Everyone in Chicago knows that on the eighth of June every year, every flower shop in the city sells out.

That's because it's my birthday.

For five years of our arranged marriage, Damian has bought out all the flowers in the city to celebrate my birthday.

Everyone says he loves me more than life itself, envying our storybook romance.

But no one knows that on every one of my birthdays, my hands would be stained with blood as I knelt on the floor, arranging flower petals into a red carpet for his mistress, Scarlett.

And after Damian and Scarlett's passionate trysts, I would be the one to bring them champagne.

"Isabella, if your father hadn't used the life debt I owed him to blackmail me, Scarlett would have been my wife years ago."

"This is your punishment."

After five years, I couldn't bear it anymore.

When I proposed a divorce, Damian looked at me in astonishment.

Then he sneered, saying he would set me free only if I agreed to three conditions.

First, he wanted me to transfer my shares and property to Scarlett. I agreed.

Second, he wanted me to shut down my couture studio and transfer all business to Scarlett. I also agreed.

As for the third condition...

Damian was holding a fainting Scarlett in his arms, his eyes filled with tormented concern.

"As long as you can get into my brother's bed and convince him to call off his engagement to Scarlett, I'll sign."

I raised an eyebrow and, without a moment's hesitation, signed my name on the agreement.

"As you wish."

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1

Seeing me sign so decisively, Damian frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

"There's nothing to reconsider."

I had endured this for five years. This place was a gilded cage, and I didn't want to stay a second longer.

I gathered my things and got up to leave.

As I turned, Damian called out to me. "Take this."

He handed me a business card with an address on it.

"It's a private club my brother frequents, The Serpent's Kiss."

"Since you've agreed, use every trick in the book to seduce my brother."

"Don't you dare slack off."

A mocking smile played on Damian’s lips as he lifted my chin.

"Help Scarlett get out of this arranged marriage so I can finally be with her, and I swear, our marriage is over."

I took a step back.

"I'll do it."

At the same time, I held up the duplicate copies of the agreement in my hand.

"I just hope you don't regret it when the time comes."

Damian laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Me, regret it?"

"Isabella, you really know how to flatter yourself. Marrying you was the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me."

I froze for a moment, then forced a brittle smile and left without looking back.

Actually, I knew Damian had always hated me.

He believed I had used underhanded tactics to become his wife.

Back then, Damian had been severely injured in a shootout with a rival family.

The Don of the Falcone family had personally promised that whoever saved his son could have any one request granted.

But Damian was critically wounded and delirious; no one dared to attempt the surgery, fearing they would be blamed for the death of the Falcone family's second son.

My father, seizing the opportunity to grant my deepest wish, volunteered to perform the operation.

He was a brilliant surgeon, and after standing in the operating room for a day and a night, he managed to save Damian's life.

My father's request was for Damian to marry me.

The Don of the Falcone family had intended to use his son's marriage to forge alliances with other powerful families.

Naturally, his son Damian was expected to enter into an arranged marriage with another family.

But for a family with a reputation like the Falcones, their word was their bond.

And just like that, I married Damian.

But Damian grew to hate me for it. He believed I had unscrupulously forced my way into his life.

He even suspected that my father had orchestrated the shootout just to tear him and Scarlett apart.

The day before our wedding, he tore my wedding dress to shreds.

On our wedding day, he left me alone in our new home and ran off to see the northern lights with Scarlett.

I thought he just needed time to accept it.

So I waited. I waited for five years.

Now, I was just tired.

All these years, I never tried to defend myself, never explained any of it, but I never imagined his hatred for me would only grow deeper.

So much so that every year on my birthday, he would devise new ways to torture me.

He made me watch just how deeply in love he and Scarlett were.

The catch was, the Falcone family had an old rule: family members could only have one wife and no mistresses.

Therefore, if Damian wanted to make Scarlett his wife, he had to dissolve our marriage.

I had once accidentally overheard Damian talking to his men in the study:

"We can't rush the divorce."

"I need to put a package together for her."

"I need Isabella to walk away on her own terms."

"Otherwise, I'll lose the Old Man's trust."

