Chapter 1

A week before our family wedding, my fiancé, Matteo, suddenly changed the location to a luxury yacht in Boca Raton.

I only found out when the wedding coordinator called me. Over the video call, I heard Matteo's careless voice in the background:

"It's just a wedding. It's the same anywhere. Don't bother asking Sienna. She does whatever I say."

"Besides, Camilla always dreamed of a fairytale wedding at sea. I'm just making her dream come true. Sienna will understand."

Just because his childhood friend, Camilla Moretti, said she liked ocean views, he ruined the wedding I spent months planning.

And he didn't even bother to tell me.

He knew damn well I nearly drowned as a kid. He knew deep water terrifies me to my very core.

Matteo thought I was crazy in love with him. After all, I once took a bullet to the head for him, damaging my vision. He was dead sure I'd back down again and smooth things over with my family.

He thought wrong.

I'm done taking his garbage. I tore up the wedding contract and walked away without looking back.

Screw this wedding. And screw him.

Chapter 1

"Boss, moving the wedding to a luxury yacht in Boca Raton... you can't be serious!"

Outside the study door, Lucas's hushed, panic-stricken voice cut through the air.

"Miss Sienna nearly drowned as a kid. She has severe trauma from deep water! Putting the wedding at sea will trigger a full-blown panic attack!"

My hand froze on the doorknob. My blood ran cold.

Inside, ice clinked against a whiskey glass, followed by Matteo's arrogant, irritated scoff.

"That's just old drama from her childhood. Tell her to drop the drama," Matteo said, his tone as cold as if he were talking about a total stranger. "Camilla loves the ocean view. Isn't a sea breeze way better than being stuck on land? Sienna loves me enough to go blind for me. She can suck it up and deal with a little water. She isn't that fragile. She'll go coordinate the venue with the Rossi family like a good girl."

"But San Siro Estate was locked in by both Don Rossi and Don Falcone!" Lucas pleaded, keeping his voice down.

"My word is final," Matteo cut him off brutally. "She's a half-blind cripple now. Who else would marry her besides me? She can take it or leave it."

Right then, his private phone rang.

The moment he picked up, all the ice in his voice melted away. He sounded disgustingly sweet. "Camilla? The Milan custom dress arrived? It's only six hundred thousand dollars, babe. Anything for you. Wear it on the big day. You'll be the most beautiful woman there."

A six-hundred-thousand-dollar custom gown.

I looked down at the cheap three-hundred-dollar dress I bought off the discount rack at a local bridal shop.

Yesterday during my fitting, my damaged vision made everything blurry. I asked him nervously if I looked pretty. He didn't even glance up. He just tossed out a lazy, "Looks fine, nobody's looking at you anyway," before rushing out to buy cake for Camilla.

It wasn't that he lacked money, or didn't know romance.

I just wasn't worth it.

I bit my bottom lip hard, fighting back the burning tears. My doctors warned me a thousand times—severe crying with damaged optic nerves could make me permanently blind.

I gave him four whole years of pure, unconditional love.

He forgot that San Siro Estate was where we first met. It was where we fell in love.

Two years ago during a mafia ambush, gunmen cornered Matteo at that very estate. I threw myself in front of him without hesitation. A bullet shattered my skull, lodging fragments against my optic nerve and plunging me into absolute darkness for six months.

I thought my sacrifice earned me a lifetime of love.

Turns out, it just gave him leverage to crush my dignity.

I didn't burst in to make a scene. I pulled my hand back and walked away down the cold red carpet, step by step.

Rain started pouring down outside. I sat in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight they shook.

The fog on the windshield felt like a giant net, pulling me back into the suffocating darkness of my childhood trauma. But I stared straight ahead, forcing my body to stop trembling.

Having a panic attack over a man who doesn't love me? Not worth it.

That night, Matteo claimed he had an urgent high-level mafia meeting and didn't come home.

At 2:00 AM, my phone buzzed with a social media notification.

It was a picture Lucas posted from the mafia VIP party.

Right in the center, Camilla was leaning drunk into Matteo's arms. Matteo held her waist, his eyes dripping with affection.

In the comments, a high-ranking mob boss teased: "Matteo, moving the wedding to a yacht? Will Sienna actually agree to that?"

