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."