Patrick Grimaldi was kissing me, his head bowed low in his family’s private wine cellar, when my Mamma’s text lit up my phone, informing me of my arranged marriage. He pulled me flush against him, our bodies molding together.

After a dizzying kiss, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the antique bathtub. The warm water lapped at my skin, but his words plunged me into an ice-cold dread.

"Go home. And don't come looking for me here again."

I thought he was just angry about the marriage. I wrapped my arms around him, vowing, "I won't marry anyone else—"

The smile on his lips didn't fade, but the warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cool distance.

"But I'm getting married."

He brushed my damp hair from my face, his touch detached and cool, ignoring the violent tremor that seized my body.

"My fiancée is of pure blood, noble and elegant—nothing like you. She would never be so shameless as to seduce the man who is all but her brother while her own father lies in his grave. Our wedding date is set. If you continue to cause a scene, you'll only bring disgrace upon the Valenti name."

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1

Patrick wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving me alone in the small, hidden room just off the cellar.

As I watched his retreating form, a paralyzing cold seeped into my veins.

I was still staring at the empty doorway when he reappeared.

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed, and the familiar warmth of his body radiated toward me once more.

I instinctively reached for him.

Instead, he pressed a cold dagger into my palm.

"Since Mamma has already contacted you, you should go home. Let's not drag this out."

Panicked, I clutched at his hand, my voice a desperate whisper. "Patrick, I won't agree to the marriage."

"Juliana is back."

At his words, my throat closed, and hot tears burned trails down my cheeks.

Juliana Petrov was Patrick's fiancée.

When she had vanished years ago, Patrick had sunk into a deep depression.

It was because of his pain that, at my father's funeral, I had finally found the courage to kiss him.

From then on, we were dutiful step-siblings by day and secret lovers by night.

More than once, I had secretly rejoiced—thank God Juliana was gone.

I never imagined someone who had disappeared so completely would just… return.

Patrick stood, looming over me.

"Try to stay out of her sight from now on. I don't want any unnecessary trouble."

His eyes were cold, but when he spoke of Juliana, his voice held a reverence he had never once shown me.

My vision blurred with fresh tears. I snatched a nearby dress, scrambled into it, and fled.

Just as I reached the door, Patrick's indifferent voice drifted after me.

"Rebecca, here's to our happy marriages."

My heart seized in my chest.

Once, those were the only words I had ever wanted to hear from him.

I just never imagined it would be about him marrying someone else, and me marrying someone else, too.

After replying to my Mamma's message, I began to pack.

My gaze fell on the black obsidian bracelet he had given me. Memories of our time together flooded my mind, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free.

Patrick was five years older than me.

I had watched him get engaged to Juliana, watched him suffer when she disappeared, and finally, watched them drift apart.

He had been in so much pain, drowning himself in alcohol day after day.

My heart ached for him.

It was then that I realized my feelings for him had long since crossed the line from sisterly affection into something else entirely.

I devoted myself to cheering him up. Though his eyes remained haunted, he'd push through his own pain to reassure me.

"I'm fine, Rebecca. Don't worry."

I loved his gentleness, but I was no longer satisfied with just that.

Until one night, when he was drunk again, I gathered my courage and pressed my lips to his.

That night was painful—and blissful.

But the next morning, I found him kneeling on the floor, his eyes bloodshot with self-loathing.

When he saw I was awake, his expression twisted with disgust.

"Rebecca, how could you be so shameless?"

He said the cruelest things, told me he never wanted to see me again.

I fled the house and drank myself into oblivion.

When a friend helped me back, I saw Patrick kneeling before my father's casket, smashing his own hand over and over with the butt of a gun.

I rushed forward to stop him.

He looked at me, his eyes brimming with regret.

I pulled him into my room and, buoyed by the lingering alcohol, my fingers fumbled for his belt buckle.

"Patrick… this isn't your fault. The sin will be mine."

He pulled me into his arms, offering no resistance.

