Chapter 3

Elena's POV

She stepped closer, her eyes widening. "This is Valentino's ONLY haute couture wedding dress this year!"

"Two months ago I had my eye on this piece in Milan, but the designer said it was not for sale—already reserved!"

She laughed coldly, eyes full of jealousy. "How the hell did you get your hands on it? Did you use some dirty tricks..."

The bridesmaids immediately joined in.

"Right! How could this kind of haute couture be sold to someone like HER? She must've stolen it!"

"Bet she fucked the designer to get it!"

I looked at Sofia's twisted face and said flatly, "Dante had Mr. Valentino design it especially for me. One of a kind in the world."

Sofia froze for a second.

Then she laughed so hard her whole body shook, tears streaming down her face.

"Dante? You've got some BALLS saying that!"

"Elena, even your lies have limits! Mr. Valentino is the Godfather's personal designer. Why the fuck would he design a wedding dress for a broke bitch like you?"

"You think pulling names out of your ass will fool us?"

I didn't bother explaining again and turned to leave.

But just then—

Sofia suddenly shrieked "Ah!" and lost her balance, falling toward me.

The wine glass in her hand tilted with her body, the red liquid arcing through the air—

But her "accident" was way too obvious.

I simply stepped aside.

The wine didn't hit my wedding dress. Instead, it splashed all over Sofia's own heels and the hem of her dress.

Sofia stood frozen, staring down at her ruined shoes and dress.

"My shoes!" She suddenly screamed like a cat with its tail stepped on. "My Louboutins! You RUINED my shoes!"

"This is YOUR fault!" Sofia lunged at me. "You did this!"

"You spilled it yourself," I said flatly, dodging her easily. "Can't blame me."

Sofia stumbled, her eyes red as she glared at me.

"LUCA!" She threw herself into Luca's arms, sobbing. "Look at her! She dodged on purpose! She deliberately humiliated me! She came here to RUIN our engagement party!"

I rolled my eyes. The wedding had already started. Dante must be waiting for me on the top floor. I needed to get out of here.

Luca's face darkened as he immediately blocked my path. I instinctively stepped back, but he grabbed my wrist in one swift motion.

"Get on your KNEES!" he barked. "Clean Sofia's shoes! Apologize!"

"She spilled it herself..." I struggled, pain shooting through my wrist. "And I'm going to be late... Luca, let me go..."

His expression instantly turned vicious. "I said GET ON YOUR KNEES! You deaf or something?" He leaned in close, the stench of alcohol and cigars hitting my face. "A year ago I dumped your ass at the church—you should've learned your place then! And now you dare put on airs in front of me? Act all high and mighty in front of Sofia?"

I gritted my teeth, staring into his eyes. "I won't kneel. Luca, let me go. Or you'll regret it."

Luca froze for a moment. That tone...

That rainy night a year ago, standing at the church entrance with rain soaking my wedding dress, I'd said just as calmly: "You'll regret this, Luca."

But back then, he'd only found it laughable. A woman so broke she couldn't even pay off her father's debts—what right did she have to make him regret anything?

Now, remembering it only made him angrier.

"You DARE threaten me?" He sneered, squeezing my wrist harder. "You think you're still that Elena I used to like? You're a fucking NOBODY now!"

Sofia trembled with rage and snapped her fingers. Two bridesmaids immediately grabbed my arms from behind, a third grabbed my hair and forced my head down.

"Get on your KNEES!"

I struggled violently, but I couldn't fight off three people. My knees slammed hard against the floor, pain exploding through them.

SLAP!

A sharp CRACK rang out.

Sofia's diamond ring carved three bloody lines across my cheek, the burning pain searing.

"Bitch! Gone for a year and suddenly grew a spine?"

Another slap. Blood trickled from my mouth.

"BEG! Beg for mercy!"

Under the continuous assault, I looked at Luca for help—a reflexive response.

Once, Luca would've protected me. Even if it was just street punks harassing me, he would've jumped in to defend me.

But now—

Luca coldly turned his head away, lighting another cigar and blowing out a smoke ring.

"Elena, this is on you. Who the fuck told you to act tough?"

Something inside me died. It finally hit me—the man standing before me was nothing like the Luca who once promised to protect me forever.

No. Maybe he'd never changed. Maybe I'd just been blind all along.

"I'm... sorry..." I forced out the words, my mouth full of the taste of blood.

"LOUDER! I can't hear you!" Sofia grabbed my hair, yanking my face up.

"I'M SORRY!"

Sofia smiled triumphantly. "That's more like it. Why didn't you just do that from the start?"

But she wasn't done with me.

She released my jaw, grabbed my hair, and shoved my face toward her wine-stained shoe.

"LICK it! Lick my shoe! DO IT!"

I squeezed my eyes shut in humiliation, tears streaming down my face.

Dante... save me... I repeated his name over and over in my mind.

Just when I thought if I could endure this, I could leave—

Things suddenly got worse.

Luca's gaze fell on my wedding dress straps that had slipped during my struggle. My shoulders, collarbone, and part of my chest were exposed. His eyes lingered on my curves for a few seconds, a flash of lust in them.

Sofia caught it immediately, her face twisting with rage.

"You WHORE!" she shrieked. "Still trying to seduce him!"

She lunged at me like a madwoman and began tearing at my wedding dress.

"You don't DESERVE to wear this! You must've stolen it!"

Pearl buttons popped off under her hands with crisp snaps. Lace ripped apart. The dress was torn piece by piece.

"Stop... please..." I desperately tried to cover my chest, but they were too strong.

I was nearly naked, only able to shield my trembling body with scraps of fabric. Shame drowned me.

The male guests in the banquet hall started jeering. Some pulled out their phones to take pictures, some whistled, vulgar laughter filling the entire hall.

"Look at that body!"

"No wonder Luca couldn't let her go back then!"

"Those legs, that waist..."

I struggled desperately on the floor, covering my chest, tears blurring my vision.

Just as Sofia was about to rip off what little remained—

BANG!

The banquet hall doors exploded inward, violently kicked open. Everyone whipped around in terror.

A dozen men in black suits poured in, quickly spreading out to block every exit.

Leading them was a scarred middle-aged man—Marco, Dante's right-hand man.

When he saw me curled up on the floor, his eyes instantly turned murderous.

He strode over, kicked Sofia aside, sending the bridesmaids screaming backward.

He carefully draped his suit jacket over me, then knelt on one knee, bowing his head.

"Donna, forgive me for being late."

That single word—Donna—fell like a bomb. The banquet hall went dead silent.

And then—

Behind him, a tall figure slowly walked in.

Charcoal gray three-piece suit. Black shirt with the top two buttons undone.

Ink-black hair. Deep green eyes now cold as ancient ice.

Dante Moretti.

When he saw me on the floor—covered in wounds, barely clothed—murder flashed in his eyes.