I was getting married.

But the man I had spent eight years loving had no idea.

Lately, Adrian had been completely absorbed by his new personal assistant, Julian.

She had appeared in Varano territory six months ago, claiming to be a distant relative of a long-fallen southern family. No one could verify her story, yet Adrian welcomed her without hesitation. From the very beginning, they seemed to connect effortlessly. Their laughter echoed through the compound halls day after day, as though neither of them remembered I was there.

For Julian's birthday, Adrian personally ordered a ten-layer hazelnut torte from a famous bakery on Arthur Avenue. He knew I was severely allergic to tree nuts, yet somehow that fact had slipped his mind. At the celebration, Julian smeared frosting across his cheek, and Adrian laughed as he returned the favor. The two of them played around like carefree children while the room applauded, completely forgetting I was there.

No one noticed me.

……

No one noticed when the sweet scent of hazelnut reached me.

My throat tightened instantly, my chest seizing as panic surged through my body. I stumbled backward, knocking over a chair as I fought to reach the door. My lungs screamed for air, but every breath became harder than the last. The primal terror of suffocation clawed through me.

Before anyone realized something was wrong, darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke up, I was lying in the compound's small medical room, surrounded by first-aid supplies and the sharp smell of antiseptic. A bitter ache spread through my chest.

That was the moment I finally agreed to the arranged marriage my family had suggested years ago.

My mother wasted no time. The second I returned to my room in the east wing and locked the door behind me, my phone began vibrating nonstop. Wedding plans, venue options, guest arrangements—dozens of messages flooded my screen.

I scrolled through them until my eyes landed on the last one.

"I always knew Adrian was never going to marry you properly. If he truly wanted to register your union before the Commission, why would he make you wait eight years?

"It's not too late, Seraphina. Everything has already been prepared.

"The wedding is in three days. Take your time packing. There's no need to rush."

I stared at the screen for a long moment.

The truth had become impossible to ignore. While I stubbornly clung to Adrian's promises, everyone around us had already seen through them.

Everyone except me.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I pressed the voice-message button.

"Mom, just choose whatever you think is best. I trust you. Let's keep everything simple."

I didn't hear Adrian approach. The bedroom door had been left slightly open, and apparently he had overheard enough.

His voice cut through the silence.

"Wedding? What wedding?"

My body stiffened, and I instinctively hid my phone. But Adrian was already reaching for it.

Before he could take it from me, his own phone suddenly rang. The sharp ringtone shattered the tension, and a frightened female voice burst through the speaker, loud enough for me to hear every word.

"Adrian! Someone's following me! I'm scared. I tried doubling back through the east side, but they're still there!"

Julian.

Adrian's expression changed instantly. His jaw tightened, and the concern in his eyes was immediate and unmistakable.

"Julian, go to the restaurant on Mulberry. Stay somewhere crowded. I'm on my way."

Without another word, he grabbed his coat from the hook and rushed out into the night.

The door slammed shut behind him.

I remained standing exactly where I was, my face calm. Only the twisting pain in my stomach betrayed what I truly felt.

Seraphina's POV

Just as Zia Rosalia stepped off the porch to greet me, she paused mid-stride, her sharp gaze flicking between me and the pair standing nearby. I knew exactly what she wanted to say, so I cut her off before she could speak.

"Mom sent these supplies for you," I said. "Make sure to sort through them soon. Some of them won't keep for very long."

I didn't spare Adrian—my so-called husband—a glance. Over the past few weeks, he'd made his priorities painfully clear. Yet today, he surprised me by speaking first, his tone deliberately calm.

"Seraphina, don't misunderstand. Julian's old apartment was too close to the border of unaffiliated territory. I couldn't leave her there without protection, so I found her a safer place nearby. I didn't realize it was this close to your aunt's building. By the way, what's with all these boxes?"

As I directed the driver to carry the crates into Zia Rosalia's kitchen, I replied casually, "You don't need to explain anything to me, Adrian. My mom bought these supplies. We don't know when we'll be back, so she sent extra."

The moment the words left my mouth, I saw him visibly relax. The relief in his expression only made the irritation in my chest deepen.

"No problem. The North Ridge safe house isn't far from here. If you need anything, just let me know."

He spoke as though nothing had changed between us, as though we were still close enough to exchange casual concern.

What he didn't know was that I wasn't leaving.

I was staying here for good.

And I had no intention of telling him.

Zia Rosalia, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. Her thumb brushed against the inside of her wedding ring, turning it once before she found the right words.

