The Don's Heir Faked His Death, So I Died for Real

Just days before our wedding, I was told that my fiancé, Matteo Ferrara, had died in a car crash. The car had been completely destroyed. The only thing his men recovered was a bloodstained diamond tiara. His father, the Don, pressed a pistol to my forehead and growled, “If Matteo hadn't been rushing to give you the tiara he designed himself, he would still be alive!” His adopted older sister, Isabella Ferrara, was at the Don's feet, playing a video of Matteo's last words as he sank into the sea. “Don! Matteo's last wish was for Layla to live! Please don't kill her. Let him rest in peace.” So I was locked in the Ferrara family's punishment room and made to kneel for 72 straight hours. They didn't let me out until the fourth night. But Matteo's funeral was already over. I never even got to see him one last time. Numb with grief, I slipped into my wedding dress, swallowed poison, and made my way to the dock where Matteo had supposedly died. I'd just climbed over the railing when applause and whistles erupted behind me. Isabella rushed over, practically jumping for joy. “I won, Matteo!” The crowd parted. Matteo stepped out of an armored car with a cashmere wrap. He ruffled Isabella's hair and gave a resigned sigh. “A bet's a bet. You wanted a dress just like Layla's, right? I'll have one made for you when we get back.” Only then did he look at me. He draped the wrap over my shoulders. “It's freezing out here, and you're soaked. You'll catch a cold.” Then he smiled. “Isabella was worried you only wanted to become the next Donna, that you didn't actually love me. So she came up with this little test. “Well, congratulations. You passed. Now let's go get married.” I stared at him, struggling to process what I'd just heard. None of it had been real. The fatal crash and the video of his last words as he sank into the sea were all part of Isabella's elaborate prank. Matteo had staked my life on their bet. A metallic taste filled my mouth. I struggled to steady my trembling body against the pain, then shook my head. “Call off the wedding. “I don't want to marry you anymore.” Chapter 1 Matteo's hand froze on my shoulder. “What did you say?” The burning in my throat seared its way down into my chest. The pain was almost unbearable. I held on to the railing until my fingertips went white. “I said call off the wedding.” Isabella looked at me innocently. “Come on, Layla. You're not seriously upset, are you? “I was only helping Matteo figure out whether you really love him or just want to be the next Donna. “Well, you passed! You love him enough to die for him. Isn't that something to celebrate?” His friends burst out laughing as soon as she said it. “Matteo spent three whole days here just to pull this off. “Isabella started planning the whole thing a week ago. “You ought to thank them. Otherwise, how would any of us know you really loved him?” I looked up at Matteo, my voice shaking. “You were near the dock this whole time?” “In the security room at the estate across the water.” He said it so casually, as if the 72 hours I'd spent kneeling in the punishment room and the Don pressing a gun to my forehead meant nothing. For him, I had knelt until my knees bled. I had even given up my parents' keepsake just to see him one last time. All that time, he'd been sitting comfortably in the estate across the water, watching me fall apart just to prove how much I loved him. “I waited for you for three days.” I looked down at the wounds on my knees. They had barely scabbed over, and climbing over the railing had torn them open again. Matteo gave them a careless glance. “It's over now. When we get back, I'll have my private doctor treat your knees.” Before he could say another word, Isabella let out a little cry, clutched her knee, and leaned heavily against him. “Matteo, I think I ran too fast. My knee's acting up again.” Matteo let go of me immediately, turned to steady her, and dropped to one knee to look at her leg. “Can you stand?” he asked gently. “No.” Isabella's voice turned tearful. “What am I going to do? What if I can never walk again?” Matteo swept Isabella up into his arms. “Don't talk like that. I'm taking you to the hospital.” As they left, Isabella made sure to glance back and smirk at me. Only then did I notice she was wearing the diamond tiara that was supposed to be mine. I called after him, “Matteo.” He turned back, clearly irritated. “What now?” “That tiara. You designed it for me.” Matteo glanced at the top of Isabella's head and frowned. “She's only borrowing it for a few days. She helped me find out if your feelings were real. The least I can do is reward her.” The day before, Giulia Ferrara, Matteo's mother and the Donna, had thrown that same tiara in my face. She screamed that I wasn't good enough for Matteo or the tiara, and that I had killed her son. Now Isabella ran her fingers over the tiara, giving me a smug look. She was wearing the tiara Matteo had designed for me. Soon, she'd have