Part 2Buried on His Wedding Day

"I didn’t think you’d take your own health as some kind of joke." Milo’s voice cut through the silence, laced with frustration. "Was Lucian really worth it? Worth risking your own body just to please him?"

Milo had been my friend long before I married Lucian. In fact, he was the one who introduced me to him in the first place.

It was at one of those annual parties for the mafia families of New York City—lavish gatherings meant for celebrating, forging alliances, and striking business deals. I had never been fond of those events, but that year, Milo somehow talked me into going. That was the night I met Lucian, and I fell for him—hard.

Milo sighed, his brows furrowed into a tight knot. "Seeing you like this makes me wonder if introducing you to Lucian was a mistake from the start." His voice softened, but the frustration remained. "Elara, you shouldn’t do this. Degrading yourself—for what? That bastard? Haven’t you given him enough already? You handed him deals that should have been yours in the first place. Now he’s successful, and what does he do? He leaves you for that whore. And you’re still chasing after him—for what? Love?"

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I know what you mean, Milo. But I can’t control it. I loved him. I gave him everything I could. And now… I’m just repaying my debts, that’s all."

Milo exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "How are you, then? The doctor refused to tell me. She said no one outside the family could know your condition." His frustration was obvious.

"Nothing serious." I forced a weak smile. "I guess I’ve just been exhausted lately."

Milo pulled up a chair and sat down, studying me with sharp eyes, as if trying to see through the lie. After a moment, he shook his head. "Don’t lie to me, Elara. You look terrible."

My smile faded. I didn’t answer, but my silence was enough. Milo’s expression darkened. "Does Lucian know?"

I shook my head.

"Why haven’t you told him?" His grip tightened on his phone. "He should know. If he did, maybe he’d be here instead of—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice barely above a whisper. My tears threatened to fall. "Please, as my friend, respect this. I don’t want to tell him. If he chooses to believe I’m the villain, then let me be. I won’t cause more trouble for my family—or his."

If it weren’t for yesterday’s conversation, I would never have known that Lucian had resented me all these years for marrying him.

And I wanted to tell him… that it wasn’t my intention to force him into this marriage. It wasn’t my father’s threats, either.

Yes, I loved him. I loved him from the moment I met him. But I never wanted him to break up with the woman he loved to marry me.

It was his own family who came to me, begging for help.

"Please, Elara." Lucian’s mother, Lilia, had held my hands, her eyes red with desperation. "Our deals with the Southerns have fallen through, and now Lucian is threatening to leave us for that woman—Selene. We’re desperate."

"I’ve always admired your father and your family’s work. Please, I know you love Lucian. Save him. Save us."

I had agreed.

I have to admit—part of me had hoped that, after our marriage, Lucian would learn to love me. That I could give him what she couldn’t—wealth, power, status.

"You’re better than this, Elara. I know you are."

If Lucian hadn’t given me those divorce papers yesterday… if he hadn’t spent the night with Selene… maybe I would have told him the truth.

That I never wanted anything from this marriage—except him.

But now, what was the point?

Telling him would only invite his mockery.

So let him believe I was the villain.

It didn’t matter anymore.

I was dying anyway.

…

Lucian called me just as I was leaving the hospital.

“The judge approved our divorce petition. Meet me at the courthouse this afternoon. I’ll have a lawyer on standby.”