Matteo replied directly:

[Like she'd dare to care? If she doesn't want to marry me, plenty of women are dying to take the Underboss's wife spot.]

Looking at those words, I suddenly laughed out loud.

The last trace of warmth in my heart froze solid.

I hit the like button.

Since you put it that way, I don't want you anymore either.

Chapter 2

"Miss Rossi, the atrophy in your optic nerve is getting worse. Your post-traumatic stress is escalating, too."

Inside the VIP exam room at the Rossi family's private hospital, my doctor stared at my brain CT scan with a heavy frown.

"I have to remind you, severe nerve compression requires family support. You insisted Don Rossi couldn't come, but why isn't Mr. Matteo here again today?"

I looked at the dark shadow pressing against my nerve on the scan and let out a bitter smile.

"He's busy. Busy with someone else."

The moment I stepped out of the hospital, a sudden torrential downpour hit.

Ice-cold rain slammed against the pavement, pooling into rushing currents.

Watching the water rise, my face went pale. My whole body started shaking uncontrollably.

I leaned heavily against the wall, forcing my eyes away from the water.

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the high-end Michelin restaurant next door, I spotted them immediately.

Matteo sat by the window in a tailored suit, leaning in with a gentle smile to take a selfie with Camilla, their cheeks pressed together.

Beside Camilla sat a limited-edition Hermes bag. The exact one I'd seen in a magazine days ago—the one Matteo brushed off, claiming he bought it for an "important client."

I walked into our shared villa soaked to the bone.

I'd barely changed out of my wet clothes when the front door burst open. Matteo walked in with a chill clinging to him, exhaustion and annoyance written all over his face.

Seeing me standing there dazed, something seemed to click. His face shifted slightly.

"You had your checkup today?" A rare flicker of awkwardness crossed his voice. "Work was crazy. It completely slipped my mind."

Slipped his mind.

This was the fourth time he "forgot" my appointment.

I didn't make excuses for him like I used to. I just looked at him calmly. "You weren't busy with work. You were busy with Camilla."

Matteo's face instantly darkened.

He threw his coat onto the couch and stepped toward me, his patience completely gone. "Sienna, enough! So I missed one appointment. Was it worth stalking me to a restaurant? Bringing up old drama over every little thing—aren't you sick of yourself?"

"Bringing up old drama?" I let out a cold laugh.

"Aren't you?!" Matteo barked, eyes full of disgust. "You just want to remind me again how you got hurt and went blind saving my life! You throw it in my face every single day to play the victim. Doesn't it get old?"

His words stabbed into my heart like a dull knife, making it hard to breathe.

I almost died keeping him alive. To him, it was just leverage I used to trap him.

"And another thing—I heard you have a problem with the wedding setup," Matteo sneered, stepping closer with arrogant entitlement. "Camilla loves the sea. Can't you just get over your psychological baggage for once? She just moved back and has nothing. She only has me! You're a Rossi heiress. Can't you show some grace instead of watching her like a bitter housewife?"

I stared at his collar. Right on the fabric was a smudge of lipstick in Camilla's signature hot pink.

The whole thing felt insanely ridiculous.

"Grace?" I echoed softly. "Matteo, how graceful do I need to be before I stop being a burden to you?"

Matteo frowned, about to snap, when his private phone rang wildly.

The second he answered, Camilla's tearful, needy voice came through the speaker: "Matteo... my foot hurts so bad. I think I sprained my ankle. Can you come stay with me, please?"

"Don't panic, I'm on my way!" The annoyance in Matteo's eyes melted into instant, desperate concern. Without a single glance at me, he sprinted for the door.

At the threshold, he paused, spitting an ice-cold line over his shoulder:

"Drop the tragic act. Stop stalking me... you look like a clown."

The door slammed shut so hard the entire house shook.

Rain lashed violently against the windows. I reached up, touching my throbbing eyes, and let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Turns out my vision was never the problem.

For four years, I was just blind in the heart.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Matteo offered to drive me to pick out wedding favors—something he usually never cared about.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

Out of nowhere, he broke the dead quiet. "Sienna, we're doing the wedding on a luxury yacht. You don't have a problem with that, right?"

He gripped the steering wheel, casual as could be, without even glancing my way.

