The Delayed Wedding: I Refuse It

A little after eight, the lock clicked.

Luca came in with the rain still on his coat. A damp chill followed him into the apartment as he tossed his black overcoat over the arm of the sofa. In his other hand, he carried coffee and a small box of desserts.

Vanessa was already walking toward him in heels.

She took one of the cups from him as naturally as if she had been waiting for it, glanced down, and smiled.

"Still a hot latte?"

"You were the one who said the place downstairs makes it too bitter," Luca said casually.

Her eyes curved at once. "You remembered."

Luca gave a low laugh but said nothing. He only set the other cup on the table.

"Yours. Americano."

Vanessa's latte was warm, with cinnamon dusted over the foam and the pale gold sleeve she always liked. My iced Americano had been sitting long enough for the ice to melt, water beading all over the plastic cup.

It had probably always been like this.

I just hadn't noticed, or maybe I had never wanted to.

Vanessa was still wearing the champagne-gold bridesmaid dress. The satin clung to her waist and made her skin look almost luminous under the living room lights. She turned in front of the mirror, lifting the skirt a little as she asked Luca, "What do you think? Am I going to steal the bride's spotlight?"

Luca leaned against the sofa and looked at her for two seconds before answering, slow and easy.

"Looks good."

Vanessa laughed immediately. "Just the dress?"

Luca didn't answer. He only lowered his head and took a sip of coffee.

Somehow, the silence was more intimate than a compliment.

For one strange moment, with the warm light falling over both of them, I felt like I had walked into someone else's home.

Vanessa had always liked wearing my things.

Back then, Evelyn was still a private medical aide at the Castellano estate, in charge of my father's medication and meals. Vanessa practically grew up inside the estate. She was two years younger than me and always followed a step behind.

She would secretly try on gowns I no longer wore. She would stare at the jewelry I put on before family dinners. After banquets, she liked standing behind the railing on the second floor, watching the men in dark suits downstairs, the heirs and Capos who were born knowing which doors would open for them.

Once, she asked me, "Selene, what kind of man do you think you'll marry?"

I was young then and found the question boring, so I said, "I don't know."

Vanessa thought about it for a long time. Then she whispered, very seriously, "I'm going to marry into a family like this."

When she first entered Moretti's port operations line, I was the one who introduced her to Luca.

She had just graduated from business school then and was placed on the outside, handling dinner lists, dock receptions, and some of the less clean paperwork. She was smart, careful, and knew when to keep her mouth shut.

It did not take long before Luca started bringing her to family gatherings and underground casinos. She remembered what every Capo liked to drink. She organized transaction lists and port ledgers before anyone asked. Once, when the west-side transport line ran into trouble, she rearranged the dock handoff order in one night.

After that, Luca looked at her differently. He began taking her to more private meetings. And somehow, the seat beside him became hers by default.

"Where's Agnes?" Luca asked suddenly.

"I let her leave early."

He nodded and came toward me, lowering his head as if to kiss me.

The familiar scent of cedarwood came close. Before I could think, I turned my face away.

His lips had not even touched me when something shattered behind him.

Vanessa's coffee had fallen to the floor. Hot liquid splashed across the rug, and she drew in a soft breath as it burned her hand.

Luca let go of me almost instantly and strode over.

"Did it burn you?"

Vanessa frowned and murmured that it hurt.

Luca cursed under his breath, found the first-aid kit, and crouched in front of her to treat the red mark on the back of her hand.

"When are you going to stop being so clumsy?"

Vanessa looked wounded. "You startled me."

I picked up my iced Americano and took a sip.

It was bitter enough to leave my tongue dry.

I didn't look at them again. I turned and went back to the bedroom.

My suitcase was still open beside the bed with only a few pieces of clothing inside. I pulled open the drawer and took out my passport, a few cards, and the marriage registry. The Moretti crest was pressed into the parchment, a black rose wrapped around a dagger. It looked solemn. Dangerous. Real.

Three years ago, when Luca handed it to me, I had believed it was a promise.

I folded the papers and slipped them into the inner pocket of my suitcase.

Not long after, the bedroom door opened.

Luca stood in the doorway with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and a faint crease between his brows. He must have just finished treating Vanessa's hand; there was still a trace of ointment on his fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing." I folded a black jacket and placed it in the suitcase. "I'm going home for the holiday."

"Selene, the wedding is postponed. Not canceled." His voice lowered, as if he were dealing with a small inconvenience rather than the third year of the same promise. "You don't need to run back to those old connections over this."

Old connections. Even now, he still thought my family was just somewhere I went when I wanted to vent.

I kept folding my clothes and said nothing.

In Luca's mind, I was nothing more than an unimportant distant branch of the Castellano family.

Three years ago, I left my family because I truly wanted to bet on love. I did not want Luca to know who I really was. I did not want him to love the Castellano name instead of me.

"I know you're upset about the wedding," he said, stepping closer as if to touch my shoulder. "When the Italy matter is over, I'll go meet your family myself. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I lifted my eyes to him.

"What if I don't want it anymore?"

Luca frowned. "You will."

"Why?"

For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he gave a low laugh.

"Because you'll stand with me."

He was certain I would never leave.

Every time I had backed down, every time I had stayed quiet, every time I had explained him to my family and smoothed things over for him, I had only taught him one thing.

That I would always be there.