126. Getting Married.

Elena.

I woke up to the gentle sunlight peeking through my curtains, casting a warm glow in my room. Blinking away sleep, I noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on my bed. A small note accompanied the flowers, and my heart raced as I reached for it.

The note read, "This is to dry your tears." Mixed emotions swirled within me—curiosity, hope, and a hint of apprehension. Who could have left me this thoughtful gift? And why?

With the bouquet of roses in my hands, I felt a surge of anticipation. For a brief moment, I dared to imagine that Deangelo had regained his lost memories, that he remembered the love we once shared. Hope flickered in my eyes as I hurried downstairs, enveloped in the sweet scent of the roses, as if they held promises of something new.

But as I descended the stairs, my excitement faded into confusion and disbelief. The house buzzed with excitement, guests chatting and laughing, their faces filled with joy and anticipation. Something big was happening, but I couldn't comprehend what it was.

Approaching Mia, I hoped she could enlighten me about the festive atmosphere. Her eyes shimmered with uncertainty, her voice tinged with fear. She revealed that Deangelo and Sofia were getting married.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and the world around me blurred as I absorbed this revelation. A rush of emotions overwhelmed me—disbelief, betrayal, and heartache intertwined, threatening to drown out the celebratory atmosphere. Thoughts raced through my mind, desperately searching for an explanation, trying to make sense of this sudden turn of events. How could I have been so blind to the impending union of the man I loved and the woman who had threatened to expose my secrets?

In that moment, I locked eyes with Alessandro, a mysterious smirk playing on his lips. A surge of recognition coursed through me, a realization that he held secrets, more than he let on. His gaze penetrated my soul, as if he relished the chaos he had orchestrated, delighting in the devastation etched upon my face.

Standing there, clutching the delicate rose, my mind swirled with thoughts. Who could have sent this symbol of affection? As I pondered the possibilities, my gaze shifted, and I caught Luca's intense gaze fixed upon me. Concern and understanding radiated from his eyes, as if he understood the inner turmoil I was grappling with. It was as if he reached out to me through that single crimson rose, a silent message of support and solace.

Before I could fully grasp the significance of Luca's gesture, Sofia appeared at my side, gripping my hand firmly yet strangely comforting. Her voice was filled with forced enthusiasm as she urged me to join her at the center of the room. Obliged to play along, I forced a smile, attempting to convey the joy that eluded me.

I was caught in a web of pretense, trapped in a charade that threatened to suffocate my spirit. Surrounded by a jubilant atmosphere, my heart screamed silently in agony. Each congratulatory word spoken, each well-wish offered, felt like a dagger piercing my already wounded heart. The weight of expectations bore down on me, demanding that I feign happiness for a union that tore my world apart.

Inside me, a storm was raging. Every part of my being ached for what could have been, for the love that slipped away from my grasp. But I was stuck in this game of pretending, forced to hide my pain behind a fake smile. It was hard to swallow, pretending to be happy when deep down, I was hurting and yearning for something more.

As the night grew darker, the sounds of laughter and glasses clinking faded away, leaving behind a heavy silence. The joyous atmosphere had vanished, leaving me feeling empty and hollow, just like my heart. With hesitant steps, tears welling up in my eyes, I searched for Sofia. I found her standing alone in a dimly lit room, her expression unreadable. When our eyes met, I mustered up the little courage I had left and asked the burning question, "Why are you doing this, Sofia?"

Her response cut through the air like a sharp knife, and her laughter carried a cruel edge that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, Elena, my dear," she taunted, "do you really want to know? If you dare to expose the truth, I'll make sure everyone finds out about your secret, about your true origins from the Ferrari park."

Fear and anger surged through my veins, intertwining and creating a whirlwind of emotions. I had always known that Sofia had power over me, a threat that loomed over my head like a dark cloud. But hearing her repeat those words with such spite hurt deeper than I could have imagined. Tears mixed with the bitterness in my heart, reminding me of the precarious position I found myself in.

Just as Sofia turned to walk away, leaving me to grapple with the weight of her warning, a figure emerged from the shadows. Luca, with his intense gaze and unwavering presence, stepped forward. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a shared knowledge of the secrets we both held.

Our eyes locked, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. It felt as though he could see the pain and struggles I carried within me. It was a connection forged from our shared battles and unspoken truths. But before our silent connection could deepen, another person interrupted, shattering the fragile moment. The weight of their presence pressed down on us, tearing us apart and leaving us adrift in a sea of unspoken emotions.

Taking a shaky breath, my heart still raw from the encounter with Sofia, I summoned a weak smile for the newcomer. I retreated back into the safety of my mask, hiding the turmoil that threatened to consume me. It was a dance I had become all too familiar with, a delicate balancing act between revealing my true self and putting on a façade.