Chapter 2

The day Dominic’s precious Ivy returned from overseas, he made his choice.

And it wasn’t me.

I stared into his dark eyes, my voice trembling with anger.

“Dominic, have you forgotten?”

“My father became a vegetable because he took a bullet for you.”

“And now you’re letting someone threaten his life for her?”

“For Ivy?”

“The woman who lied, betrayed everyone, and took my mother away from me?”

My whole body was shaking.

Even with the truth right in front of me, I still couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t believe the man who once promised to protect my family would go this far.

That he would do this for her.

Dominic closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Elena, I’ve already punished her.”

“She knows she was wrong.”

“We are family.”

“There’s no need to drag this into court and make the Westwood family lose face.”

I almost laughed.

I knew exactly what his so-called punishment meant.

A few days locked inside the Westwood estate.

Her access to the family accounts suspended for a week.

A few meaningless warnings.

The same things I had seen countless times over the past eight years.

Ever since Ivy returned from studying abroad, every time Dominic and I finally had time alone, her calls would come.

Crying.

Threats.

Creating trouble that only Dominic could clean up.

And every single time, he told me the same thing.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Then he would leave me behind and go to her.

Every time.

He chose Ivy.

Every time.

I was the one waiting.

Whenever I questioned him, he would always explain gently.

“Elena, Ivy lost her parents when she was young.”

“I watched her grow up.”

“She’s my responsibility.”

“She’s spoiled sometimes, but she isn’t a bad person.”

“We have to be more patient with her.”

“We’re adults. We can’t argue with a child.”

I believed him.

For eight years, I believed every excuse he gave me.

Until Ivy killed my mother.

She drove her car into my mother and kept going.

All because she wanted to stop our wedding from happening.

Even then, I still held onto a little hope.

I thought Dominic would finally draw a line.

I thought he would finally choose right over protecting her.

But I was wrong.

His so-called justice.

His so-called principles.

His promises.

None of them were ever meant for me.

His heart had always belonged to her.

I looked back at the tablet screen.

The final moments of my mother’s life replayed again and again.

The sound of the collision.

The endless road.

The car that refused to stop.

The tears I had forced myself not to shed for weeks finally fell.

“Dominic.”

My voice was empty.

“Fine.”

“I’ll withdraw the lawsuit.”

A flash of surprise appeared in his eyes.

Then relief slowly replaced it.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

“Elena.”

“I knew you would make the right choice.”

“Seven days from now, we’ll hold our wedding again.”

“A real wedding this time.”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t nod.

I didn’t argue.

I simply picked up the pen.

And signed my name on the withdrawal agreement.

Every stroke felt like cutting my own heart open.

That night, I saw Ivy’s post on social media.

She was standing inside one of the Westwood family’s private clubs.

A glass of champagne in her hand.

Surrounded by expensive gifts.

The most eye-catching one was a rare antique watch worth three million dollars.

A watch Dominic had personally won at an underground charity auction and gifted to her.

Her caption read:

[Thank you to my dearest uncle. You’ve always protected me and given me endless chances.]

Dominic’s account was among the likes.

Eight years.

He had never liked a single one of my posts.

Not once.

But Ivy’s?

He never missed one.

When I asked him before, he always answered casually.

“She’s young.”

“If I don’t like her posts, she’ll make a scene.”

I never fought with him over her.

I chose to believe him.

I chose to trust the man who had saved my family.

But now.

The woman who took my mother’s life was celebrating her freedom.

And Dominic was standing behind her.

I stood by the window of the Westwood estate.

My hand rested gently on my stomach.

This child was once the gift I wanted to give Dominic.

The proof of our love.

The future I had imagined.

But now, I couldn’t give it to him anymore.

Just like the unfinished wedding.

There would never be a second half.

I picked up my phone.

Called the private hospital under the Westwood family’s control.

“Hello.”

“I’d like to schedule an abortion.”

My voice was calm.

Almost too calm.

I lowered my eyes and looked at my stomach.

Then I turned away.

Later, I held my mother’s funeral.

The funeral hall was filled with her favorite gardenias.

The flowers she loved most.

That day, Dominic arrived.

But he wasn’t alone.

Behind him stood Ivy.

She was dressed in black.

And Dominic was still holding her hand.