The Cripple Who Claimed a Principessa

Facing Amber's expectant gaze, Julian looked torn. Finally, he turned to me. "Seraphina, we aren't married yet. Technically, you aren't the Donna. So just for now, let this go. After the wedding, I'll make it up to you with an even bigger surprise."

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

Years ago, he had pointed to that very tattoo and sworn my name would be the only mark he ever allowed on his body. Now, for another woman, he was ready to erase it.

My eyes fell to the spot on his arm where my initial had once been. Now it was just a blurred, scarred mess from the laser removal, a new design for Amber already inked over the ruin. He grabbed his jacket, trying to cover the ugly mark, and said to me, "On our wedding day, I'll give you a proper explanation."

In that moment, the tattoo that had haunted me for years lost its power. And with it, so did the man who had bound me for so long.

"You're right," I said, my voice flat. "I'm not the Donna yet. It's not my place to be concerned."

Julian hadn't expected me to concede so easily. His expression grew complicated.

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

At his words, a flash of jealousy crossed Amber's face.

I didn't answer him. I just watched Julian pull his jacket sleeve over that patch of scarred skin.

I put down my cutlery and asked seriously, "Julian, since I have no issue with the tattoo, shouldn't you return my cufflinks?"

Julian stared at me in disbelief. "You want the family heirloom cufflinks back? What are you trying to say? Are you telling me you don't want to marry me?"

I nearly laughed. Who was the one who didn't want this marriage? But I held my tongue, desperate to preserve what little dignity I had left and not sound like some bitter, scorned woman.

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

Julian ripped the cufflinks from his sleeves and tossed them onto the table in front of me. "Fine. They don't suit me. Time for a new pair anyway."

With that, he dropped his napkin, took Amber's hand, and stormed out.

My fingers gently traced the obsidian set in the cufflinks. I had gone to hell and back to find these matching gems in a Sicilian mine. Since he didn't cherish them, he would never get a second chance.

Over the next few days, I threw myself into my wedding preparations. I didn't see Julian once, nor did he call.

The long hours and stress brought my migraines roaring back. After running out of medication, I had to drag myself to the private clinic.

My vision blurred. I stumbled down the hall, one hand braced against the wall for balance, when a familiar voice cut through the haze.

"The doctor said you're fine, so stop worrying," Julian said softly.

I looked up and saw him in the waiting area, cradling Amber in his arms. It had been a long time since I'd seen such tenderness in his eyes.

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

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

Watching them, I couldn't suppress a cold, bitter laugh.

When I got home, I found Julian on the phone, arranging to postpone the venue. He noticed the medicine in my hand, and his brow furrowed.

He asked, "Headache again?"

I hummed in agreement.

He glanced at his phone, hesitating before saying, "I need to go out of town for a few days. We'll have to postpone this wedding too. There are too many urgent family matters to attend to."

My expression was carefully blank. "You're going to Amber, aren't you?"