When I was seventeen, Cesare Cassano, the youngest son of the Cassano Family, saw me once—and that was it. He was hooked.

At nineteen, he fought his way up and became the Don's chosen successor.

At twenty-one, in front of the whole city, I said yes to Cesare's over-the-top proposal.

Overnight, I became the woman every girl in Naples envied.

Everybody knew the Cassano Don would do anything for me—anything—just to see me smile.

And then three days later, at the billion-dollar wedding Cesare threw for me, livestreamed to the whole world, I fell off a cliff.

Just like that, I was dead. Gone without a trace.

Noemi's POV

"Signorina Naldoni, are you sure you want to 'fall to your death' at the wedding three days from now? The whole thing's gonna be livestreamed."

"Yes. I'm sure."

The staffer tried again. "It'll be broadcast worldwide. Once you fake your death, that identity's gone for good. You sure you wanna walk away from being the Donna?"

I tightened my grip on the proposal in my hand. My eyes stung, but my voice didn't shake.

"Yes. I don't want it anymore."

The whole world believed Cesare Cassano, Don of the Cassano Family, loved me like crazy.

Only I knew the truth.

Behind my back, he'd built another home—with some "innocent" college girl.

And it had been going on for two years.

Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't shake what I saw outside that house three days ago.

A cozy little villa. Cesare with his arm around a pregnant woman, steadying her. They stood close, smiling like they had the whole world.

The moment I uncovered that secret, my world caved in.

It took two days to confirm it. Two years of lies.

Photos. Videos. Proof I couldn't ignore.

The boy who once loved me more than anything had hidden his betrayal perfectly.

The memory slammed back into me. I shut my eyes.

Faking my death was the only way out.

I knew Cesare.

His possessiveness? Borderline obsession.

He'd never let me walk away.

But I didn't want to stay by his side anymore.

Every time he showed me tenderness, a thought crept in—was he like that with her too? Splitting the same affection between two women, two homes?

What I couldn't accept even more was the child.

The unborn heir to the Cassano Don.

The private investigator heard their conversation. The baby wasn't even born yet, and Cesare had already decided—he'd be the successor.

And me?

The fiancée.

A damn joke.

After the call, I wiped my tears and slid the fake-death plan into my vanity drawer.

I had just shut it when a weight dropped onto my shoulder.

A tall figure came up behind me, quiet as ever, and wrapped his arms around me.

"Noemi, why are you hiding in here? Didn't I tell you to hit Sotheby's and pick out a diamond ring?"

He stopped when he saw my face. "Why you're crying? You sick or something?"

The worry on Cesare's face looked real.

But pressed against him, I caught a faint scent of jasmine.

Not mine. I'd never worn that perfume.

It clung to his familiar scent.

My stomach twisted.

I shoved him off and stumbled into the bathroom, throwing up until I nearly blacked out.

He rushed in and wrapped me from behind, hands trembling as he wiped my mouth.

Cesare had a serious thing about cleanliness. The guy hated anything dirty. But now he ignored the mess completely. All he cared about was me.

He lifted me, ready to take me to the hospital.

I grabbed his sleeve. "I just ate something bad. I'm fine."

"No. We're going." His arms tightened around me, voice low and rough. "Three more days and you're my wife. My legal wife. You know how long I've waited for that? Until that day comes, I'm not letting anything go wrong."

The love on his face looked perfect.

If I hadn't just gotten the PI's photos—taken an hour ago—I might've believed it.

Cesare at an OB-GYN clinic. Standing close to that woman. The two of them looking at her ultrasound.

I swallowed everything down and forced a smile.

"Don't worry. Everything'll go exactly the way you want."

That night, a message from the staff popped up.

[Everything's arranged. At the wedding in three days, you'll disappear after an "accidental fall."]

Early the next morning, Cesare barged into my room and kissed me good morning, slow and lingering.

"Noemi, I was gonna take you to pick out your diamond ring today, but the Family's got an important meeting later." He looked almost apologetic. "So I had Sotheby's send over all this year's limited editions. You pick whatever you want."

He paused, then added, "Oh—and that 8.21-carat One of a Kind from Harry Winston. I told 'em to hold it for you. See if you like it."

Like always, what Cesare gave me were one-of-a-kind treasures.

He said they stood for his one-of-a-kind love.

Except that love had already been split—and given to someone else.

After setting everything up, Cesare hurried out of the estate.

I stayed in bed. Quiet. Waiting.

I knew that unfamiliar number would send another update soon—

Just like the first time, when it exposed the hidden home he kept.

Less than half an hour later, a video popped up on my phone.

The Don who was supposed to be at a Family meeting stood in a kitchen, wearing a cute apron that looked ridiculous on a man like him, busy cooking.

The girl behind the camera lifted her hand, flashing the 8.21-carat diamond ring.

"So you wanted the One of a Kind diamond for your wedding ring? Sorry. I guess I got a little spoiled—he gave this world-exclusive diamond to me for carrying his baby."

Fiona Becchi, the college girl Cesare had been keeping for two years, lowered her voice, all fake innocence.

"So what if you're his Donna? I'm the one giving him a child. My baby's gonna be the Don's heir."

She smiled at the camera.

"Tell me—when this is all over, who do you think wins? You... or me?"

My whole body trembled. I forced myself to shut off the screen.

Then I opened the jewelry list Sotheby's had sent.

Just like I expected—the world's only One of a Kind was gone.

So even the gift meant for me wasn't the first choice anymore?

