a single bowl of pasta, so poor we could only afford the cheapest canned food to fill our stomachs.

In the beginning, he would hold me and say, "Elara, as long as I'm with you, I don't care if I lose everything."

"Elara, I love you so much."

But as I got busier and he became more idle, he started to complain, to argue. And after the fights, he would hold me and beg me to forgive him.

He postponed our wedding ninety-eight times with all sorts of excuses, and yet I still made excuses for him, not knowing that he already saw me as a stumbling block to his return to the family.

"Yes, I must have been blind to have fallen for you," I said flatly, my voice devoid of emotion.

"I bet she's faking it with a pillow! If she were really pregnant, would she be parading around like this?"

With that, Isabella picked up her wine glass and threw its entire contents at me.

The red wine soaked through my only dress, chilling me to the bone.

Isabella lifted her skirt, shrieking as she jumped back, as if I were covered in something filthy.

Her face was a mask of disgust, as if she wanted to rush over and tear me to shreds.

Looking at the wine stain on my dress, I seethed with anger, cursing that bastard Dante a thousand times over in my head.

If he hadn't insisted I come to this wedding to watch the show, why would I be here suffering this humiliation!

I glanced toward the entrance again. The person who said he would pick me up was still nowhere to be seen.

I pressed my temples and silently rolled my eyes.

"Vincent, she ruined my dress!"

Isabella tugged at Vincent, exasperated. "This is the gown you picked out for me yourself!"

Only then did I notice that beneath the family crest tattooed on Vincent's wrist, there was now a new, cursive letter "I."

In my past life, he had promised to tattoo an "E" for me there. Now, everything had changed.

My eyes began to sting uncontrollably. I couldn't watch this scene any longer.

Vincent looked down and chuckled softly.

"You said I couldn't forget her, didn't you? I'll prove it to you right now."

"Guards! Hold her down. Make her kneel and apologize to Isabella!"

Standing in the crowd, a buzzing exploded in my ears.

Bodyguards closed in from either side, pinning my arms and forcing me to my knees.

The baby in my womb seemed to sense my distress and began to stir violently.