While You Waited For Him

Everyone in Chicago knows that on the eighth of June every year, every flower shop in the city sells out.

That's because it's my birthday.

For five years of our arranged marriage, Damian has bought out all the flowers in the city to celebrate my birthday.

Everyone says he loves me more than life itself, envying our storybook romance.

But no one knows that on every one of my birthdays, my hands would be stained with blood as I knelt on the floor, arranging flower petals into a red carpet for his mistress, Scarlett.

And after Damian and Scarlett's passionate trysts, I would be the one to bring them champagne.

"Isabella, if your father hadn't used the life debt I owed him to blackmail me, Scarlett would have been my wife years ago."

"This is your punishment."

After five years, I couldn't bear it anymore.

When I proposed a divorce, Damian looked at me in astonishment.

Then he sneered, saying he would set me free only if I agreed to three conditions.

First, he wanted me to transfer my shares and property to Scarlett. I agreed.

Second, he wanted me to shut down my couture studio and transfer all business to Scarlett. I also agreed.

As for the third condition...

Damian was holding a fainting Scarlett in his arms, his eyes filled with tormented concern.

"As long as you can get into my brother's bed and convince him to call off his engagement to Scarlett, I'll sign."

I raised an eyebrow and, without a moment's hesitation, signed my name on the agreement.

"As you wish."

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1

Seeing me sign so decisively, Damian frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

"There's nothing to reconsider."

I had endured this for five years. This place was a gilded cage, and I didn't want to stay a second longer.

I gathered my things and got up to leave.

As I turned, Damian called out to me. "Take this."

He handed me a business card with an address on it.

"It's a private club my brother frequents, The Serpent's Kiss."

"Since you've agreed, use every trick in the book to seduce my brother."

"Don't you dare slack off."

A mocking smile played on Damian’s lips as he lifted my chin.

"Help Scarlett get out of this arranged marriage so I can finally be with her, and I swear, our marriage is over."

I took a step back.

"I'll do it."

At the same time, I held up the duplicate copies of the agreement in my hand.

"I just hope you don't regret it when the time comes."

Damian laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Me, regret it?"

"Isabella, you really know how to flatter yourself. Marrying you was the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me."

I froze for a moment, then forced a brittle smile and left without looking back.

Actually, I knew Damian had always hated me.

He believed I had used underhanded tactics to become his wife.

Back then, Damian had been severely injured in a shootout with a rival family.

The Don of the Falcone family had personally promised that whoever saved his son could have any one request granted.

But Damian was critically wounded and delirious; no one dared to attempt the surgery, fearing they would be blamed for the death of the Falcone family's second son.

My father, seizing the opportunity to grant my deepest wish, volunteered to perform the operation.

He was a brilliant surgeon, and after standing in the operating room for a day and a night, he managed to save Damian's life.

My father's request was for Damian to marry me.

The Don of the Falcone family had intended to use his son's marriage to forge alliances with other powerful families.

Naturally, his son Damian was expected to enter into an arranged marriage with another family.

But for a family with a reputation like the Falcones, their word was their bond.

And just like that, I married Damian.

But Damian grew to hate me for it. He believed I had unscrupulously forced my way into his life.

He even suspected that my father had orchestrated the shootout just to tear him and Scarlett apart.

The day before our wedding, he tore my wedding dress to shreds.

On our wedding day, he left me alone in our new home and ran off to see the northern lights with Scarlett.

I thought he just needed time to accept it.

So I waited. I waited for five years.

Now, I was just tired.

All these years, I never tried to defend myself, never explained any of it, but I never imagined his hatred for me would only grow deeper.

So much so that every year on my birthday, he would devise new ways to torture me.

He made me watch just how deeply in love he and Scarlett were.

The catch was, the Falcone family had an old rule: family members could only have one wife and no mistresses.

Therefore, if Damian wanted to make Scarlett his wife, he had to dissolve our marriage.

I had once accidentally overheard Damian talking to his men in the study:

"We can't rush the divorce."

"I need to put a package together for her."

"I need Isabella to walk away on her own terms."

"Otherwise, I'll lose the Old Man's trust."

But Damian.

I don't want your compensation.

And I don't love you anymore.