an identical copy of my custom-made wedding dress, too. Maybe even my husband wouldn't be mine alone. I bent down and picked the cashmere wrap up off the ground. The moment my fingertips touched it, my skin broke out in an itchy red rash. He remembered that Isabella loved cashmere, but he'd forgotten I was severely allergic to wool. Even the slightest touch gave me hives. The taste of blood in my throat kept getting stronger. I looked up at him. “Matteo, what if I really had died here today?” Isabella burst out laughing. “You didn't even make it over the railing. How would you have died?” Matteo laughed too, as if I were being silly. “Stop trying to scare everyone with all this talk about dying. Go home and get ready. I'll come get you for the wedding later. “You're the only woman I'll ever marry.” He carried Isabella to the armored car, and his friends followed. Just before the door closed, I heard Isabella's voice. “You promised me a dress exactly like hers, made just for me. I want to have a whole photo shoot wearing it.” The black car disappeared into the night. My legs finally gave out, and I slid down against the railing, collapsing onto the ground. Blood trickled from my lips onto the white skirt of my wedding dress, leaving a large, spreading stain. The phone in my pocket buzzed. It was a text from Matteo. “Be good. The driver will come back for you in a bit.” “Isabella's in bad shape. I'm taking her to the hospital first.” Above it was the message he'd sent me before the crash. “Layla, your tiara's ready. Wait until I get back. I want to put it on you myself. You're going to be the most beautiful bride.” Footsteps approached. It was one of the family's men on duty at the dock. The moment he saw the blood on my lips, his face went pale, and he radioed for an ambulance. As the medics came running with a stretcher, my phone rang. It was Matteo. With the last of my strength, I swiped to answer. But it was Isabella on the other end, her voice sweet and giggly. “Matteo's getting me checked in. He wants to know why you're ignoring his messages. You're not still mad, are you?” I opened my mouth, but blood came out before any words could. Before I could answer, Isabella's voice turned mocking. “Layla, don't tell me you're planning to play the victim just to make Matteo feel guilty. “Save it. Tonight, he's mine.” She hung up. As the medics cut away the sleeve of my wedding dress, one of them bent over me. “Did you swallow something poisonous? What was it? How long ago? Does your family know?” Looking out at the calm sea, I slowly closed my eyes. “He doesn't need to know.” Chapter 2 When I woke up, pain stabbed through every part of my body. The doctor leaned over me and asked again how long ago I had taken the poison. I didn't even have the strength to shake my head. All I could do was blink. He turned to the nurse. “Give her another dose of the antidote, and keep trying to reach Mr. Ferrara. Tell him she's in critical condition and we need him to sign the critical condition notice.” Nora, the nurse, picked up my phone and called Matteo over and over. The first call. The second... After six calls, he still hadn't answered. The last of my hope drained away. I signaled Nora to stop calling. Just then, Matteo called back. The moment the call connected, his impatient voice came through. “Layla, what is it this time? “First you won't answer my texts, and now you're calling like crazy.” Before he finished, Isabella asked what she should wear to the wedding. He turned to her, his voice softening. Nora paused at his sudden change in tone, then spoke up. “Mr. Ferrara, this is the Ferrara family's private hospital. Ms. Marino has been poisoned, and we're trying to save her. Please...” “Layla's been poisoned? What happened?” Matteo's urgent voice cut her off before she could finish. All the impatience from a moment ago was gone. There was nothing left but concern. “Give her whatever medicine she needs, right now. Nothing can happen to her. “If anything happens to Layla, your whole hospital is finished.” Nora was about to answer when Isabella's voice cut in. “Matteo, calm down. “Layla was perfectly fine when we left her at the dock. Now, all of a sudden, she's been poisoned? Don't you think that's a little too convenient?” Matteo paused. “Layla wouldn't joke about something like this...” Isabella sighed. “I'm not saying Layla's lying to you . It's just that today she found out the truth about the test, and she must be really angry. “Maybe she's just trying to get even. Give you a taste of your own medicine. “Matteo, you're going to be the next Don. You can't let a woman wrap you around her little finger.” Nora rushed to explain, “Mr. Ferrara, this isn't a joke. Ms. Marino is in critical condition right now.” Now Matteo sounded suspicious too. “Put her on. I want to hear it from her.” Isabella continued, “Layla, don't blame Matteo for having doubts. “You were fine when we split up, and the next thing we know, you're saying you've been poisoned. Anyone