Julian had been watching me from across the room, visibly pleased with my submissive performance.
"Seraphina, now that you're much more obedient," he began in a flat tone, "our wedding will be held the day after tomorrow."
He paused, glanced at Isla, then added, "Before that, you will publicly apologize to Isla."
His tone left no room for argument.
"If you can't do that," he said, his voice dropping, "I'll personally send you back to the academy."
Isla gently took my hand, a perfect, benevolent smile on her face. "It's alright, Seraphina. I'll accept your apology."
She played her part so perfectly, so graciously, as if she had rehearsed it a thousand times.
I stared at her.
A year ago, I had told them—screamed at them—that I had been framed. But no one had defended me.
Not even Julian. My fiancé, the man I grew up with, had been the first to use that "evidence" to condemn me.
That fabricated proof of "treason" had stripped me of my identity as the Ricci family heiress, allowing Isla to take my place.
Then, he personally sent me to the Augustine Academy.
The academy specialized in "reforming" those who brought shame to the Valachi family.
There was no room for defiance or explanations. One only had to learn silence.
And that, I had finally learned.
I took a deep breath and walked toward Isla.
Then, I slowly bowed, kissed the back of her hand, and said softly, "Isla, I'm sorry."
The room fell silent.
They hadn't expected me to swallow my pride. The me from a year ago never would have.
Isla was stunned for a moment before a small, triumphant laugh escaped her. "It's alright. I forgive you."
Her smile was flawless.
Elena's eyes grew misty. "You're such a good child, Isla."
Lorenzo snorted. "What are you still standing there for? Thank Isla."
Isla gently embraced me. "Don't say that. We're family, aren't we?"
"Thank you," I said, my lips forming an obedient smile.
They thought it was gratitude.
In reality, it was a farewell.
"Since you have repented, you are still a member of the Ricci family," my father announced. "We will announce at the wedding that the 'treason' accusation was a misunderstanding and restore your status as heiress."
"Thank you, Father," I replied, my voice a monotone of obedience.
They thought I was looking forward to the wedding, to the restoration of my status.
They had no idea I was only looking forward to my freedom.
