His Fake Wedding, My Real Love

The wedding was imminent, but my fiancé wanted to marry the female college student I had been sponsoring.

It was all because she said her mother, back in the countryside, was gravely ill and hoped to see her daughter married before she passed.

But during the years when Niccolo Krenn was at his lowest, it was me who stood by his side, supporting him without complaint. This wedding was supposed to be mine.

When I confronted Niccolo, my eyes red with frustration, questioning why he was turning his back on me, he only looked at me with reproach.

"You can't just let Catalina marry some random guy, can you? She treats you like a sister and yet you're being so selfish and heartless!"

He was so sure I wouldn't leave him and even had the audacity to ask me to wait for him for another two years.

On the day of his wedding to Catalina Orozco, Niccolo was upset by my absence.

But his people quickly informed him, "Seraphina got married. She's on her honeymoon with her new husband."

……………………………………

I called my mother that day.

"Mom, I'm coming home. Let's work together."

There was a brief silence on the other end before she asked in surprise,

"You're not marrying Niccolo?"

I lowered my eyes and tightened my grip on the phone.

After a moment, I answered firmly,

"No. I don't want him anymore."

Why?

Because my fiancé, Niccolo, was preparing to marry another woman.

Just then, the door to my room swung open without warning.

Catalina walked in with a bright smile on her face.

"Seraphina, will you come with me to pick out my wedding gown?"

I frowned immediately.

"Do you not know how to knock before entering someone else's room?"

My words made her expression falter at once. Her eyes reddened as she looked at me with practiced innocence.

"Seraphina, I was just too excited. Please don't be angry..."

I let out a silent, cold laugh.

What a familiar act.

Feigning innocence had always been her greatest talent.

After all, she had every reason to be excited.

"You don't need to apologize," I said indifferently.

Before I could continue, a low, familiar voice sounded from behind her.

"You're about to be the woman of this house. You can do whatever you want."

Niccolo stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame.

His tall figure filled the narrow hallway, just as his presence had always filled every corner of this Edinburgh flat.

The same flat my family's money had paid for.

Catalina immediately lowered her head, her cheeks flushing.

"Niccolo, don't say that. If Seraphina gets upset, she might refuse to come with me to choose the dress."

"Whether she comes or not is her choice."

His voice remained cold and detached.

Then he casually wrapped an arm around Catalina's shoulders.

"I'll go with you."

The two of them left together.

As I watched their retreating figures disappear down the hallway, it felt as though an entire lifetime had passed before my eyes.

Only three months ago, I had been the one planning a wedding with Niccolo.

We met because of our families.

When Niccolo was fourteen, his father was killed in a turf dispute. His mother, Donna, raised him alone in one of Edinburgh's rougher boroughs.

He had no name.

No territory.

No powerful patron backing him.

The only thing he possessed was an ambition fierce enough to burn through anything standing in its way.

I still remembered the first time I saw him.

My father had hosted a sit-down in London.

Among a room full of seasoned men, Niccolo stood quietly in the corner, young and sharp-eyed, carrying himself with a confidence that didn't belong to someone with so little.

I fell for him almost instantly.

The kind of certainty only the very young and the very foolish mistake for forever.

For him, I defied my parents.

After finishing school, I chose to stay in Edinburgh instead of returning home.

We lived in a cramped flat above a chip shop on Leith Walk.

Every morning, we were up before six.

Every night, we didn't return until after nine.

We came home carrying the smell of cigarette smoke, cheap whisky, and the desperation of men chasing power.

Life was difficult.

But back then, we were happy.

At least, I thought we were.

In those days, Niccolo promised that once he made a name for himself, he would propose.

Later, I used my family's connections to help him expand his operation.

I opened doors that only my surname could open.

I vouched for him when influential people in London wouldn't even return his calls.

When his position finally stabilized, he promised we would get married.

Two years later, when he controlled enough territory to sit at the same table as men twice his age, he promised me a grand wedding.

Then, at the beginning of this year, he finally proposed.

At that moment, I truly believed we would spend the rest of our lives together.

I thought we would grow old side by side.

Until Catalina appeared.

Only then did I realize how foolish I had been.

How foolish it was to give up everything in silence and call it love.

Catalina came from a small town in the south.

She was the daughter of a deceased associate's widow.

Years ago, I had quietly sponsored her education.

It was a simple act of charity, the kind my mother always taught me a woman of standing should do without seeking recognition.

Somehow, Catalina learned my address after graduating.

She came all the way to Edinburgh.

Standing at my doorstep, she cried and told me she had nowhere else to go.

She begged me to let her stay for just a few days.

Seeing how pitiful she looked, Niccolo agreed.

Not only did he allow her to stay, but he also arranged a position for her within his operation, managing the books for one of his front businesses.

At first, he complained about her constantly.

"A nobody from nowhere."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't waste my time on her."

But gradually, things began to change.

I watched him become more and more attached to her.

He still criticized her clumsiness.

Still scolded her for being inexperienced and constantly making mistakes.

Yet behind those harsh words, his actions told an entirely different story.

He personally corrected her ledger entries.

He ignored the gossip spreading among his crew.

He drove her to work and picked her up afterward.

He let her nap in his private office whenever she was tired.

And whenever someone questioned her place within the organization, he quietly stepped in to smooth things over.

Little by little, without realizing it, he gave her every privilege that once belonged only to me.