I Died Before "I Do"

When I was seventeen, Cesare Cassano, the youngest son of the Cassano Family, saw me once—and that was it. He was hooked.

At nineteen, he fought his way up and became the Don's chosen successor.

At twenty-one, in front of the whole city, I said yes to Cesare's over-the-top proposal.

Overnight, I became the woman every girl in Naples envied.

Everybody knew the Cassano Don would do anything for me—anything—just to see me smile.

And then three days later, at the billion-dollar wedding Cesare threw for me, livestreamed to the whole world, I fell off a cliff.

Just like that, I was dead. Gone without a trace.

Noemi's POV

"Signorina Naldoni, are you sure you want to 'fall to your death' at the wedding three days from now? The whole thing's gonna be livestreamed."

"Yes. I'm sure."

The staffer tried again. "It'll be broadcast worldwide. Once you fake your death, that identity's gone for good. You sure you wanna walk away from being the Donna?"

I tightened my grip on the proposal in my hand. My eyes stung, but my voice didn't shake.

"Yes. I don't want it anymore."

The whole world believed Cesare Cassano, Don of the Cassano Family, loved me like crazy.

Only I knew the truth.

Behind my back, he'd built another home—with some "innocent" college girl.

And it had been going on for two years.

Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't shake what I saw outside that house three days ago.

A cozy little villa. Cesare with his arm around a pregnant woman, steadying her. They stood close, smiling like they had the whole world.

The moment I uncovered that secret, my world caved in.

It took two days to confirm it. Two years of lies.

Photos. Videos. Proof I couldn't ignore.

The boy who once loved me more than anything had hidden his betrayal perfectly.

The memory slammed back into me. I shut my eyes.

Faking my death was the only way out.

I knew Cesare.

His possessiveness? Borderline obsession.

He'd never let me walk away.

But I didn't want to stay by his side anymore.

Every time he showed me tenderness, a thought crept in—was he like that with her too? Splitting the same affection between two women, two homes?

What I couldn't accept even more was the child.

The unborn heir to the Cassano Don.

The private investigator heard their conversation. The baby wasn't even born yet, and Cesare had already decided—he'd be the successor.

And me?

The fiancée.

A damn joke.

After the call, I wiped my tears and slid the fake-death plan into my vanity drawer.

I had just shut it when a weight dropped onto my shoulder.

A tall figure came up behind me, quiet as ever, and wrapped his arms around me.

"Noemi, why are you hiding in here? Didn't I tell you to hit Sotheby's and pick out a diamond ring?"

He stopped when he saw my face. "Why you're crying? You sick or something?"

The worry on Cesare's face looked real.

But pressed against him, I caught a faint scent of jasmine.

Not mine. I'd never worn that perfume.

It clung to his familiar scent.

My stomach twisted.

I shoved him off and stumbled into the bathroom, throwing up until I nearly blacked out.

He rushed in and wrapped me from behind, hands trembling as he wiped my mouth.

Cesare had a serious thing about cleanliness. The guy hated anything dirty. But now he ignored the mess completely. All he cared about was me.

He lifted me, ready to take me to the hospital.

I grabbed his sleeve. "I just ate something bad. I'm fine."

"No. We're going." His arms tightened around me, voice low and rough. "Three more days and you're my wife. My legal wife. You know how long I've waited for that? Until that day comes, I'm not letting anything go wrong."

The love on his face looked perfect.

If I hadn't just gotten the PI's photos—taken an hour ago—I might've believed it.

Cesare at an OB-GYN clinic. Standing close to that woman. The two of them looking at her ultrasound.

I swallowed everything down and forced a smile.

"Don't worry. Everything'll go exactly the way you want."

That night, a message from the staff popped up.

[Everything's arranged. At the wedding in three days, you'll disappear after an "accidental fall."]