Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Papa froze.
“Don’t you despise Alessandro? You said he was brutish and clingy.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. It was because in my past life, after my murder, Vincent had thrown my body into a giant car crusher at a junkyard he owned.
It was Alessandro who arrived just in time to pull my mangled and charred body from a pile of scrap metal. He even gave Vincent the deed to a Las Vegas casino in exchange for letting me be buried in the finest cemetery.
As I watched him kneel before my grave, crying like a lost child, I finally understood that the one who truly loved me was Alessandro.
“Papa, Alessandro may be two years younger than me, but he’s open and direct; he doesn’t play those filthy games. He has… feelings for me. Unlike some people, who start plotting how to use me before we’re even married.”
“Besides, you and Don Salvatore go way back. If I marry into their family, I know I won’t be mistreated.”
My father pondered for a moment, then a ruthless smile spread across his face. He turned and started making a call.
I walked out of the villa, hoping the evening breeze would clear my head.
The roses in the manor’s garden were in full bloom, but in my memory, only charred ruins remained. After I died, Vincent burned our estate to the ground, dug up my father’s ashes from his grave, and flushed them down the sewer.
His demonic expression loomed over me.
“You old bastard, that’ll teach you for using your power to crush me! If it weren’t for you people, Sophia and I would have had a family by now, not been torn apart by death!”
Tears streamed down my face as I caressed the cold brick wall, letting the pain consume every inch of my skin.
Suddenly, the sound of maids gossiping drifted from the shadows of the trees.
“That Kane guy actually went to the Don tonight and demanded that his mistress be allowed to join the wedding tomorrow.”
“Join? No, he wants to hold the ceremony with her. He wants to ‘marry’ that vixen at the same time.”
“That’s outrageous! Who ever heard of a wife and a mistress getting married at the same time? Isn’t this a complete humiliation for our Principessa and the Don?”
“I heard that Kane never wanted to marry the Principessa in the first place. She’s the one who insisted on throwing herself at him when she saw he was about to go bankrupt. Some Mafia Princess she is, so shameless. She’ll be fighting with a whore over a man every day. Who knows how she’ll have to get on her knees and beg before he’ll even bother to touch her.”
Their words grew more and more vulgar, even imagining me licking Vincent’s leather shoes, just to beg him to even glance my way.
A wave of bitterness washed over me. So, in their eyes, I had fallen this low. To think, it was Vincent who pursued me first.
The Romano and Kane families were allies for generations, their businesses intricately intertwined.
So, ever since we were children, Vincent and I had always played together.
Back then, he would sit beside me, carefully peeling pistachios for me.
He would wipe the cream from the corner of my mouth and take me to set off fireworks by Lake Michigan.
When we grew up, he took on the role of my guardian, chasing away every suitor who came near me.
I pouted in protest.
“Vincent, you’ve scared them all away. What am I going to do if I can’t get married now?”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“You can only marry me. I won’t let any other man near you.”
Then, the year I got into Stanford, he set off fireworks all night long to celebrate me coming of age.
That day, beneath the dazzling fireworks, the young man’s eyes blazed with a breathtaking light as he knelt on one knee and slid a ring onto my hand.
But that all changed the moment he met my roommate, Sophia Miller—the orphan whose eyes were always glistening with tears.
His heart became completely ensnared by Sophia’s porcelain-doll fragility, as if she might shatter at the slightest touch. The single, glistening tear threatening to fall from beneath her long lashes sent Vincent’s protective instincts into overdrive.
For Sophia, he forgot my birthday, all because she let out a couple of soft coughs.
Worried that I might “bully” her, Vincent bought her an off-campus apartment so she could have her own “safe harbor.”
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thrown a fit or protested. But all I ever got in return was the same line:
“I just see her as a little sister, that’s all. I’m just taking care of her. Can you stop being so unreasonable?”
Round after round of breaking up and making up led us to a point of no return.
I heaved a long sigh. Just as I turned to go inside, Vincent shot out from behind the rose bushes and slapped me hard across the face.