"Adrian, you've known Seraphina for so long. Is this really how things are between you now? It would be a shame to let misunderstandings destroy everything you've built together."

Before Adrian could answer, I shook my head.

"There's no misunderstanding, Zia. Adrian has never been the type to let one linger. If he hasn't explained himself by now, then there's nothing left worth explaining."

Julian shifted awkwardly beside him. The movement immediately drew Adrian's attention.

"You look pale," he said softly, concern instantly coloring his voice.

Then he turned toward the driver.

"Hold the deliveries for now. We'll take the elevator up first."

Watching him fuss over her, I silently stepped aside.

Adrian hesitated for the briefest moment, his gaze flickering toward me as if waiting for a reaction. But when I said nothing, he quickly followed Julian into the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, I caught a glimpse of their reflection in the polished metal. Julian's grateful smile. Adrian's protective posture.

The sight stirred an old memory.

Years ago, when Adrian first brought me into the Varano household, he'd looked at me the same way. He had carried my belongings himself, smiling with a warmth that rarely surfaced, proudly introducing me as the future Lady of the Varano House.

How ironic.

Zia Rosalia sighed softly beside me.

"Are you really okay with this, Seraphina?"

I turned toward her and forced a small smile.

"What choice do I have? If this is where his loyalty belongs, then so be it."

After helping unload the supplies, I decided to leave before my patience wore any thinner. Yet while I stood outside waiting for the driver, Adrian and Julian remained upstairs, and for some reason that fact continued to gnaw at me.

Out of courtesy for everything we once shared, I pulled out my phone and sent him a brief message.

"When are you heading back?"

The reply came almost instantly.

Not a text.

A voice message.

I tapped play.

Julian's sweet, delicate voice immediately filled my ears.

"Seraphina, Adrian's helping me fix the wiring in the apartment. No one's lived here for a while, so there's a lot that needs sorting out. You should head home first. Don't wait around because of us."

I stared at the screen for several seconds before quietly closing the chat.

A strange sense of pity rose in my chest.

Not for her.

For myself.

But I swallowed it down.

As I climbed into the waiting car, another message arrived.

"By the way, Seraphina, please don't misunderstand. Adrian's only helping me because he feels bad for me. It's hard being alone in a new territory."

I stared at the words.

The meaning behind them couldn't have been clearer.

She wanted me to know how much she relied on him.

And how willingly he showed up every time she called.

A few moments later, Adrian called.

I answered.

His voice was sharp with obvious displeasure.

"Seraphina, why were you so cold to Julian earlier? She's under my protection, and it's my responsibility to make sure she's safe. Her situation is only temporary until we find somewhere permanent for her to stay. Isn't it normal for me to help her?"

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Since when do you go out of your way for your people? At the Christmas dinner, you left halfway through because you claimed you weren't feeling well. I didn't question it. But now you're willing to do all this for her?"

For a moment, silence filled the line.

Then I heard soft sobbing in the background.

Julian.

Even her crying sounded carefully measured, fragile enough to inspire sympathy.

"Adrian... maybe I should leave," she whispered. "I don't want to come between you and Seraphina."

Adrian's voice immediately softened.

"No one's leaving, Julian. Don't listen to her."

The protective edge in his tone cut deeper than he probably realized.

My chest tightened.

He hadn't spoken to me like that in years.

I closed my eyes briefly and forced every emotion back down.

"Fine, Adrian. You're right. My mistake for asking."

I paused before adding quietly,

"Don't worry. I've already left. You don't need to come back for me."

Then I ended the call before he could say another word, silencing whatever explanation—or excuse—he had been about to give.

Seraphina's POV

My indifferent response immediately silenced Adrian. Whatever he had intended to say seemed to catch in his throat. I didn't wait for an answer. Ending the call, I leaned back against the passenger seat and stared out at the dark streets rushing past the window as the car sped toward Castellano territory.

The moment I stepped out of the car, an inexplicable heaviness settled in my chest. The compound was unusually quiet. Security lights cast pale halos across the gravel driveway, while the night air carried the scent of cold stone and distant rain. The stillness felt almost deliberate, as if the house itself sensed the turmoil I was trying so hard to suppress.

A sudden vibration from my phone pulled me back to reality.

The Family's private channel was exploding with activity. The unread notifications had piled up into an impossible number.

Curiosity got the better of me.

When I opened the channel, the first thing that appeared on my screen was a photo Julian had posted.