But Damian.

I don't want your compensation.

And I don't love you anymore.

The thing is, Damian was an idiot.

He had never noticed the way his brother, Lorenzo, looked at me—with an intensity that was far from brotherly.

I sent a single text message:

"Tonight. The Serpent's Kiss. Alone."

The usually cold and unapproachable Lorenzo replied instantly.

"Wait for me."

That night, I arrived at the club in a black, backless gown, commanding the attention of the entire room.

Some Soldati who didn't recognize me whistled. A few even tried to hit on me, getting a little too handsy.

"Hey beautiful, you alone?"

The man approached, his hand reaching for my waist, but he was stopped before he could make contact.

"Get lost!"

Lorenzo's voice was, as always, ice-cold.

As if shrouded in frost.

"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?!"

Facing a man who looked like the Grim Reaper himself, the guy was still posturing, until someone behind him cried out in alarm:

"Do you have a death wish? That's Lorenzo Falcone, the Executioner!"

The words had barely left his lips before the man scrambled away in terror.

A faint smile played on my lips.

Everyone knew the Falcone family had two sons.

The elder son was not to be trifled with, a walking god of death who kept everyone at arm's length.

The younger son was warm and handsome, publicly perceived as a doting husband and the dream man of countless young women.

The two brothers were night and day.

He watched as I raised my glass of whiskey, offering him a silent toast from across the room.

Lorenzo immediately took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

"That design competition I organized for you... I didn't see your name. Why didn't you participate?"

I took a light sip from my glass.

"Haven't you heard?"

"I'm not a designer anymore."

After I had proposed the divorce, Damian had given me three conditions.

The first was for me to give up my property and shares.

The property was our marital home, which I never wanted anyway.

The shares were dividends from the Falcone family after our marriage.

Every time I received that money, I donated it to charity, so it made no difference to me if it was gone.

But the second condition was for me to close my design studio.

Damian pulled some strings and gave my studio's client list and ongoing projects to Scarlett.

After that, she was the one who entered the fashion design competition.

She didn't win.

I just hadn't expected the competition to have been organized by Lorenzo.

"Let's talk about you."

I put down my glass and tilted my head with a smile.

"Lorenzo, I hear you're going to marry Scarlett, an arranged marriage with her family?"

"She cried herself half to death when she heard she was being promised to you."

Lorenzo stared straight at me.

"What, are you here to plead her case?"

He casually took the glass of whiskey I had been drinking from.

He drank from the exact spot my lips had touched.

He didn't seem to think anything of it, his gaze flickering up to study me.

I smiled. "And what if I am?"

I took the glass back from his hand and slowly moved closer.

"How about you don't marry her? Marry me instead."

Lorenzo's eyes shot up, and he stared at me for a long time without speaking.

I sighed and shook my head.

"Unwilling? Fine, then."

I shrugged off the jacket, tossed it back into his arms, and grabbed my bag.

I had only taken a single step before a hand wrapped around my waist.

A sharp tug followed.

And I fell back into his embrace.

His gaze was fixed on me. "What's the matter? Brother not home tonight? Got you feeling lonely?"

"Dressed like this..."

His gaze roamed shamelessly over my body, predatory and intense.

"Here to seduce me?"

Normally, I would have backed away long ago.

But now, not only did I not retreat, I leaned in closer, snaking my arms around his neck.

"Lorenzo, the line of your neck is so sexy."

My gaze landed suggestively on his tense muscles as I let out a soft laugh.

"Can I touch it?"

Lorenzo caught my wandering hand, his brow furrowed.

"Tell me what happened."

A wry smile touched my lips.

"I knew I couldn't hide anything from you."

I pulled the agreement from my bag and showed it to him.

"Lorenzo, your brother and I are getting a divorce. The agreement says that as long as I can seduce you, our marriage will be annulled."

"Haven't you always been interested in me?"

I smiled and spread my hands.

"Here's your chance."

Lorenzo stared at me intently for a long time, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Damian is a fool for not knowing how to appreciate you."

He wrapped his arm around my waist.

His breath was inches away.

"In that case, he won't even get the chance to regret it."