would think you were lying. “Besides, Matteo will be Don one day. He has to be wary of everyone around him. If anyone could threaten to kill themselves to control him, how could he ever command respect?” Nora wanted to argue, but I managed to lift my hand. She held the phone to my ear. “Layla, what exactly are you trying to pull?” When I didn't answer right away, Matteo ran out of patience. “If you keep this up, we're calling off the wedding.” My throat tasted of rust, and every word scraped it raw. “I'm not lying. I really did take poison.” He scoffed. He didn't believe a word. “What kind of poison lets you talk this clearly? Licorice?” Low laughter came from the other end of the line. His friends were all there, waiting to see how my little show would end. “Fine. Wait there.” Nora and I both thought he finally believed us. Nora reached for the phone, ready to give Matteo the hospital's address. Then he spoke again, shattering that hope. “I'll send my driver over to sign whatever needs signing. Consider that my part in your little act. “When you're done acting, come back to the estate on your own.” Before, I would have shouted at him and demanded to know why he believed someone else over his own fiancée. But this time, after a long silence, I said quietly, “The day my mother died, you told me to wait for you too.” The line suddenly went quiet. The night my mother was assassinated by a rival family, Isabella said someone was following her and she was too scared to sleep. Matteo was supposed to wait with me outside the operating room, but one call from her and he was gone. He said he'd only be half an hour and told me to wait for him. I waited until dawn. I waited until my mother's body came out under a white sheet. But he never came. Matteo's breath caught. “I was wrong that day... “But I've apologized so many times. What's the point of bringing it up again and again?” Isabella interrupted in the background, “Matteo, I'm cold. Can I have your jacket?” The soft rustle of fabric came through the phone. I heard him tell her quietly not to catch a chill, his voice tender in a way I had once thought he reserved for me. “Layla, that's enough. I'll pretend today never happened.” He turned back to the phone, his voice hard again. “The wedding's pushed back to the day after tomorrow. You'd better be on time. “If you don't show up, you can forget about ever having a wedding.” Then he hung up. I didn't have the strength to hold the phone anymore, so Nora held it for me. The door opened, and the doctor came in with the test results. Just then, the phone chimed with a new message. Nora looked at the report, then at the phone. She opened her mouth several times, but said nothing. In the end, she just looked at me, stricken. I gave a tiny shake of my head to tell her I could still hold on. Her eyes were red as she read the new message aloud. Matteo had written, “Did you hear what I said?” I managed a nod, and Nora helped me reply with one word. “Okay.” You faked your death to test my love. Now I'll give you a goodbye that's real. I agreed to show up at the wedding. I never said I'd still be alive. Nora turned the phone screen toward me. As I watched the reply go through, my hand dropped to the bed, and my heart stopped beating. Just before my eyes closed for good, one last message from Matteo appeared on the screen. “That's the kind of wife the Don's heir deserves.” Chapter 3 The day before the wedding, a full day had passed since I was declared dead. Isabella pestered Matteo all morning, begging to go see our new home. Matteo frowned and refused. “No. I promised Layla she'd be the first one I took inside.” Isabella clung to his arm and pleaded sweetly. “I just want to help you get everything ready. You know how picky Layla is. What if something isn't to her liking and she throws another fit?” Matteo was quiet for a while. He had to admit Isabella had a point. Lately, Layla had been getting harder and harder to please. If she came back tomorrow and caused another scene, he'd have his hands full. He stood up and grabbed his jacket. “We're just looking. Don't touch her things.” Isabella's face lit up. “Don't worry. I'm just helping you make sure it's right.” It was an estate by the sea. He had picked it out long ago as our home after the wedding. The moment Isabella walked in and saw the huge wedding portrait hanging in the living room, jealousy flashed in her eyes. “Take that down. Layla hasn't passed the final test yet.” She looked away from it and smiled at Matteo. “We can put it back up after she passes the wedding test tomorrow.” Matteo frowned. “The wedding portrait is one thing. The test is another.” “I know you care about her.” Isabella pouted. “It's only for now. It's not like it's never going back up.” Matteo stared at the portrait for a few seconds and didn't object again. That was as good as a yes. Isabella clapped her hands, summoning the men. They took down the frame, and she shoved it into a cardboard box in the corner. Then she turned