Before my wedding to Julian Griffin, he crossed out his own name on the marriage contract—the very symbol of our two great families' alliance—and signed his brother's, Rhys Griffin's, instead. All for a stupid bet with Amber Cross.

A friend teased him, "You swapped your name with Rhys's on the contract just because you lost a bet to Amber? Aren't you afraid Principessa Donovan will make you pay for it?"

Julian replied dismissively, "She took a face full of fire for me. She can handle this. I've publicly humiliated her fifty-two times. What's one more? Besides, Rhys is a cripple. No woman would touch him. When Seraphina finds out, she'll come crawling back, and I'll still hold all the cards."

I stood just outside the door, hearing every single word. My blood ran cold.

For our families, the marriage contract was a sacred, inviolable symbol of our bond. Every couple joined in matrimony would sign their names, representing their family's blessing and the fusion of their power. Yet, Julian treated such a solemn vow like a cheap joke.

I didn't confront them. I simply turned in silence and strode away.

On the day of the wedding, Julian arrived at the church to find it utterly deserted. He called me, his voice frantic.

Across from me, my new groom waited. I stood before him in my pristine white wedding gown and answered calmly, "My wedding is about to begin. Are you calling to offer your congratulations?"

————————

1

On my wedding day, I walked toward the new husband Julian Griffin had chosen for me. But he was the one who would live to regret it.

...

My mother asked with concern, "Seraphina, are you absolutely sure about this? Rhys Griffin is paralyzed. He can't even care for himself. Julian was your fiancé, and he's the future Don of the Griffin family."

I cut her off. "My mind is made up. Julian and Rhys are brothers; they're both Griffins. Since Julian doesn't want me, why should I humiliate myself by begging for him?"

To our families, that contract was everything. Each union, solemnized by the signing of the document, represented a sacred alliance between two powerful dynasties. It was a tradition that upheld our honor and power—a ceremony of the highest dignity.

I never imagined Julian would treat it like a game.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, choking back a sob. Five years. I had wasted five years of my life on a man who didn't deserve a single second.

From the moment I first saw him at seventeen, I had been utterly devoted. I even took a bullet for him—or rather, a bomb. I shoved him clear of an explosion meant to kill him, only to be swallowed by the flames myself. I almost died.

Though I survived, the blast left its mark. I was plagued by excruciating, intermittent headaches that only powerful painkillers could manage.

When I learned I was to be joined with Julian in marriage, I was so ecstatic I couldn't sleep for nights on end.

I truly thought my happy ending was finally within reach.

However, Julian postponed our wedding again and again, always for a different reason. And every single reason had a name: Amber Cross.

The first time, Amber sprained her ankle at a club. Without a word, Julian abandoned me and our guests, racing to her side at a private hospital.

The second time, Amber threw a backstage tantrum, complaining that the evening gown I had personally designed for her wasn't dazzling enough. Julian canceled our wedding again, this time to procure more magnificent jewelry for her.

This charade continued until now, the fifty-second time.

At first, our family members sympathized with me. But as the cancellations mounted, they began to whisper that I was the problem.

They said I was cold and cruel, and that's why Julian despised me.

They said I was unfaithful, seeing other men behind his back, which was why he refused to go through with the ceremony.

The rumors spread like wildfire, the gossip growing more vicious with each retelling, until I couldn't even bear to show my face at family gatherings.

I begged Julian to set the record straight.

But he would just pat my head and murmur, "Don't listen to them. All that matters is that I know the truth about you."

At first, his words moved me. Only later did I discover that Julian himself was the source of those rumors. He wanted to divert everyone's attention to me, to shield Amber from their scrutiny.

Every betrayal was a bullet, ripping another bloody hole in my heart until it was nothing but shreds.

I'm done wasting my life on you, Julian.

The Don of the Griffin family, Alistair Griffin, was shocked to hear I wanted to marry Rhys. But considering his son had been in a wheelchair for years, he knew this might be Rhys's only chance at marriage. It was unlikely any other woman would agree.

So, Alistair granted my request, even offering a generous portion of the family's assets as a dowry.

As our two families discussed the wedding arrangements, I glanced out the studio window and saw Rhys in his wheelchair. He was in the manor's garden, engrossed in a book.

Though I could only see his profile, it was clear he was strikingly handsome, and his deep, ocean-blue eyes were mesmerizing. I found myself staring.

Suddenly, a tranquilizer dart shot out from the shadows of the bushes. I watched, breathless, as Rhys launched himself from his wheelchair, deftly dodging the dart and flicking a pebble back into the darkness with impossible speed.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Weren't his legs paralyzed? How could he be standing?

I blinked, certain I had imagined it. When I looked again, he was sitting quietly in his wheelchair, as if nothing had happened. I began to wonder if my mind was playing tricks on me.

The wedding details were quickly settled. Afterward, I went back to the villa I shared with Julian to pack my things.

When I opened the door, I found Amber perched on the living room sofa, wearing the haute couture gown I had designed myself.

Amber gave me a contemptuous smirk. "Oh, Seraphina, you're back. Julian says you make a killer cocktail. I'm parched. Be a dear and fix me something."

I ignored her and headed for my bedroom.

Just then, Julian appeared, his expression souring at my dismissal of her.