From that moment on, we were siblings in public, lovers in private.

I thought that one day, our secret would come to light.

I never understood until today… it was all just my own wishful thinking.

I packed my bags, slung the strap over my shoulder, and walked out of the house.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard Patrick's voice.

"Before you go, join us for Juliana's welcome dinner."

I followed the sound of his voice and saw, for the first time, the woman standing behind him.

Juliana smiled gently. "Rebecca, long time no see."

I forced a stiff smile. "Juliana."

She drew closer and took my hand, speaking softly about her life over the past few years.

But she ended every story the same way: “And I thought about Patrick every single day.”

I forced a smile and nodded along.

Then Juliana leaned in closer, her tone playful yet sharp. "Rebecca, tell me… has Patrick been hiding any little playthings all these years?"

A subtle challenge laced her voice as her gaze flickered to the unique black obsidian bracelet on my wrist.

I flinched, pulling my wrist back before I could think.

Juliana raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Maybe Patrick hasn't been dating… but it looks like you have a boyfriend?"

Patrick sat on the bench beside her, a low laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Rebecca is engaged to Stewart Callahan from Chicago. We'll all be there to celebrate."

Their effortless intimacy cast them as gracious hosts and me as an unwelcome guest.

I couldn't stand it a second longer. Panic rising, I shot to my feet.

"Patrick… I—I should get going."

Juliana paused, studying me for a moment, then rose gracefully. "Your bag looks heavy. Let me walk you out."

Before I could refuse, she was at my side, linking her arm with mine and leading me outside.

Along the way, she chattered about the fun times she and Patrick used to share.

We didn't stop until we reached a deserted terrace.

“Patrick seems cold, but he’s a soft touch. So soft, he can’t even say no when some little nobody throws herself at him.”

She pointed at the bracelet on my wrist, her smile twisting into a sneer.

"Rebecca… you're not the kind of cheap trash who covets the family heir, are you?"

The color drained from my face. I was rooted to the spot.

But Juliana just chuckled softly.

Then, in an instant, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself backward against the railing.

I stared, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"Rebecca! I know you're jealous of me, but you can't just push me!"

Before I could react, a sharp slap cracked through the air, and a burning pain exploded across my cheek.

I looked at Patrick in disbelief.

He froze, staring at his own hand as if it had betrayed him. "Rebecca, I…"

Before he could finish, fresh tears welled in Juliana's eyes.

"Patrick… maybe I shouldn't have come back. It's all my fault… If Rebecca hates me this much, maybe I should just leave."

She pushed him away, pretending to turn and run.

Patrick immediately pulled her back into his arms, his voice trembling as he soothed her.

"Juliana, I'm sorry… I never should have left you alone with her."

His voice shook with a raw fear and regret he had never once shown for me.

The sting on my cheek spread, and the reality of the situation crashed down on me.

"Patrick… I didn't push her!"

I tried to defend myself.

But Patrick's eyes were filled with disappointment.

"Are you saying Juliana threw herself against the railing? Apologize to her. If you do, I’ll allow you and your mother to remain under the family’s protection."

I went completely numb. I stubbornly sealed my lips, refusing to say a word.

Patrick’s expression turned glacial.

I looked at the face that had made my heart flutter countless times—and suddenly, I just felt tired.

In that moment, any yearning I once had to spend my life with him evaporated. All I wanted was to escape.

So I turned to Juliana. "Juliana… I'm sorry."

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise.

I had never bowed my head to anyone. This was the first time.

Juliana sobbed softly, tugging on Patrick's sleeve. "Patrick, I don't want to see her again. Let's go back and rest."

Patrick snapped back to reality, quickly taking her hand and turning to leave.

I stood frozen, watching them walk back to the main house, the one reserved for the family heir.

Patrick kissed Juliana tenderly.

Juliana wrapped her arms around his waist and began to unbutton his suit. The air crackled with the long-simmering passion between them.

Then, the heavy door clicked shut.