The Cripple's Sacred Deception

He met Odessa's expectant gaze, then turned to me, his expression a mask of strained apology. "Alessia, darling, I know how much that crest meant. But Odessa… she wanted a symbol of my affection too. After we're married, I swear, I'll make it up to you. A bigger surprise."

The man I was marrying wasn't Silas anyway, so the tattoo meant nothing to me now. But as my eyes fell on it, a flood of memories rushed back.

Years ago, he had pointed to that tattoo and sworn that my family's mark would be the only one on his body. Now, for another woman, he was ready to erase it.

My gaze fell to the spot on his arm. Now, where my family's trident had been, there was only a blurry, scarred patch of skin from laser removal, already covered by a garish rose for Odessa. He tugged his jacket sleeve down, trying to hide the disfigured skin. "On our wedding day," he said, "I'll give you a proper explanation."

In that moment, the tattoo that had captivated me for years lost its magic. Along with it, the man who had held me captive for so long.

"You're right," I said flatly. "I'm not the Donna yet. It's none of my business."

Silas hadn't expected me to concede so easily. A troubled look crossed his face.

Then, he repeated, "I promise. On the wedding day, you'll get a perfect explanation."

A flash of jealousy crossed Odessa's face at his words.

I didn't answer him. I just watched as Silas pulled his jacket sleeve down to cover the scarred skin.

I put down my utensils and asked seriously, "Silas, since I have no opinion on the tattoo, shouldn't you return the heirloom pocket watch my father gave you?"

Silas stared at me in disbelief. "You want the watch back? What is that supposed to mean? Are you calling off the wedding?"

I almost laughed out loud. Who was the one who didn't want this marriage? But I held it in, desperate to preserve what little dignity I had left and not sound like a scorned woman.

I just said calmly, "I just don't think it's appropriate for you to carry it anymore."

Silas ripped the pocket watch from his vest and slammed it on the table in front of me. "Fine. It's not appropriate. It was time for a new one anyway."

With that, he threw down his napkin, took Odessa's hand, and stormed out.

My fingers gently traced the cool metal of the watch. It had been my father's symbol of acceptance. Since Silas didn't cherish it, he would never get a second chance.

In the following days, I threw myself into the wedding preparations. I didn't see Silas once, nor did he call.

The long hours of work and stress caused my back injury to flare up again. With my usual physical therapist unavailable, the throbbing pain finally drove me to a private clinic for relief.

My vision blurred. I was staggering down the hallway, one hand on the wall for balance, when a familiar voice cut through the haze.

"The doctor said you're fine, don't worry," Silas said softly.

I looked up and saw him in the waiting area, holding Odessa in his arms. I hadn't seen such tenderness in his eyes in a long time.

Odessa leaned against his chest, feigning weakness. "My stomach hurts so much. I think I'll need to rest for a few days. But your wedding is in three days. How can I not be there as your bridesmaid?"

Silas gently stroked her hair. "Don't worry about that. The wedding can wait. Your health is what's most important."

Watching them, I couldn't help but let out a cold, bitter laugh.

When I got home, I found Silas on the phone, arranging to postpone the venue. He noticed me and frowned.

He asked, "Back hurting again?"

I managed a grunt of agreement.

He glanced at his phone, his hesitation brief. "I have to go to the port—it's business. We'll have to postpone the wedding again. Too much is happening with the family right now."

I kept my voice flat. "You're going to see Odessa, aren't you?"