"Seraphina, Amber just wanted to try one of your cocktails. She meant no harm. You're supposed to be the Donna of the Griffin family, and you're acting this petty? How am I supposed to trust you with this family?"

Amber immediately clutched Julian's sleeve, her face a mask of feigned innocence. "Julian, don't talk to Seraphina like that. It's all my fault, I should have called first. Since Seraphina doesn't like me, I should probably just go."

She started for the door, but Julian caught her arm. "How could anyone not like you? You're so charming and lovely. Look, I even brought you a gift."

He then produced a car key and pressed it into Amber's hand. "I had the dealership customize it for you. You can drive it to my wedding. You'll be the star of the show."

Amber accepted the key, beaming. "This must have been so expensive."

Julian stroked her hair indulgently. "It's nothing. A mere half-million. Anything for you."

I ignored them both, my heart a leaden weight in my chest as I walked toward the kitchen.

Last time, Amber had complained her bridesmaid dress wasn't as gorgeous as my wedding gown, so Julian forced me to switch to a simpler dress.

He had told me then, "Seraphina, darling, Amber is sensitive about her humble background. That gown of yours is so extravagant, it'll only make her feel small. Besides, you're beautiful in anything you wear."

I had believed him and given up the gown I'd spent months choosing. I never imagined he was secretly buying Amber a limited-edition sports car behind my back.

At dinner, Julian asked casually, "Have you gone over all the wedding arrangements?"

I nodded.

A flash of displeasure crossed his face. He pressed, "Did you check the signature on the marriage contract? It's a family tradition. We can't afford any mistakes."

I feigned ignorance. "I've checked everything. It's all in order."

Julian was about to push the issue, but Amber interrupted. She pointed to a faded tattoo on his arm. "Julian, that tattoo of Seraphina's initial is so pretty. If I had a tattoo of my name to go with my dress, it would be even more stunning."

Julian hesitated, his expression conflicted. That tattoo was a symbol of his status as the family heir, personally inked by his father, the Don.

He knew exactly what it represented.

Facing Amber's expectant gaze, Julian looked torn. Finally, he turned to me. "Seraphina, we aren't married yet. Technically, you aren't the Donna. So just for now, let this go. After the wedding, I'll make it up to you with an even bigger surprise."

The man I was marrying wasn't Julian anyway, so the tattoo meant nothing to me now. But as my eyes fell upon it, a flood of memories returned.

Years ago, he had pointed to that very tattoo and sworn my name would be the only mark he ever allowed on his body. Now, for another woman, he was ready to erase it.

My eyes fell to the spot on his arm where my initial had once been. Now it was just a blurred, scarred mess from the laser removal, a new design for Amber already inked over the ruin. He grabbed his jacket, trying to cover the ugly mark, and said to me, "On our wedding day, I'll give you a proper explanation."

In that moment, the tattoo that had haunted me for years lost its power. And with it, so did the man who had bound me for so long.

"You're right," I said, my voice flat. "I'm not the Donna yet. It's not my place to be concerned."

Julian hadn't expected me to concede so easily. His expression grew complicated.

Then, he repeated, "I promise. On our wedding day, you'll get the perfect explanation."

At his words, a flash of jealousy crossed Amber's face.

I didn't answer him. I just watched Julian pull his jacket sleeve over that patch of scarred skin.

I put down my cutlery and asked seriously, "Julian, since I have no issue with the tattoo, shouldn't you return my cufflinks?"

Julian stared at me in disbelief. "You want the family heirloom cufflinks back? What are you trying to say? Are you telling me you don't want to marry me?"

I nearly laughed. Who was the one who didn't want this marriage? But I held my tongue, desperate to preserve what little dignity I had left and not sound like some bitter, scorned woman.

I just said calmly, "I simply don't think it's appropriate for you to wear them anymore."

Julian ripped the cufflinks from his sleeves and tossed them onto the table in front of me. "Fine. They don't suit me. Time for a new pair anyway."

With that, he dropped his napkin, took Amber's hand, and stormed out.

My fingers gently traced the obsidian set in the cufflinks. I had gone to hell and back to find these matching gems in a Sicilian mine. Since he didn't cherish them, he would never get a second chance.

Over the next few days, I threw myself into my wedding preparations. I didn't see Julian once, nor did he call.

The long hours and stress brought my migraines roaring back. After running out of medication, I had to drag myself to the private clinic.

My vision blurred. I stumbled down the hall, one hand braced against the wall for balance, when a familiar voice cut through the haze.

"The doctor said you're fine, so stop worrying," Julian said softly.

I looked up and saw him in the waiting area, cradling Amber in his arms. It had been a long time since I'd seen such tenderness in his eyes.

Amber leaned against his chest, feigning weakness. "My stomach just hurts so much. I think I need to rest for a few days. But your wedding is in three days. How can I not be there as your bridesmaid?"

Julian gently stroked her hair. "Don't worry about that. The ceremony can wait. Your health is what's most important."

Watching them, I couldn't suppress a cold, bitter laugh.

When I got home, I found Julian on the phone, arranging to postpone the venue. He noticed the medicine in my hand, and his brow furrowed.

He asked, "Headache again?"

I hummed in agreement.

He glanced at his phone, hesitating before saying, "I need to go out of town for a few days. We'll have to postpone this wedding too. There are too many urgent family matters to attend to."

My expression was carefully blank. "You're going to Amber, aren't you?"