Chapter 1

At eighteen, I learned that my father, Dominic DeLuca, had promised my hand to Gideon Vitale, heir to one of America's most powerful Mafia families.

I wanted no part of it.

After watching my mother flee the life my father had chosen for her, I refused to become another beautiful wife trapped in a gilded cage. So I deliberately ruined my appearance and had my father send the Vitale family an unflattering photograph. Knowing Gideon was notorious for chasing beautiful women, I hoped he'd reject me.

Then I met James.

He was my college senior, the first man who defended me when others mocked my looks. He never made me feel ugly, and eventually, I fell in love with him.

When I asked my father to let me marry James instead, he reminded me of the alliance I'd be breaking. I promised him I'd be happy with my choice. And if I was wrong, I'd accept the marriage he'd arranged for me.

My father finally agreed.

Three years later, on our wedding day, James received a call. Lila, the woman he'd never truly gotten over, was in the hospital.

He abandoned me at the altar without a second thought.

The guests stared at me with pity, but I couldn't help laughing.

So this was what it all came down to.

I had made a promise to my father.

And now, I was ready to become Mrs. Vitale.

...

The music stopped just as the officiant asked James to repeat his vows.

He was staring at his phone.

“What happened?” I whispered.

James turned the screen toward me. Lila Bennett was lying in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around her wrist.

“She's hurt herself. I have to go.”

I glanced at the two hundred guests watching us.

“James, we're getting married.”

“I know. But she needs me.”

“Can't someone else go?”

“She specifically asked for me, Alessia.”

One of his groomsmen snickered.

“Go ahead, man. It's not like you'll have trouble finding another girl. But Alessia? This might be her only shot.”

A few people laughed.

My cheeks burned beneath the heavy foundation.

“Let's be honest,” another said. “James is probably her last chance.”

I looked at James, waiting for him to defend me.

James didn't reprimand his friend. Instead, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Don't make a scene. You know I'm the one who gave you a chance. No one else has ever cared enough to look past...” His eyes flicked over my glasses and painted freckles. “You know what I mean.”

As though loving me were some extraordinary favor.

“If you walk out that door, James, we're finished.”

He sighed, almost impatiently.

“Where would you even go? You know I'm the only one who's ever wanted you.”

Then he walked away.

The doors closed. Whispers spread through the room, followed by looks of pity.

Three years earlier, I'd met James outside the university library. Some students mocked my appearance and knocked my books into a puddle.

James picked them up, gave me his jacket, and told them to find something better to do. He'd been kind when I expected another joke.

I still remember the way James looked at me back then—so warm and sincere, making me feel like my appearance didn't matter at all to him."

I'd never told him who my father was. He knew only that my family was wealthy and distant.

I kept the DeLuca name and my father's business out of our relationship because I wanted him to see me as Alessia, not as the daughter of a man whose name could make people nervous.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

He was so convinced that I was ugly, so certain that no one else would ever want me, that he believed he could trample all over my dignity and still expect me to be waiting when he returned.

Around me, the guests watched with a mixture of pity and barely concealed judgment.

I calmly unclasped my veil and let it fall to the floor.

Then I turned and walked toward the bridal suite without looking back.

In the bridal suite, I removed my veil and set it on the vanity. My phone lit up.

Lila is stable. I'm staying with her tonight. Can we reschedule?

Then another message arrived.

Please tell everyone you got sick and we had to postpone. Lila can't be blamed for this. Besides, you never liked being the center of attention.

He wanted me to take the blame for being abandoned. He wanted to protect Lila from gossip while my humiliation became a convenient secret. Because I was the ugly girl, he assumed no one would care what happened to me.

I called him.

“You want me to tell everyone I got sick?”

“It's the easiest explanation, Alessia. Don't make this harder.”

“You left me at the altar.”

“I'm handling a crisis. And you don't even like people looking at you. This way, you can avoid all the questions.”

I ended the call.

For a moment, I stared at my reflection. Then I picked up a cleansing cloth and wiped away the makeup I'd worn for years. The painted freckles disappeared, followed by the heavy foundation and shadows I'd used to make my features look plain.

When I finished, my mother's face looked back at me.

A quiet knock sounded at the door.

Dominic stepped inside. His gaze fell on my bare face, then on the wedding veil abandoned on the vanity.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.”

My father rarely apologized. Perhaps losing my mother had left him with too much guilt to bear, and he'd spent the years since trying, in his own imperfect way, to make sure I never felt trapped by him again.

He had given up a valuable family alliance because I'd asked him to let me choose my own husband.

Now I had nothing to show for that choice.

“Are you all right?”

I nodded, though my smile didn't quite reach my eyes.

Dominic studied me for a moment.

“The Vitale family actually reached out again recently,” he said. “Gideon hasn't turned it down. They wanted to know whether the arrangement was still possible.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Please tell them I'm willing to go ahead with it.”