Chapter 3

The cough came from the doorway.

Lila stood there in a pale coat, one hand resting on the frame.

A small dressing covered her wrist. She looked fragile enough to invite concern, but her eyes were already moving around the apartment.

“James,” she said softly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.”

James crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders.

“You should be resting.”

“I didn't want you to come alone.” Her gaze drifted over the floor-to-ceiling windows and marble kitchen island. “This place is beautiful.”

Then she noticed the garment bag hanging by the wardrobe. The ivory wedding dress inside was the one I'd spent months choosing and having altered.

“That's gorgeous, too,” Lila said. “I've always wanted a dress like that. It's a shame I'll never have an occasion to wear something so lovely.”

She said it wistfully, but looked at James.

I understood immediately.

James tightened his arm around her and glanced at me, his expression pleading, as if I were supposed to make this easy for him.

A laugh slipped out.

“Let me guess. You'd like the apartment, too? Should I leave you the keys?”

“Alessia,” James warned.

“I was only saying it's beautiful,” Lila murmured, lowering her eyes.

“Of course.”

I pulled the dress from its bag. The delicate beading caught the light. I'd pictured wearing it as I walked toward James, believing I was stepping into the rest of my life.

That future was gone.

I took the sewing scissors from the drawer.

“What are you doing?” James asked.

I drove the blades through the bodice and cut downward. The sound of tearing silk filled the room. One cut became two, then three, until the dress fell in ruined pieces.

Lila gasped and grabbed James's sleeve.

“James!”

He stared at the gown. “Have you lost your mind? It's a dress.”

I let the scissors fall onto the counter.

“My things are mine. I'd rather destroy them than watch you hand them to someone else.”

Lila tucked herself against James. “She's frightening. Let's go.”

James looked at me, anger replacing his concern. “You didn't have to do that. What are you supposed to wear if we reschedule?”

I almost smiled.

“Don't worry about my wedding clothes. The Vitale family can take care of that.”

The name landed between us.

James frowned. “The Vitale family?”

Lila's expression sharpened. Everyone who followed the business pages or society columns knew that name.

“You mean Gideon Vitale?” Her surprise turned into a disbelieving laugh. “Alessia, that's ridiculous.”

I said nothing.

“Gideon Vitale is famous for dating models. He likes beautiful women. Why would he marry you?”

James looked from her to me. “Is that what this is? You're pretending you've got some rich guy lined up because you're angry with me?”

I reached into my handbag for a cleansing wipe. The Vitale family had seen my real face; James hadn't. If he needed proof, I could give it to him now.

Lila stepped forward. “What are you doing?”

I lifted the wipe toward my cheek.

“Alessia, stop,” James said impatiently. “Wiping that stuff off isn't going to change anything.”

My phone rang.

The caller ID showed the number Dominic had given me for the Vitale household. I answered and put it on speaker.

“Miss DeLuca, this is Mr. Harris, the Vitale family administrator. Mrs. Vitale asked me to confirm that the wedding arrangements have been finalized. The ceremony is scheduled for three days from now.”

No one moved.

“I'm sorry,” James said. “What wedding?”

“The marriage between Miss DeLuca and Mr. Gideon Vitale,” the man replied. “Both families have approved the date. Mrs. Vitale asked me to make sure Miss DeLuca has everything she needs.”

Lila shook her head. “That's not possible.”

“A member of our staff will deliver the remaining items shortly,” the administrator continued. “Please let us know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” I said, and ended the call.

For a moment, the apartment was silent.

Then Lila gave a brittle laugh. “He's lying. They must have hired someone to make that call.”

James seized on the explanation. “You can't expect us to believe this. Gideon Vitale wouldn't marry someone he hasn't even met.”

I looked at him.

“You seem to know a lot about what he would or wouldn't do.”

“Alessia, listen to yourself. He has his pick of women. Why would he choose you?”

There it was again. The same certainty. The same assumption that my face determined the limits of my life.

I slipped the wipe back into its packet.

“You don't have to believe me, James. It doesn't change what's happening.”

Lila touched his arm. “Let's go. She's only trying to upset you.”

He hesitated, searching my face for some sign that I was bluffing.

“I'll give you time to calm down,” he said. “When you're ready to talk sensibly, call me.”

I didn't answer.

He guided Lila toward the door. She glanced back at the ruined dress before following him out.

The lock clicked.

A few seconds later, the doorbell rang again.

Two Vitale staff members stood outside with a long garment box and several smaller packages. They carried everything inside carefully.

“Compliments of Mrs. Vitale,” one said. “She asked us to make sure these reached you today.”

I opened the garment box.

Inside was an exquisite ivory gown, its clean lines and delicate crystal work catching the afternoon light. A note rested on top.

For the bride. We look forward to welcoming you.

I touched the fabric.

James still thought I was bluffing.

He was about to learn how wrong he was.