Isabella finally snapped. "Elara, you're insane! Guards! Get her out of my sight!"

"Not so fast, dear sister." I walked right up to her. "I'm not done. You want to know how Isabella got this ring? She drugged me, stole my ring, and tried to steal my future."

"You're lying!" Isabella screamed.

"Am I?" I pulled a small vial from my purse. "Then what's this? Sleeping pills. Found in your room. With your fingerprints all over them."

It was a bluff, of course.

But her face drained of color. Her body started to shake.

I held up the vial, my voice rising. "This morning, my own sister brought me a cup of tea. To celebrate my big day, she said."

"I drank it, and the world went black. When I woke up, I was locked in a hotel room."

"And my wedding dress, my ring, my groom—she'd stolen them all!"

The guests started whispering.

"If that's true, that's just awful."

"How could a sister do that?"

Isabella panicked. "You lie! I didn't drug you! That vial isn't mine!"

I pointed at her hand. "Marco. Tell them. Who did you give this ring to three months ago?"

All eyes went to Marco.

Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Just then, my father stormed onto the altar. "That's enough! Elara, stop this circus right now!"

He snatched the vial from my hand and smashed it on the floor.

Here he comes. The next character in my script has arrived.

"My apologies for this disruption." Father addressed the guests, his voice dangerously calm. "My daughter, Elara... she isn't well. She has a history of... fantasies. Delusions."

"Dad!" I put on a look of perfect shock. "How could you say that?"

"Because it's the truth!" his voice was cold. "Isabella has been Marco's fiancée since they were children. It was an arrangement between our families. A bastard has no place in this union."

Marco finally found his voice. "I'm sorry you all had to see this."

He pulled out a few photos and held them up for everyone.

"These are photos of me and Isabella. We've been together since we were sixteen."

In the photos, a young Marco had his arm around Isabella's waist. They were kissing.

"Elara was jealous of her sister, so she made up these lies," Marco continued. "She even stole Isabella's ring to pretend she was my fiancée."

A wave of gasps went through the pews.

"Oh, I see now."

"That poor Isabella."

"A bastard's jealousy is a dangerous thing."

I felt their stares, a mix of pity and disgust.

But the pity wasn't for me. It was for Isabella.

"Those photos are fake!" I lunged for them. "You're all in on it! You're framing me!"

"Elara, get a grip." Marco stepped back. "A bastard could never be the lady of the Moretti family. You should know your place."

My father grabbed my arm. "Enough! You've shamed this family enough!"

He dragged me to the side, hissing in my ear. "I'll give you half a million dollars. Get out of New York and never come back."

"I don't want your money!" I ripped my arm away. "I want the truth!"

"The truth?" Father sneered. "The truth is you're a bastard who doesn't know her place! Isabella is my real daughter!"

"And what about me?" My voice started to tremble on purpose. "What am I?"

"You?" My father stared at me, his eyes empty of love. "You were a mistake. A ghost I should have buried long ago. You never should have been born."

Marco walked back to the priest. "Sorry about that. Let's continue. Isabella and I need to sign the marriage certificate."

"No!" I ran forward. "I'm his fiancée!"

But my performance did nothing to stop them.

If anything, it pushed them to seal the deal faster.

Perfect.

Marco and Isabella walked to the signing table.

The lawyer had the certificate ready.

Isabella picked up the pen, shot me a victorious look, and signed her name.

Marco signed his.

The priest announced, "I now pronounce Marco Moretti and Isabella De Luca husband and wife."

I let a single, perfect tear roll down my cheek. “But Isabella… what about Lucas? I thought you were carrying his baby?”

I watched them both go rigid, a poison dart, perfectly aimed.

Whispers erupted through the church as the guests turned on Isabella, their eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Another man’s child? Is she trying to pollute the Moretti bloodline?!”

Isabella snapped. She stormed over to me.

Her hand swung up, and the crack of her palm against my cheek echoed through the hall.

“You shut your mouth! What nonsense are you talking!”

