The Don of the Volpe family, Vincenzo Volpe, was stunned to hear I wanted to marry Caius. But considering his son had been in a wheelchair for years, he knew this might be Caius's only chance at marriage. No other woman from a respectable family would have him.

So, Vincenzo agreed to my request, even offering a generous portion of the family's assets as a dowry.

As our two families discussed the wedding arrangements, I glanced out the study window and saw Caius in his wheelchair. He was in the estate's garden, engrossed in a book.

Though I could only see his profile, it was strikingly handsome, and his gray eyes, deep as wells, were mesmerizing. I found myself staring.

Suddenly, a heavy gardening cart came barreling out from the shadows of the bushes. I held my breath as Caius launched himself from his wheelchair, rolling clear of the collision before deftly settling back into the seat as if nothing had happened.

My heart pounded. Weren't his legs crippled? How could he move?

I blinked, certain I had imagined it. When I looked again, he was sitting quietly, as if he hadn't moved at all. Was I seeing things?

The wedding details were quickly finalized. Afterward, I went back to the villa I shared with Silas to pack my things.

When I pushed open the door, I found Odessa sitting on the living room sofa, wearing the gown I had custom-made for an important gala.

Odessa smirked at me. "Oh, Alessia, you're back. Silas says you make a killer martini. I'm dying of thirst. Be a dear and mix one for me, will you?"

I ignored her and strode toward my bedroom.

Just then, Silas appeared, his face darkening when he saw me ignore her.

"Alessia, Odessa just wanted to taste your handiwork. She meant no harm. You're supposed to be the future Donna of the Volpe family. How can you be so petty? How can I trust you to run this household?"

"Silas, don't be so harsh," Odessa cooed, clutching his sleeve with a practiced innocence. "It's my fault, really. I should have called. If Alessia isn't comfortable with me here, I can just leave."

She started for the door, but Silas caught her arm. "How could anyone not like you? You're so charming and sweet. Look, I even brought you a present."

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and pressed them into Odessa's hand. "My lawyer drew up the papers for you—it's a condo in a prime location. You can watch the wedding from your own balcony. You'll have the best seat in the house."

Odessa took the keys, her face beaming. "This must have been so expensive."

Silas stroked her hair dotingly. "It's nothing. Just a condo. Anything for you is worth it."

I paid them no mind, a leaden weight settling in my stomach as I walked to the kitchen.

The last time, Odessa had complained that her bridesmaid dress wasn't as beautiful as my wedding gown, so Silas had forced me to change into a simpler dress.

He had told me then, "Alessia, darling, Odessa is sensitive about her humble origins. That dress of yours is too extravagant; it will only make her feel inadequate. Besides, you look beautiful in anything."

I believed him and gave up the gown I had spent months choosing. I never imagined he had secretly bought Odessa a condo behind my back.

At dinner, Silas asked casually, "Have you gone over the wedding arrangements?"

I nodded.

A flash of displeasure crossed his face. He pressed, "Did you check the signature on the marriage contract? It's a family tradition. We can't have any mistakes."

I feigned ignorance. "I've checked everything. It's all in order."

Silas was about to press further, but Odessa interrupted him. She pointed to a faded trident crest on his arm. "Silas, that Marino family crest is so pretty. It would be even more stunning if my name was tattooed there to match my dress."

Silas’s expression tightened. That tattoo wasn't just ink; it was a symbol of his bond with my family, a mark of honor. To alter it was a grave insult, a sign of broken fealty.

He met Odessa's expectant gaze, then turned to me, his expression a mask of strained apology. "Alessia, darling, I know how much that crest meant. But Odessa… she wanted a symbol of my affection too. After we're married, I swear, I'll make it up to you. A bigger surprise."

The man I was marrying wasn't Silas anyway, so the tattoo meant nothing to me now. But as my eyes fell on it, a flood of memories rushed back.

Years ago, he had pointed to that tattoo and sworn that my family's mark would be the only one on his body. Now, for another woman, he was ready to erase it.

My gaze fell to the spot on his arm. Now, where my family's trident had been, there was only a blurry, scarred patch of skin from laser removal, already covered by a garish rose for Odessa. He tugged his jacket sleeve down, trying to hide the disfigured skin. "On our wedding day," he said, "I'll give you a proper explanation."

In that moment, the tattoo that had captivated me for years lost its magic. Along with it, the man who had held me captive for so long.

"You're right," I said flatly. "I'm not the Donna yet. It's none of my business."

Silas hadn't expected me to concede so easily. A troubled look crossed his face.

Then, he repeated, "I promise. On the wedding day, you'll get a perfect explanation."

A flash of jealousy crossed Odessa's face at his words.

I didn't answer him. I just watched as Silas pulled his jacket sleeve down to cover the scarred skin.

I put down my utensils and asked seriously, "Silas, since I have no opinion on the tattoo, shouldn't you return the heirloom pocket watch my father gave you?"

Silas stared at me in disbelief. "You want the watch back? What is that supposed to mean? Are you calling off the wedding?"

I almost laughed out loud. Who was the one who didn't want this marriage? But I held it in, desperate to preserve what little dignity I had left and not sound like a scorned woman.

I just said calmly, "I just don't think it's appropriate for you to carry it anymore."

Silas ripped the pocket watch from his vest and slammed it on the table in front of me. "Fine. It's not appropriate. It was time for a new one anyway."

With that, he threw down his napkin, took Odessa's hand, and stormed out.

My fingers gently traced the cool metal of the watch. It had been my father's symbol of acceptance. Since Silas didn't cherish it, he would never get a second chance.

In the following days, I threw myself into the wedding preparations. I didn't see Silas once, nor did he call.

The long hours of work and stress caused my back injury to flare up again. With my usual physical therapist unavailable, the throbbing pain finally drove me to a private clinic for relief.

My vision blurred. I was staggering down the hallway, one hand on the wall for balance, when a familiar voice cut through the haze.

"The doctor said you're fine, don't worry," Silas said softly.

I looked up and saw him in the waiting area, holding Odessa in his arms. I hadn't seen such tenderness in his eyes in a long time.

Odessa leaned against his chest, feigning weakness. "My stomach hurts so much. I think I'll need to rest for a few days. But your wedding is in three days. How can I not be there as your bridesmaid?"

Silas gently stroked her hair. "Don't worry about that. The wedding can wait. Your health is what's most important."

Watching them, I couldn't help but let out a cold, bitter laugh.

When I got home, I found Silas on the phone, arranging to postpone the venue. He noticed me and frowned.

He asked, "Back hurting again?"

I managed a grunt of agreement.

He glanced at his phone, his hesitation brief. "I have to go to the port—it's business. We'll have to postpone the wedding again. Too much is happening with the family right now."

I kept my voice flat. "You're going to see Odessa, aren't you?"