The Scar That Tested an Alliance

Marco was at an underground auction with Jenna when he saw photos of me and Lucian on the society pages, attending a gala.

He stared at the Seraphina in the photo—her face radiant, a blooming black dahlia. She stood beside another man, arm in arm, a sweet smile on her lips.

An invisible fist clenched around Marco's heart, a wave of agitation washing over him.

"Seraphina… when did she become so beautiful?" Marco muttered to himself.

For five years, he had grown sick of Seraphina's scarred face. That scar was a brand, a constant reminder of this failed alliance. A rival boss had once sneered, "What kind of taste does Marco Bellini have, shackled to a damaged woman like that," and Marco had never taken her to a public event again.

But the stunning woman in the photo was not the Seraphina he remembered.

"Hey, Marco, I'm talking to you!" A heavy hand slapped Marco's shoulder.

Jenna whined, "What's the meaning of this? Do you even want to marry me? I heard Seraphina's dowry was the entire East Side. And you won't even bid on a diamond necklace for me? This is so humiliating! You don't care about me at all, do you?"

Marco's brows knitted in annoyance. He tossed a black card at her.

"Knock yourself out."

Jenna’s pout vanished. She giggled as she took the card, but when she looked up and her eyes met mine across the room, the smile froze on her lips.

"Seraphina… why are you here?"

Jenna glanced from me to Marco, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't tell me you regret the annulment and came here to stalk Marco?"

Lucian and I exchanged a smile.

"We're at an auction. What do you think?"

Hearing my voice, Marco looked up sharply. He stood and strode over to us.

"Seraphina?" he scoffed. "I didn't expect you to be so resourceful, finding a new man days after our marriage ended. But your acting is clumsy. You think I don't see through this act? You're just using this guy to get my attention."

I said nothing.

After all, I’d been down this road before. In the early days of his betrayal, I’d been a woman possessed, frantically sending our family’s men to find evidence of his disloyalty, torturing myself with every detail they brought back. Each time, my reward was his escalating cruelty. He went from secretive to brazen, even bringing Jenna into Bellini territory in front of my own family members, or leaking our business to rivals, goading me to admire his 'power' to do as he pleased.

But the moment the annulment was signed, I had ended the self-torture and drawn a line in the sand.

My face was a blank mask. "You're mistaken," I said faintly. "I'm getting married."

"Married?" Marco laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world. "You? Does this guy have any idea how unstable you are?"

He turned to Lucian, his words laced with provocation.

"Listen, pal, you better understand what you're getting into. Don't sign any papers until you realize you're marrying a psycho who'll tear your life apart. I'm warning you for your own good. I'm her ex-husband. I stared at that face for five years. I know her better than anyone. I'd be careful if I were you."

Lucian glanced at me with a half-smile and nodded.

"Mr. Bellini. What a coincidence. We were going to have an invitation delivered, but since we ran into you, this saves us the postage."

He smoothly pulled an invitation from his coat pocket and handed it to Marco.

"Seraphina and I are getting married next month. You're welcome to come."

The color drained from Marco's face. He stared at the gold-embossed invitation for a long time, then let out a cold laugh.

"Seraphina, you've really stepped up your game. You've even got props. This is some realistic acting. Is there any line you won't cross? You might fool them, but you can't fool me."

Right in front of me, he tore the invitation to shreds.

Lucian's face hardened. "You bastard."

He started to step forward, but I stopped him.

"It's fine," I smiled. "One less guest to worry about."

I turned to the auctioneer, who was introducing the final item.

"Besides, we came for the 'Queen's Heart,' didn't we? It's starting."

When the hammer fell, and I'd casually won the 50-carat pink diamond, the color drained from Jenna's face.

"Marco, look, she bought the 'Queen's Heart'!"