Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiance, Carlo Romano, has changed the wedding venue from my mother's estate to a villa located in St. Morizia, which happens to be his childhood sweetheart, Adriana Montanari's favorite place in the whole wide world.

When I'm about to confront Carlo, I overhear him complaining to his friend.

"Thank goodness Adriana has a good eye for beauty! Otherwise, I'll definitely get humiliated and mocked by everyone for hosting my wedding at such a rundown place!"

His friend asks, "Didn't you agree to host the wedding ceremony at her late mother's home? Aren't you worried that she might not marry you out of fury once she finds out that you changed the venue without her permission?"

Carlo merely sneered in return.

"Giada's family is insanely weak. Marrying me is her only path out of poverty. She can't risk losing me at all.

"Besides, I've already told the wedding planner to call her and inform her about my decision. She must be booking another flight and rushing toward the new destination as we speak."

Rage and humiliation swirl around in my chest. I gnash my teeth together, but I opt to turn around and walk away in the end.

Three days later, Carlo's wedding goes on as usual at the snow mountain.

But I never bought myself another ticket, nor did I appear at the new wedding venue. Instead, I've exchanged wedding rings with another man in Mom's manor located in Tuscanica.

Carlo fails to realize that I chose to marry him not because I view him as a ticket to wealth. It's purely because I've loved him for 12 long years.

I, Giada Castellani, am bold enough to show my feelings. Since I can enter a relationship, I can always exit it freely.

That's why Carlo is never my one and only choice in marriage.

Giada's POV

Carlo Romano sent me the location of the snowy mountains in St. Morizia, along with a photo. The image captured a sweeping view of the villa. Its white stone walls and black steel framework gave the place a stark, minimalist feel.

However, in the very center of the photo stood Adriana Montanari. Her long golden curls cascade over a white fur coat. I stared at her radiant, smiling face for a few moments. In that instant, I couldn't help but find it all hilarious.

I was the bride. This was the wedding venue Carlo had chosen for us. And yet, the woman at the heart of the photo was his childhood sweetheart—the one he kept insisting was "just a friend".

After that, Carlo went completely silent. I knew him well enough. He must have assumed the wedding planner had already informed me, so he went ahead and sent the address without a second thought. He was probably concerned I might not be aware of the location when rescheduling my flight.

It felt like a stone had lodged itself in my chest. I couldn't comprehend it. He had already agreed to hold the ceremony at my mother's estate, so why did he change it so easily just because Adriana preferred the mountains?

By the time I returned to the estate, darkness had already settled in. I could hear Carlo angrily berating the butler, Vito Lombardi. "Giada isn't a three-year-old. Do you really need to bother me just because she's a little late?"

"But Ms. Castellani left right after receiving a call from the wedding planner today. I'm worried she might act out of anger and—"

Carlo cut him off with a scornful laugh. "She's out dealing with visas and rescheduling flights. With her entire extended family involved, this isn't something that can be handled quickly. Relax. Giada has dreamed of marrying me for as long as she can remember. Without me, she'd fall apart.

"Even if I held the wedding in hell, she'd still drag herself there—let alone the villa in St. Morizia that Adriana had painstakingly picked."

Vito didn't say another word. Meanwhile, Carlo muttered under his breath, "Adriana hasn't replied in five minutes… I need to go check on her."

By the time he drove off, I was already gone. That estate belonged to the Romano family—it was never my home. Carlo had only asked me to move in to make the wedding preparations easier.

At first, we were like any other engaged couple—sweet and inseparable. However, everything changed when Carlo's childhood sweetheart, Adriana, returned to the country after a heartbreak. He claimed he needed to console her. That so-called "consoling" dragged on for four months.

Whenever Adriana said she was upset, he would leave me behind without a word and rush to her side.

I had chosen the wedding dress myself and handled the entire redesign of the estate alone. He didn't take part in any of it.

Every time I voiced my dissatisfaction, he would glance up mid-conversation with Adriana and frown.

"Isn't your family the only reason you want this marriage? I've already agreed. What else is there to complain about?"

The moment Adriana called, he would smile and leave without hesitation, letting my words fade into silence.

"You were the one who proposed first. I only said yes because I loved you…"

In that instant, I went from a woman immersed in the joy of marriage to a lonely bystander. Even now, I had no say in choosing the wedding venue. I spent the night at a friend's place, and Carlo didn't reach out to me once.

The next day, I completed my work handover. The moment I stepped through the door, I heard Adriana laughing. "Snow has to fall from the mountains during the vows. That's what makes it romantic."

