Love, Lies, and Vows

The chilling echo of footsteps faded into the shadows as the hoods were ripped away. Alicia's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. The dim light revealed not strangers, but faces carved deep into the fabric of her trust. Faces she'd shared secrets with. Faces she'd believed in. And there, standing at the forefront, was Lorenzo, Marco's closest confidant—his right-hand man—the one person they never questioned.

Marco's jaw clenched, his eyes dark with disbelief.

"Lorenzo?" His voice was a dangerous whisper, thick with betrayal. "You? After everything?"

Lorenzo's smirk was a venomous slash across his face. "Trust blinds even the sharpest minds, Marco. You handed me your empire without realizing I was carving out my own."

Alicia's fists trembled. The sting wasn't just in Lorenzo's words—it was in the memories: the loyalty, the laughter, the brotherhood. All a lie.

Without warning, Marco lunged, his rage explosive. They crashed against the walls, fists flying, raw emotion spilling like wildfire. Alicia's shout pierced through the chaos.

"Marco, stop! He's not worth it!"

Marco froze, his chest heaving. Blood trickled from a split lip, but it was his eyes—haunted, betrayed—that spoke louder.

"You'll regret this, Lorenzo." His words dripped with venom as Lorenzo was dragged away by their men.

---

Two Days Later

The betrayal still lingered like ash in the air, but life didn't pause. Not for heartbreak. Not even for vengeance.

Alicia sat by the large window of Marco's estate, sunlight catching the healing bruises on her skin. Her mother fussed over her, adjusting strands of her dark hair.

"You're not lifting a finger today," her mother declared. "Not with your wedding so close."

Yes, the wedding. It felt surreal amidst the chaos, but maybe—just maybe—it was the anchor they both needed.

Marco appeared at the doorway, his sharp suit doing little to mask the exhaustion etched on his face. Yet when his eyes met Alicia's, the tension eased, replaced by something softer—something real.

"Ready to pick a dress, Mrs. Almost Marco?" he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting.

---

Wedding Shopping Chaos

The boutique was a symphony of silks and whispers. Alicia tried on dress after dress, each more stunning than the last, but nothing felt… right. Until she slipped into the one: a sleek, figure-hugging masterpiece with delicate lace that traced her curves like poetry.

Marco barged into the fitting room without warning, ignoring the gasps of the boutique staff. His eyes darkened the moment he saw her.

"Turn around," he said softly, his voice low, almost a command.

She obeyed, her heart racing as his fingers brushed the delicate lace on her back, tracing the dip of her spine.

"This dress isn't just beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against her neck, "it's dangerous. Because if you wear this, I won't be able to think straight."

Alicia turned to face him, their eyes locking. The room felt too small, too charged. But instead of kissing her, Marco stepped back, his lips curving into a wicked smirk.

"I'll wait… for now."

---

Meanwhile, Marco's Side

Marco hated suit shopping. The mirrors felt like they were mocking him, reflecting back a man who had too much on his shoulders. But when Alicia appeared, tossing a sleek black tux over her arm with an arched brow, he followed her silently into the fitting room.

When he stepped out, dressed in the perfectly tailored suit, Alicia's reaction was immediate. She didn't say a word. Just crossed the room, adjusting his collar, her fingers lingering longer than necessary.

Marco caught her hand, pulling her closer. Their faces were inches apart.

"You like it?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

She didn't answer with words. Just that look—dark, defiant, filled with something unspoken.

Marco leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, not quite a kiss, just a promise.

"Good. Because I only dress up for you."

---

The Calm Before the Storm

Later that evening, their fathers met, glasses of expensive scotch in hand.

"Our children's marriage is more than a union," Marco's father said. "It's a fortress. Against betrayal. Against enemies."

But outside those walls, shadows moved. Lorenzo wasn't done. And their wedding? It would be the perfect battleground.

To be continued…