The slap echoed through the silent church.

My cheek burned, but I didn't flinch.

Isabella's eyes were full of venom and victory. "Now do you know your place?"

The moment the slap landed, her expression crumbled. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to the sobbing guests.

"I'm so sorry, everyone. I just... I couldn't take it anymore." Her voice cracked. "The truth is... my father only took Elara and her mother in because I begged him to. She's a bastard. She has no right to the De Luca name, much less a place in our home. But after she moved in, she tried to take everything from me."

She squeezed out a few more tears, sounding even more pitiful.

"She even started imagining my fiancé was hers!"

I stared at her, stunned. When did she get so good at lying?

"Three months ago, she got on her knees and begged me," Isabella sobbed. "She asked if she could borrow my engagement ring, just for a few days. I felt sorry for her, so I said yes. And now... now she's twisting the story, using my ring as proof that she's engaged to Marco. As for the baby, it’s a complete lie. I belong only to Marco!"

People in the crowd were nodding. "Ah, so that's what happened."

"No wonder she made such a scene."

My mind flashed to the evidence I’d received this morning, delivered with that cryptic text.

Evidence of their affair. Of Marco conspiring against his own family, all for a woman.

I burned my gaze into Isabella.

Soon, that triumphant smile would be wiped off her face for good.

Isabella hid behind Marco. "Marco, I'm scared. The way she's looking at me is terrifying."

Marco immediately wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I'll protect you."

He glared at me, his eyes filled with disgust. "Elara, you've lost your mind. Do you have any idea how much stress Isabella has been under trying to help you?"

"I've lost my mind?" I laughed. “Marco, you betrayed your own blood for a woman like this. For her, you cost this family…”

I let the accusation hang in the air, unfinished. A powerful female voice sliced through the tension.

"Enough!"

Marco's mother, Sofia Moretti, was on her feet.

"Elara De Luca, you have shamed my son enough." Sofia walked onto the altar. "Someone take this crazy woman away. Lock her in the cellar until she comes to her senses."

A few guards in black suits started walking toward me.

"Mrs. Moretti, are you sure about this?" I didn't fight. I just looked at her calmly. "Locking up a guest in your cellar... if word of this gets out, it could hurt Marco's reputation."

"Reputation?" Sofia sneered. "You're the one hurting his reputation! A bastard, making a scene at a Moretti wedding?"

"I'm just taking back what's mine," I said, my voice even. "It would be a shame if Marco's position as heir was questioned because he couldn't handle one woman."

Sofia's face darkened. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm just stating a fact," I smiled. "After all, there are others in the family with their eyes on the heir's seat."

That was all it took.

"Insolent bitch! You dare threaten my son's future?" Sofia's voice was pure venom. "Guards! Get this filth out of my sight. Take her to the docks and feed her to the fishes!"

The church went dead silent.

Everyone was shocked. Ordering a hit at a wedding was insane.

But this was exactly what I needed.

This was the plan.

The longer I dragged out this farce, the more time Don Dante had to secure the final piece of evidence—the nail in Marco’s and his mother’s coffin.

Every insult, every blow they landed on me, was just another minute for Dante’s victory.

Just as the guards were about to grab me, a figure rushed out.

"No! Please, don't hurt my daughter!"

It was my mother.

A jolt of shock went through me.

What was she doing here?

Isabella smirked, her eyes cold and calculating.

I realized then: I’d stalled for too long. The script had changed. And Isabella had just played a new, cruel card…

She wore a simple grey dress, and she stumbled onto the altar.

My mother hit her knees. The thud echoed on the cold, marble floor right in front of Sofia.

"Mrs. Moretti, I'm begging you, please spare Elara! She's young, she doesn't know any better. I'll apologize for her!"

"Mom, get up!" I tried to reach her, but the guards held me back.

My mother remained on her knees, her sobs the only sound in the cavernous church.

"Mrs. Moretti, it's my fault. I didn't raise her right. Please, forgive her this once."

Sofia looked down on my kneeling mother without a hint of pity.