Carlo sat beside her. His warm gaze was fixed on her every move. "Si. Whatever you say." It was a tenderness he had never shown me.

Seeing that I had returned, Adriana waved me over. "Giada, come here! I've got the perfect idea for your wedding!"

Before I could even refuse, Carlo grumbled, "What took you so long? Adriana has spent four months on our wedding, and you've done nothing but leave it all to her.

"But honestly, it's better this way. She has much better taste than you do. Your countryside aesthetic would've only made me a source of ridicule among the other mafia families."

In that instant, I felt like nothing more than a spectator again. "I'm tired. I'm going to rest." Ignoring Carlo's furrowed brow, I walked straight toward the guest room.

The moment I shut the door, the message I had refused time and time again surfaced once more: "If you agree, I'm ready to pay any price to steal you from your wedding."

Outside the room, Adriana went on describing her dream wedding amid snow-capped mountains and blooming flowers. Threaded through her words was Carlo's patient, indulgent voice repeating, "Whatever you say."

I let out a bitter laugh and typed back, "There's no need to steal me away. You're my groom."

"Carlo, if you were meant to end up in the snowy mountains, then I'll go to the warm Tuscanica instead. I'll let you go, and I'll finally free myself as well," I mused inwardly.

I spent the whole night tossing and turning. Each time I closed my eyes, I found myself reliving every moment of the past 12 years with Carlo.

I once held a special place in his heart. No matter who said I wasn't good enough for him, he would always stand firmly by my side.

When my mother, Elena Santoro, was still alive, she once patted his hand and entrusted me to him. He nodded deeply. His eyes had been filled with determination. "Please don't worry. I love Giada more than I love myself. I'll never let her suffer any injustice.

"I promise we'll be married at your estate, so you can witness her walking down the aisle with your own eyes!"

The vow he made then was as solid as rock, as if it would never fade. However, I had forgotten that time could erode even the most solemn promises of love.

The day before the wedding, I noticed a white dress in the living room. Its hem was trailing across the floor. A bold red rose was embroidered across the chest.

Adriana came up to me eagerly. "Giada, look! I made this wedding dress for you myself. Carlo said you have a fondness for rustic elegance, so I went out of my way to design it based on vintage photos. It took me ages!"

Even though I had already resolved to move on, I couldn't stop myself from frowning at the sight of this so-called wedding dress.

Seeing my reaction, Adriana froze for a moment and slowly stepped back. "Scusa, Giada. I shouldn't have overstepped and upset you. I just thought you might like this dress… I'll take it apart immediately!"

She then lifted a pair of scissors toward the dress, only for Carlo to burst out of the study and grab them from her. "How many times have I told you not to touch scissors? What if you end up hurting yourself?"

Holding back tears, Adriana spoke in a trembling voice. "Carlo… did I do something wrong? Giada seems upset with me…"

Before I could even explain myself, Carlo fixed me with a stern, grim expression. "Adriana spent four months making this wedding dress for you. Do you have any idea how many nights she stayed up working with the designers?

"Is this how you repay everything she's done for you? If it weren't for her, you wouldn't even have a wedding dress. You'd better apologize!"

Facing his scornful gaze, a surge of amusement rose in my chest. When I had tried to talk to him about the wedding dress before, he had explicitly told me not to disturb him; he wanted to take Adriana to Stalland to help her clear her mind.

Indeed, Adriana had always been far more important to him. When she said she was heartbroken, he had stayed up all night comforting her. On my birthday, he had rented an entire movie theater just so she could watch a romance film.

When I had a high fever from working around the clock, all he said was, "Sleep more and you'll get well." On the other hand, he had arranged for a private doctor to tend to Adriana's minor scrape.

This was my wedding, and I had done everything I was supposed to do. However, with Adriana involved, Carlo had made it seem that she was the one who had handled everything on my behalf.

As a result, the Romano family saw me as someone who avoided responsibility, and they all held me in contempt.

Even now, my wedding dress and Carlo's suit lay untouched in the guest room closet. He hadn't so much as looked at them, and yet he demanded that I apologize to Adriana. The more I thought about it, the deeper my disappointment grew. My face darkened.

Carlo let out a cold laugh. "So, you won't apologize, huh? Fine. The wedding's off. It won't happen until you set things right with her!"

In an instant, I released my tightly clenched hands and looked at him seriously. "Fine."

With that, I went back to my room to pack my things.

According to Luca Rinaldi, the olive trees in Tuscanica had borne fruit. I wanted to go back and see them as soon as possible.

I had planted those trees with my mother, back before my parents had taken me to Firali.