In the picture, Adrian was kneeling in a cramped apartment, his sleeves rolled to his forearms as he worked on a junction box. His shirt clung to his body from the effort, highlighting the broad shoulders and strong arms that had once belonged entirely to my memories.

My stomach twisted.

"Who else has a Boss this considerate?" Julian had written beneath the photo. "I'd devote my entire life to the Family's prosperity! Can I sign a lifetime contract?"

The comments below flooded in almost instantly.

"I've never seen the Boss like this before. So much for everyone calling him a perfectionist."

"Look at those arms. Pretty sure he could fix a lot more than just wiring."

"Julian, stop showing off. We all know you're going to be the future Lady of the House."

I tightened my grip around my phone until the case creaked beneath my fingers.

She was weaving her web perfectly, tying herself to Adrian in every visible way.

The cruelest part was that I recognized the pattern.

Years ago, when I stood beside him, Adrian had done the exact same thing. Photos of Sunday dinners. Walks around the estate. Quiet evenings spent together at the social club. Back then, every post felt like proof that our future was certain.

I had truly believed nothing could come between us.

Now, I had become little more than a shadow lingering in his past, while Julian stood exactly where I once had, basking in the warmth of his attention.

I exited the channel and silenced the notifications.

The decision I'd made felt more right than ever.

Even so, a sharp ache still clawed at my chest.

Shaking off the feeling, I stepped into the quarters that had been my home for nearly eight years. Every corner carried traces of the life I had built there. Memories lingered in the walls, the furniture, the photographs arranged carefully on the mantel.

But tonight, I was leaving it all behind.

As I packed my belongings, my gaze drifted toward the large leather-bound album resting on the coffee table.

It was ours.

A tradition Adrian had insisted on maintaining.

Every photograph inside captured a moment from the years we had spent together. He had once promised to give me 9,999 memories before officially registering our marriage with the Commission. He wanted me to choose him willingly, not because our families had arranged it, but because of the devotion he had spent years proving.

The album was nearly full.

Only a single blank page remained.

Yet now, every promise preserved between those pages felt hollow.

Meaningless.

Whatever future those photographs once represented had long since been replaced by the reality of Julian.

Sadness twisted into anger.

The anger sharpened into resolve.

Without hesitation, I picked up the album and carried it into the courtyard where Family gatherings were often held around the stone fire pit.

The floodlights cast long shadows across the flagstones as I crouched down and lit a fire.

When the flames finally caught, I placed the album onto the growing blaze.

The leather darkened.

The pages curled.

Photographs blackened and disappeared beneath the fire.

Smoke drifted upward into the night sky, carrying away years of love, promises, and heartbreak.

Adrian arrived only moments later.

I sensed him before I saw him.

His cologne.

His footsteps.

The familiar presence that had once been enough to calm me.

Now it meant nothing.

He froze at the edge of the courtyard, his eyes locking onto the burning album.

For the first time in a long while, I saw genuine panic flash across his face.

"What are you doing?!"

His roar shattered the night, carrying all the authority of a Don accustomed to being obeyed.

I didn't move.

His authority no longer held any power over me.

Adrian rushed toward the fire and tried to pull the album free, but the flames had already consumed most of it. He hissed as the heat scorched his hands, the skin reddening instantly. Even so, he continued stomping at the fire, desperately trying to save whatever remained.

When the last flames finally died, he turned toward me.

His eyes burned with fury.

"Have you lost your mind?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Years of memories—gone. Why, Seraphina? Why would you do this?"

I met his gaze calmly.

For the first time, I felt no urge to back down.

"Because memories mean nothing when the promises attached to them are broken."

My voice remained steady.

"You promised me 9,999 reasons to choose you. But before we even reached the end, you gave everything that should have belonged to us to someone else."

His jaw tightened.

At his side, his hand opened and closed repeatedly.

"You're misunderstanding. Julian—"

"Julian," I interrupted calmly, "has only taken what you've allowed her to take."

His expression froze.

"You think I don't see what's happening? The photos in the Family channel. The comments. The way she clings to you every chance she gets."

I took a slow breath.

"It's all intentional. And you've allowed every bit of it."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes.

Guilt.

Uncertainty.

Regret.

He took a step closer, his voice softening.

"Ellie, it's not what you think. She's Family. As Boss, I have responsibilities—"

"Don't."

I raised a hand and cut him off.

"Don't insult me by pretending this is about Family business."

The courtyard fell silent.

I looked directly into his eyes.

"You made your choice, Adrian."

A faint smile touched my lips.

"Now I'm making mine."