Chapter 1

The night before the wedding, at the bachelor party, my fiancé Don Dominic was challenged to a round of truth or dare.

"Dominic, tell us the proudest thing you've ever done."

He answered without hesitation: "Spoiling the woman I love until she’s got temper."

Our friends exchanged glances, teasing him to tone down the lovesick act.

Even my best friend Serena couldn't resist a jab. "You're so lucky, Isabella. Having a man like that wrapped around your finger—you'd better hold on tight."

My face burned red amid the catcalls, and I gave Dominic a playful punch to the chest.

What I didn't notice was that after he said those words, his gaze had locked onto Serena and never left.

Not until Serena lost a dare. The penalty: pick anyone in the room and say, "Honey, I'm carrying your baby."

I was already reaching for my phone, ready to record her flustered reaction.

But Dominic, who'd been slumped over drunk just seconds ago, went stone-cold sober in an instant.

He pulled Serena into his arms, eyes rimming red. "Baby, you're finally ready to admit it?"

I stood frozen. My phone slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.

Serena struggled violently. "Dominic, you're drunk!"

He only held tighter, voice thick with hurt. "I'm not drunk. You're my wife, Ser—"

I could feel it, the next syllable was about to land.

But Serena slapped him across the face without a second's hesitation, cutting the name short.

Dominic clutched his reddening cheek. Whether sober or not, he lurched toward the trash can and vomited.

Marco smoothed things over with a laugh. "Bella, he's just too happy—drank way more than he should've. You girls keep chatting. I'll get him cleaned up."

Serena watched my face anxiously, then cursed under her breath. "Two glasses of bourbon and he's pawing at me like a lunatic. If your wedding weren't two days out, I'd have broken that hand off at the wrist."

Normally I'd have laughed and played peacemaker, the way I always did when they bickered.

But tonight, something in me had gone quiet.

Maybe it was those two sentences.

Or maybe it was the folded documents that had slipped from Dominic's jacket pocket when he stood—the ones I'd picked up before anyone else could see.

City Clerk's Office.

I hadn't had time to read the details before two signatures at the bottom caught my eye.

One was Dominic Valenti.

The other was Serena Hayes.

I clutched the papers, my fingertips like ice.

"He probably just mistook you for me—he was hammered. Once he sobers up, I'll make him apologize."

Serena visibly relaxed, waving it off. "Forget it. I'll let it slide this once. But if he treats you badly after the wedding, I'm settling old scores and new ones together."

After she left, I excused myself under the pretense of checking on Dominic.

I needed a quiet corner to open those documents.

At the end of the corridor stood a man.

Dark suit. Silver-gray cufflinks. His features bore a passing resemblance to Dominic's, but colder, more contained.

His gaze fell to the strand of old beads around my wrist—and stayed there a long time.

Rosa had worn that bracelet as far back as I could remember. When her eyes failed, she'd pressed it into my hands and told me never to take it off.

As we passed each other, the man murmured:

"Stay away from the Valenti family."

I froze. By the time I turned around, he had already disappeared around the corner.

Before I could process what he'd said, I heard Dominic's voice drifting from a side room, talking to one of his men.

"Boss, that was way too close tonight. If Serena hadn't reacted fast, Bella would've found out everything."

Dominic lit a cigarette. His tone was lazy, indifferent.

"If Serena hadn't stopped me, I would've told her the truth a long time ago."

"But Don, when your mother was paralyzed from the stroke, it was Bella who stayed at her bedside day and night. And back when you were starting out and the Morettis cornered you in that alley, she took a knife for you."

Dominic's voice didn't waver.

"She debased herself. What was I supposed to do about it?"

"If she hadn't schemed her way into my life, I wouldn't have had to pretend to be broke all those years just to drive her off."

"Still, she's been loyal long enough, and I've gotten used to having her around. I don't mind giving her a wedding."

"But the marriage license belongs to Serena. Only Serena."

I slid down the wall, legs giving out beneath me, and crumpled to the floor.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, refusing to let a single sound escape.

In the dim light of the corridor, I finally read the documents in full.

This was not our marriage license—mine and Dominic's.

It was a marriage license signed that very afternoon at City Hall by Dominic Valenti and Serena Hayes.

Tucked inside was a Polaroid.

In it, Serena leaned against Dominic's shoulder, smiling like a real bride.

I suddenly remembered: Dominic was supposed to meet me at City Hall that afternoon to register our marriage. He'd gone dark instead.

I'd stood outside the building in a downpour for two hours. Called him a hundred times. No answer.

He'd finally shown up at dusk, apologizing—said he'd been preparing tonight's party, wanted to surprise me, lost track of time.

Now I knew the truth behind his tardiness.

He'd been at City Hall registering a marriage with my best friend.

I staggered back toward the private room, clutching my phone with its shattered screen.

But the instant before I pushed the door open, I caught a glimpse through the crack—

There, under the spotlight at the center of the room, Serena and Dominic were locked in a deep, lingering kiss.