In the living room, Carlo tried to comfort Adriana, yet beneath the surface, a storm of restlessness raged. He shot a glance toward the guest room. Out of Adriana's sight, he sent a message to his assistant, Massimo Greco.

A reply came almost immediately: "Mr. Romano, Ms. Castellani has indeed rescheduled her flight. Would you like me to confirm the details?"

The tension on his face softened, and he texted back, "No, it's fine."

I had just finished packing when Carlo's message arrived: "Since you agreed to marry me, you should work on your temper. Adriana has only wanted what's best for you. How could you upset her like that?

"Anyway, the family will be having lunch at noon. I'll take her there first and have the driver pick you up. Apologize to her afterward, and we'll put this matter behind us. Our wedding is tomorrow. Let's not spoil the mood for everyone."

At the Romano family luncheon, Carlo appeared with Adriana by his side.

As the driver knocked on the door, I took one final look at my luggage. Perhaps this was for the best.

As Carlo had proposed to me in public, it only made sense that I called off the wedding in public too—a true full-circle moment.

When I entered Romano Estate, I noticed everyone fawning over Adriana.

"Giada, over here!" she called, striding toward me in her high heels. She was dressed in a red evening gown—completely matching the one I had chosen for my opening dance.

I instinctively bit my lip. Carlo happened to be coming down the stairs, and as soon as he saw her, his eyes lit up. "Adriana, you look absolutely stunning!"

Her cheeks turned red. "Carlo, stop it! Giada's right here.

"Giada, please don't take it the wrong way. I already feel awful for causing you two to argue at your place this morning."

Carlo couldn't stop looking at her. The admiration in his gaze was unmistakable. He didn't even glance at me; instead, he reached up and gently removed a stray eyelash from under Adriana's eye.

The sight of this had everyone laughing.

Carlo's father, Don Sergio Romano, wore a look of regret. "Adriana and Carlo really do make a better match."

I glanced down at the dark green dress I had on. I wasn't a flawless beauty, yet in the past, Carlo would often call me beautiful and tenderly tuck my hair behind my ear.

On the other side, Adriana complained coquettishly, "Don Romano, please don't say that in front of Giada. She might get upset."

Carlo's mother, Donna Ornella Romano, let out a scoff at the remark.

Carlo finally cast me a glance, though it was clear he wasn't pleased. "My parents have known Adriana since she was little. Can you stop being so petty? And can you stop making a fuss over something like this?

"Mamma was right. Upbringing is everything. You were raised by your mother and only acknowledged by your father's family at 18. It's no surprise you don't have even the slightest sense of manners."

My brows drew together. I couldn't believe Carlo would say something like that about me.

"Carlo, you know how much my mother has done for you. Aren't you afraid you'll break her heart by saying that?"

Carlo felt a flicker of guilt, yet with his entire family present, he quickly forced a scowl. "Anyway, Adriana and I are just childhood friends. Don't let your jealousy push you into upsetting her."

In the end, it all came down to him standing up for Adriana.

I suddenly felt drained. The weight of everything from the past pressed down on me like a mountain, making it hard to breathe.

After a long silence, I began, "I actually came today to say—"

Adriana suddenly cut in, her voice loud and sharp. "Carlo, my best friend wants to go to St. Morizia too. Are there any seats left on the plane?"

Carlo nodded right away. "Si, I'll take care of it."

Massimo hesitated. "Mr. Romano, wasn't the last seat supposed to be reserved for Ms. Castellani—"

"Ah, then forget it. I wouldn't want to upset Giada—"

Unable to tolerate Adriana feeling slighted, Carlo made up his mind at once. "Giada can take another flight. Adriana's friend isn't familiar with the place. She has to travel with us."

Adriana's face lit up with joy. She grabbed his arm, swinging it lightly. "Carlo, I just knew you'd treat me better than anyone!"

With that, everyone's gaze toward me grew even more disdainful.

"For the wedding, Carlo even had the airline arrange two exclusive direct flights for us. But in the end, the bride won't be on board."

"What's the big deal? Giada is only marrying him to secure a family alliance. Forget the other flights—she'd walk there if she had to."

The air around me was thick with mockery. Meanwhile, Carlo's gaze remained entirely on Adriana. He didn't hear a word I said. In the end, I was nothing more than someone watching from the sidelines.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I turned and left. I decided to hold off on canceling the wedding for now.

As I walked away, something around Adriana's neck caught my eye—a gold necklace. A daisy-shaped diamond pendant hung from it.

For a moment, my mind went blank. "Where did you get that diamond?"