Marco and Isabella just stood there, watching coldly.

Isabella leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. "See?" she smirked. "Even your own mother knows you're worthless."

"Mom, get up!"

I finally broke free from the guards, rushing to my mother's side and pulling her to her feet.

"Don't you dare kneel for these people! They aren't worth it!"

Her knees were raw, blood soaking through her grey dress.

"Elara, please, just stop talking," my mother begged, her voice shaking as she gripped my hand. "Please, I’m begging you, just apologize to Mrs. Moretti."

"I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?"

Seeing this, Isabella's face twisted into a wicked smile.

"Wait, Sofia," she said, placing a delicate hand on her new mother-in-law's arm. "I have an idea."

Everyone looked at her.

"I can't bear to see Elara's mother in so much pain," Isabella said, faking sympathy. "So how about this? We give Elara a chance to prove herself."

"What kind of chance?" I asked coldly.

Isabella pointed to an iron cage at the back of the church.

Inside were two starving Dobermans. Sofia's pets. Her instruments of discipline.

"If you dare get in that cage and spend ten minutes with our family pets, I'll let your mother go."

Hearing the voices, the Dobermans began to slam against the bars, crazed and furious.

Their eyes were red. Saliva dripped from their mouths.

The guests gasped.

"My God, that's too dangerous."

"Those dogs haven't been fed in three days."

"This is murder!"

But Isabella didn't care. "Well, Elara? Are you brave enough? Or do you not even have the guts to sacrifice yourself for your own mother?"

"No!" my mother cried, clinging to me. "Elara, Mom isn't worth this!"

Marco stood by, watching. He even gestured to the sound technician. "Turn up the music," he ordered. "I don't want any... unpleasantness to ruin the celebration."

He didn't even want to hear me scream.

This was the man I loved in my past life.

"Marco!" I stared at him. "Are you really going to watch me die?"

"It's your choice," Marco shrugged. "Nobody's forcing you into the cage."

Just then, my father walked over.

He pushed my mother out of the way.

"That's enough!" he roared at her. "Stop embarrassing yourself!"

He turned back to the guests, his voice like ice.

"From this day forward, I, Antonio De Luca, have only one daughter: Isabella."

He looked at me, his eyes empty of any emotion.

"As for Elara... her and her mother have nothing to do with the De Luca family."

His words were a knife straight through my heart.

My mother collapsed onto the floor, staring at him in disbelief.

"You... how could you?" Her voice sounded like it came from hell itself. "Antonio, have you forgotten the promises you made to me?"

"Promises?" Father laughed coldly. "That was just foolish talk from when we were young. Isabella is my pride, my heir."

He sneered, nudging my mother with the toe of his polished shoe, "As for you two, you are a stain on this family's honor. A mistake that should have been erased long ago."

I looked at my mother, sobbing on the floor. I looked at Isabella, glowing with triumph. I looked at Marco, cold and indifferent.

"Fine." I stood up. My voice was terrifyingly calm. "I'll get in the cage."

“Elara, no!” My mother lunged for me, but my father sent her sprawling with a brutal kick.

“Since you’re all so eager to watch me die,” I said, my voice terrifyingly calm, “then I’ll give you the show you came for.”

I knew I wasn’t going to die here.

And soon, every single one of them would regret that they hadn’t killed me when they had the chance.

I walked toward the iron cage.

Each step wasn’t a walk of shame, but a procession toward my throne.

The Dobermans’ snarls were deafening. The guard’s hand rested on the heavy lock.

Any second now.

“Wait.” I turned back, took one last look at these people, and a strange smile appeared on my lips. “Remember everything about today. One day, you will pay the price for this.”

A guard stepped forward, his hand on the lock.

"Watch closely," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm as I turned back, taking one last look at them all. "Remember this day. Because I will make every last one of you pay."

Just as the guard's hand touched the lock, the church doors burst open.

"Stop!" a man's voice boomed. "By order of the Don! Who the hell dares touch Don Dante's wife!"