"You know I have severe PTSD. I can't leave dry land." I looked out the window, my voice dead flat. "If you want to change the venue, tell my father directly."

Matteo's grip tightened, veins bulging on his hands.

"No need to bother your dad. I was just asking." He forced back his annoyance with a fake smile. "We're here."

Inside the top wedding customization salon in Napa Valley, expensive crystals and custom favors lined the displays.

But the designer wasn't the only one waiting for us.

Camilla stood in the VIP lounge wearing a tight white dress, acting like she owned the place. She handed me a glass of ice water with a sweet smile.

"Sienna, you finally made it." She turned to Matteo, naturally grabbing his sleeve. "Matteo, the gourmet snacks here are still amazing. Just like the ones you bought me when you brought me here for gifts before."

I didn't take the glass.

Camilla's eyes dimmed. She picked up a fresh ocean-themed favor box from the table, acting completely innocent.

"Sienna, exposure therapy actually helps with aquaphobia. Matteo picked a yacht for the wedding and sea-themed favors to help you get over your fear. He's doing it for your own good."

I stared at her coldly, walking right past her toward the couch. "An outsider doesn't get a say in my wedding."

Camilla went pale. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes as she took two dramatic steps back.

"I'm sorry... I'm just too clingy with Matteo. I only wanted to help... I'll leave."

"Stop right there!"

Matteo's voice exploded through the salon.

He lunged forward, grabbing Camilla's hand and lacing his fingers through hers right in front of all the staff.

"She's just trying to help! Who are you to act so high and mighty?" Matteo glared at me, his eyes sharp enough to kill. "You wouldn't even let her be head bridesmaid, and now you're humiliating her in public? Where are your damn manners, Sienna?"

The staff lowered their heads, breathing as quietly as possible.

Looking at their intertwined hands, I suddenly laughed.

"You're lecturing me about manners in front of her, at our wedding shop?"

"Stop the drama!" Matteo tore off his mask completely, roaring so loud the crystal chandelier rattled. "I didn't cause your fear of water! And so what if your eyes got damaged? Don't pretend I didn't try with you! You cried yourself blind again in secret, playing sick for attention! You think using the 'life-saver' card lets you hold me hostage forever?"

Those words slammed into my last shred of dignity like a blade.

Playing sick?

Back when he actually loved me, he'd run to a doctor if I lost a single eyelash.

Ever since Camilla came back, everything changed.

I remembered three months ago when I had a 104-degree fever, convulsing and losing my sight from a PTSD episode. Sitting in Camilla's oceanfront mansion, he sent me a cold two-word text: Drink water.

I remembered our four-year anniversary. I waited outside a private gallery until my hands went numb from the cold, while he rented an island half a month in advance to throw a massive birthday bash for Camilla.

All my sacrifices meant nothing to him. They were just leverage I used to trap him.

"Matteo, the wedding is off." I stood up slowly, tearing the design sheets in my hands into shreds and throwing them right into his face.

"Since you found someone more fitting, I wish you two a happy life together."

I turned around and walked out of the salon without looking back once.

Night fell.

I sat alone in the Rossi family mansion. On the table sat a cancellation agreement I had drafted long ago.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

I picked it up. Matteo's slurred, drunk voice came through, dripping with arrogance and command:

"Sienna... drop the attitude. Pack your stuff and get your ass on the yacht. Act right, and the position of Falcone family leading lady is still yours."

Listening to his heavy, intoxicated breathing, the last spark of warmth in my eyes died completely.

"Matteo," I said calmly into the mic. "Cancel the wedding."

The line went dead silent for a second before he snapped back furiously, "What kind of game are you playing now?!"

I didn't answer. I hung up the phone and blocked his number.

Since he wanted to drown with Camilla so badly, I'd cut his anchor myself.

Chapter 4

Late at night before the wedding, his lieutenant, Lucas, called me.

"Miss Sienna, the boss wants me to confirm tomorrow's schedule."

I stared at the empty room, my voice flat as ice. "Tell him all my bags and documents are packed."

Matteo's irritated voice immediately took over the line. "Good. Just be smart. Get on the yacht tomorrow morning, and don't throw a temper tantrum. Got it?"

"Got it."

