My Heart Shattered Under His Wedding Vows

After two long years away, studying under the guise of business expansion in distant cities, I had cut my time short. My heart ached to return to Valdoro, to the life I had always envisioned—marriage to him, my Don, the one I had trusted and loved for over a decade.

While arranging the newly renovated estate we had long dreamed of, my hands froze on a heavy, concealed chest. Inside, I found stacks of meticulously kept documents—travel permits, meeting schedules, letters—each stamped with the seal of distant families and allied territories. Lorenzo Martinni, my partner in both life and power for ten years, had been traveling constantly, yet never once for me. Not even when I was only a day’s drive from his destination.

The night I had chosen to meet him at the private courtyard where he had promised to make me his, I arrived early. What I saw made my blood run cold: him, on one knee, before another woman.

“Gabriella Bianchi,” he said, voice steady, sharp, a glint of ambition in his eyes, “will you swear your loyalty to me? Speak now, and I will sever all prior alliances without hesitation.”

The anticipation in his gaze pinned me to the marble tiles. My legs felt rooted to the spot. If I was not the one he truly wished to bind his life—and his empire—to, then perhaps it was right that they claimed this union instead.

Yet, when I vanished into the night, he did not rest. Across cities, territories, and borders, he hunted relentlessly, the invisible ties of our shared history compelling him to search the world over for me.

The courtyard shimmered under the glow of ornate lanterns, roses entwined around every pillar, the scent of night-blooming flowers thick in the air. Lorenzo, on one knee, looked exactly as I had dreamed in countless visions of our future. But the figure before him was not me.

“Gabriella, will you pledge your life to me?”

She trembled, one hand over her lips, the other accepting the bouquet he offered. A diamond-studded ring glinted as he slid it onto her finger—their allegiance sealed. Their bodies pressed close, murmurs of devotion carried by the warm night air, piercing me with a knife I could not see.

I traced my own hand over the ring Lorenzo had sent me from across oceans, the one I had altered with a thin thread of crimson to keep it from slipping. Perhaps now, after years, the thread had given way. The ring rolled into the shadows, just as Lorenzo, after two years of travels, had let go of me.

An ill-fitting ring, I thought bitterly, did not deserve to be reclaimed—just as a man who never loved me did not deserve my loyalty.

“Lorenzo, may your union proceed as planned,” I whispered, voice trembling.

“Why?” his voice carried across the distance, laced with desperation. “I want no one but you!”

“Because,” I said, a sharp edge of mischief in my tone, “I intend to crash your ceremony. Only then will it prove your heart belongs to me alone.”

A thrill ran through me, curiosity sharp as a blade, as I wondered how far he would go to defy Gabriella.

“You reckless fool,” he laughed through the line, a mixture of admiration and exasperation, “only you could devise such a scheme.”

“I’d better pack a second pair of boots,” I teased, “so I can outrun you when we flee together.”

“Do you truly plan to ruin her wedding?”

“Marrying her out of obligation is the furthest I can go. If she cannot stop her mate from being claimed, she cannot blame me.”

Their laughter, bold and reckless, tore through me like a shot in the chest. I stumbled back, pressed against a cold wall, knees quivering. To keep my sobs silent, I pressed my hand over my mouth and retreated into the alleyways, collapsing halfway down the cobbled path.

Home offered little comfort. I dialed my mentor, voice tight with grief and fury.

“Professor, I will join the Valdoro expedition you spoke of,” I said, each word biting against the ache in my chest.

His voice softened, concerned. “I thought you intended to settle in Valdoro after the union. Has Lorenzo agreed to this arrangement? Are you certain you do not wish to reconsider?”

“The ceremony is over. From this moment, my focus is entirely on the work ahead,” I said, pressing my hands to the bruises and scrapes that a night of hidden turmoil had left.

He, who had always guided me like a daughter of the family, sensed my unrest. “I will add your name to today’s roster. Return soon. Work will occupy your mind, and remember—loyalty is not for those who do not value it.”

If not for the mountain of evidence—Lorenzo’s travel documents—I might have denied the truth: he had never loved me as I believed. Month after month, he had crossed continents and territories to be with Gabriella. My rare encounters after long journeys were all the joy I had ever known.

When I arrived back at the courtyard, I tried to convince myself his travels had been for business or family duty. But seeing him pledge himself to Gabriella—the very woman who had haunted my youth—made the truth undeniable. Gabriella had kept him from me, forcing him to weave tales of longing and obligation, hiding his true devotion. He had allowed me to be humiliated to satisfy her, despite knowing the enmity between us.

I sank into a steaming bath, trying to still the shivers that shook me, when his voice cut through the night:

“Adriana,” he called, commanding yet vulnerable, “where are you? The moon rises over the seaside courtyard, and it is where you belong!”