Maria's expression faltered, clearly not expecting the question.

She quickly mumbled an excuse about attending to her duties and scurried away.

I went to the window and watched Vincenzo seeing Dr. Moretti off.

They spoke in low voices for a long time.

It ended with Vincenzo slipping the doctor a thick envelope.

I stared at the doctor's face as he accepted the money.

A chill settled deep in my bones.

If this were a normal consultation, Vincenzo would have already paid his fee.

Why the extra cash?

Isabella's words rang in my ears, every single one.

The thermostat was set to a comfortable warmth, but I felt frozen solid.

Before Vincenzo returned, I hurried to the sofa and pretended to be engrossed in a book.

He approached silently from behind, about to drape a blanket over my shoulders.

Suddenly, his phone chimed.

The moment he glanced at the screen, a deep, unguarded tenderness I had never seen before softened his features.

It was a look he never gave me.

"Family business. I have to go take care of it."

With that, he turned to leave.

I instinctively moved to block the doorway, tears welling in my eyes.

"Please, don't go."

A flash of impatience crossed his eyes, but he kept his voice soft.

"It really is business. I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

Seeing the tears on my face, he suppressed his irritation and added, "Do you want me working overtime during our honeymoon? Be good. I'm taking care of this now so we can have a future together."

But is it really for us?

I didn't ask the question out loud.

Vincenzo left anyway.

My own phone chimed.

There was only one sentence on the screen.

"I know you don't believe me. If you want the truth, come to this address."

I didn't recognize the number, but I knew exactly who it was from.

I took a cab to a private club.

Outside the VIP room, I stared through a one-way mirror.

I saw Vincenzo—the man I believed was my fiancé of five years—pinning Isabella against the bar.

Her dress was hiked up her thighs, the bodice slipping to reveal the swell of her breasts as their bodies pressed together.

They were kissing furiously, as if they couldn't get enough.

After a long moment, their lips parted. In the dim light, I saw a thin, glistening thread of saliva stretch between them.

Isabella rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes flicking toward the mirror, right at me.

Her lips curved into a sly, triumphant smile.

"Vince, when are you going to tell that fool the truth?"

"She threw wine on me today. Am I just supposed to take that?"

"We're supposed to be the ones together, and now I have to plan her wedding to you. It's breaking my heart."