For the rest of the day, I did nothing.

Just sat there with my phone, replaying the photos and videos Fiona sent.

The two of them eating together. Walking side by side.

Cesare even going with her to prenatal classes at the hospital.

***

When Cesare came back, he found me curled up on the bed, clutching my phone with shaking hands.

He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. His voice tightened. "What's wrong? Why your eyes so red?"

I shut off my phone and wiped my face. "Nothing. Just a bad dream."

His body eased. Guilt flickered across his face as he kissed my forehead. "My fault for leaving you here alone. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gone to that Family meeting... those damn old men."

He helped me get dressed himself, careful—like I might break.

"Ranato said you didn't come downstairs all day. That ain't good. Let's go get some French food. I booked your favorite place."

Ranato was the house manager.

Cesare took me out to a Michelin-starred French restaurant.

Before I even opened the menu, he spoke to the waiter like he'd done this a hundred times. "No cilantro. No oysters. Steak medium-well. Appetizer—pan-seared foie gras. No sweet sauce, black pepper instead. She doesn't like food too sweet."

His eyes skimmed the menu.

"For the main, sole with lemon butter sauce. Light on the salt. Her stomach's been acting up lately."

"And for dessert?" the waiter asked.

He paused for half a second, then answered easy. "Raspberry soufflé. No vanilla ice cream. She hates when it melts too fast."

It all came naturally.

Cesare always knew exactly what I liked—down to the smallest detail, even my stomach.

"Noemi, pick your wedding ring yet? Tomorrow the designer's matching your dress and hair to it. In all of Naples, you're gonna be the most dazzling bride."

Light burned in his eyes. Anticipation in his voice.

After a moment, I said hoarsely, "I picked one. I want the Harry Winston's 'One of a Kind.'"

Cesare froze.

I cut my steak without looking, my attention locked on Cesare.

His gaze drifted. A faint crease formed between his brows. "That limited-edition ring... it's a little tough to get. The auction house ain't easy to deal with. But if you like it, I'll try to secure it."

Before, the second he sounded troubled, I would've backed down. I'd always been careful with him—afraid of giving him even the smallest problem.

But tonight, I didn't budge.

"In Naples, who's gonna say no to you? What, they holding that diamond for someone bigger than you?"

Cesare sighed and rubbed my head gently.

"If you want the best, I'll get it. Graff's got a ten-carat fancy diamond. 'One-of-One.' Rare piece. Top tier."

A beat.

"Tomorrow at the wedding, it's on your finger."

Tears slipped out anyway. A faint, bitter smile tugged at my lips.

What did it matter how perfect it was? In Cesare's heart, I wasn't the first choice anymore.

"Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt."

A familiar voice came from beside me.

I looked up. Fiona rolled over a wine cart, calm as ever.

"I'm the sommelier. Care to try this 1998 Romanée-Conti?"

For a split second, Cesare's face tightened. He clearly hadn't expected her.

So photos and videos weren't enough. Now she had to show up herself.

His voice went cold. "Appreciate it, but we're good. You can go."

Fiona froze, color draining from her face. She murmured an apology and pushed the cart away.

Cesare didn't even look at her. His eyes stayed on me.

"If you want wine, I'll pull the best bottle from the cellar when we get home."

Before he finished, a cry rang out behind us—then the sharp crash of glass and a man yelling.

"Damn it! You blind or what, you useless server?"

I had just lifted my head when Cesare moved. He stepped in front of Fiona, shielding her.

He handled the furious man with quiet control. His gaze never once dropped to Fiona's injured leg.

He didn't look at her either.

I walked over without a word.

A flicker of tension crossed Cesare's eyes.

"She's a friend. Ran into some trouble. Just a misunderstanding. I'll handle it."

Behind him, Fiona shot me a smug smile.

I clenched my fists but gave a faint smile. "It's fine. I'm full. I'll head back first. Take care of your friend."

Cesare reached for me.

But Fiona grabbed his arm.

I stepped out of the restaurant. Behind me, his low, angry whisper slipped through.

"How many times I gotta tell you? Don't show up in front of Noemi. If she finds out anything, I swear—finito for you."

I didn't slow down.

But the ache inside only got worse.

Cesare... if you care about my feelings that much, why'd you betray me?

Back at the estate, I shipped out the luggage I'd already packed.

Anything I couldn't take, I destroyed. Nothing left behind.

Then I called the crew staging my death and moved the plan up—before the ceremony.

That night, Cesare didn't come back. Fiona claimed her stomach hurt and kept him with her.

I felt nothing.

I slipped into my wedding dress and climbed Monte Terminio alone—the spot for our snowy wedding.

Quiet. Romantic. Beautiful.

The cameras were already set, ready to stream our ceremony to the world.

***

Third-Person POV

The next morning, Cesare tore up the road toward the snow-covered plateau. His face was ice-cold, his chest a mess.

Today was his wedding day with Noemi. Yet Fiona had tricked him into staying the night.

He checked the time. 'An hour and a half till the ceremony. Noemi probably hasn't noticed I was gone all night... right?'

He clung to that hope. Swore this was the last lie.

From now on, he'd treat Noemi twice as good.

But when he reached the mountaintop, he was already thirty minutes late.

The wedding crew stood under the platform, pale and shaking.

The second Cesare stepped out, his right-hand man Paulo rushed over, voice cracking. "Don... just now, after Signorina Naldoni read a message, she ran to the cliff. Looked shaken."

Paulo swallowed hard.

"Then she slipped... and went over."