On the morning of the wedding, the sunlight was blinding.

I sat in front of the mirror in my custom wedding dress, the crest of the Rossi family embroidered on the hem.

My phone buzzed again.

Matteo's panicked, cold voice burst out of the speaker. "Sienna! Camilla suddenly passed out! It's serious, and I have to take her to the hospital right now!"

I reached up, slipped on my diamond earrings, and gave a quiet "Okay."

"Get yourself a cab to the Boca Raton marina!" Matteo snapped, treating it as a matter of course. "You're an adult. Control your fear of water! Don't embarrass me in front of both families!"

Before I could speak, Camilla's weak groan came through the line, followed by the cold dial tone.

10:00 AM. Boca Raton Marina.

The ocean breeze howled, and the massive luxury yacht deck was fully decorated.

Matteo finally settled Camilla at the hospital and rushed to the docks.

The second he pushed open the venue doors, he froze dead in his tracks.

The deck was packed with Falcone family leaders and guests. But the entire bride's side was completely empty.

No Don Rossi. No elders. Not even a single Rossi bodyguard.

A suffocating panic gripped Matteo's chest.

He frantically pulled out his phone and dialed my number over and over.

The call didn't go through.

Frowning, he snatched his second-in-command's phone and redialed.

It picked up on the first ring.

"Sienna! Where the hell are you?!" Matteo roared into the phone, veins bulging on his forehead. "The guests are all here! How much longer are you going to play games?! Even your dad didn't show up! What do you want from me?!"

There was no sound of the ocean breeze on my end. Only the grand swell of a pipe organ playing a wedding hymn, echoing through the vast stone hall of a church.

I stood in the center of the oldest cathedral in North America, arm in arm with the tall, cold man beside me.

"Matteo," my voice cut through the music, calm like I was talking about the weather. "I'm already standing next to the groom."

Matteo choked, then lost his mind. "What the hell are you talking about?! I'm standing right here on the deck in Boca Raton! I'm your groom!"

I looked up at the stunning man beside me. Seeing him gaze back at me with absolute focus, I gave him a soft smile before speaking back into the phone.

"Does a groom act like you? You know I'm terrified of water. You know I have severe PTSD. But you don't care at all. To you, Camilla wanting to see the ocean matters more than my life."

"Sienna! Shut up and get your ass over here right now!" Matteo was completely panicking, his voice trembling despite himself. "Don't push me!"

"Mr. Falcone," I cut him off coldly. "I'm getting married. Have a nice life with Camilla. Goodbye."

"Wait—Sienna! Don't you dare hang up—!"

I hung up, popped out the SIM card, and dropped it right into the holy water font.

On the yacht deck.

Matteo listened to the dead dial tone, his face pale as a ghost.

"Boss! Something terrible happened!"

Lucas stumbled onto the deck holding a tablet, his knees shaking violently.

"What is it now?! Go find her! Go to the Rossi mansion and drag her here!" Matteo shrieked like a maniac.

"We can't drag her anywhere, Boss... The entire Mafia Alliance... just broadcast a top-tier wedding announcement!" Lucas's voice trembled with pure terror. "The Rossi heiress... just got married!"

Matteo snatched the tablet out of his hands.

Live-streaming on the screen was a royal-scale wedding.

Inside the grand cathedral, I turned my head, accepting a deep kiss from Julian DeLuca—the supreme Don who ruled the DeLuca family and controlled all of North America.

The Don was slipping a black diamond ring—the ultimate symbol of authority—onto my ring finger.

"DeLuca... Julian DeLuca?!"

Matteo's pupils shrank in terror. The tablet slipped from his hand, shattering into pieces on the deck.

That was the DeLuca family—the top overlords that even the Falcone family had to bow to!

The Falcone guests went dead silent. Nobody spoke, but the unspoken mockery in the air surrounded Matteo like a wave.

He was now the biggest laughingstock in the entire country.

Matteo's eyes flushed blood-red.

He lost his mind, his roar echoing across the entire marina:

"Impossible! That's impossible! How dare she marry someone else?!"

He kicked over an expensive flower stand, grabbed Lucas by the collar with bloodshot eyes, and snarled:

"She swore an oath! She swore she'd only ever be my bride!"