and opened the closet in the main bedroom. Inside hung the lace veil my mother had sewn for me. When I tried it on, she held my hand. “Wear this on your wedding day, sweetheart. I know you'll have a lifetime of happiness.” But she never lived to see my wedding. Isabella pulled the veil out and wrinkled her nose. “This is so cheap. It's nowhere near good enough for the future Don.” Matteo's voice hardened. “Layla's mother made that. Put it back.” The smile vanished from Isabella's face. She pouted and turned away. “I've been running all over the place for your wedding, and Layla hasn't even shown her face once. I touch one thing of hers, and you yell at me?” Her eyes immediately filled with tears, as though he'd deeply wronged her. Matteo was quiet for a few seconds, and then his voice softened. “Just put it away for now. Don't let her see it.” Only then did Isabella smile, satisfied. She balled up the veil and tossed it into the box. At the very bottom of the box was the only photo of my parents together. Isabella said everyone in that picture was dead anyway and told the maids to take it away too. Matteo stood by without saying a word. Before long, Isabella had the wedding planning team come over. Then Matteo's phone rang. It was the hospital. He glanced at the number and hung up. The head wedding planner greeted Matteo and opened his laptop. “Mr. Ferrara, we've put together a highlight reel of the test for tomorrow's ceremony, along with Ms. Isabella's second test. Would you like to take a look?” The screen lit up. The footage showed me perched precariously over the railing at the dock, seconds away from falling. The next second, Matteo stepped out of the armored car. Off camera, Isabella was laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight. “Matteo, Layla loves you enough to die for you.” As she laughed, a line of text appeared on the screen. “Only those who pass the test deserve a place by his side.” Applause broke out around the room. “Ms. Marino's going to cry when she sees this. “How romantic! Ms. Marino must be madly in love with Mr. Ferrara.” Matteo's eyes stayed fixed on the frozen frame. It was a long time before he finally said, “Cut that part. “And the part afterward where she collapses. Leave it out of tomorrow's version.” The planner hesitated. “But that's the most emotional part...” “I said cut it.” Matteo looked up at him. “I decide what gets shown at my wedding. Argue with me again, and you'll find yourself staring down the barrel of my gun.” Isabella walked into my walk-in closet and casually tore open the wedding gift I had prepared for Matteo. The box was full of keepsakes from all our years together. On top was a spent shell casing from the first mission we'd worked together, when Matteo had taken a bullet for me. It was the token that marked the beginning of our relationship. Isabella picked it up, looked at it, and snorted. “You kept this piece of junk?” Matteo snatched the casing from her. “Don't touch that,” he snapped. Isabella teared up at once. “I was just looking for stuff to put in the video. Why are you yelling at me?” Matteo looked at her for a few seconds, then finally let go of it. Isabella smiled. Then she picked up the photo taken when the three of us first met and blacked out my face with a pen. “Oh, and I've already planned round two of the test for tomorrow.” The hospital called again. Matteo didn't even look. He just blocked the number. Isabella leaned in. “The hospital again?” Matteo grunted and opened our text thread. The last message was still that one reply of mine. “Okay.” Isabella saw it too and gave a cold laugh. “She already said she's coming to the wedding. She's only causing this drama so you'll comfort her. “She's going to be the Donna. If she keeps acting like a spoiled brat, the other families will make a laughingstock of us.” The men carried the boxes out the door, and a corner of that veil trailed across the muddy lawn. Isabella rested her head on Matteo's shoulder. “If she's still mad tomorrow, we'll move on to round two and call off the wedding in front of everyone! “How about that? Then she won't dare make a fuss with you again.” Matteo looked at the half-empty wall and frowned. “Don't go too far. Layla will take it seriously.” Isabella smiled. “She can't bear to leave you, let alone die.” Matteo seemed pleased with that, and a smile returned to his face. He picked up his phone and sent me a text. “Don't be late to the wedding tomorrow.” It showed as delivered. Only this time, no reply would ever come. Chapter 4 On the day of the wedding, I didn't show up. Before Matteo left for the church, he called me for the first time that day. It went straight to voicemail. Even when the wedding motorcade pulled up outside the church, there was still no answer from me. When Matteo's mother got out of the car, she was already scowling. “I knew he shouldn't marry a woman from some no-name family. A girl from a proper family would never be late to her own wedding and keep us all waiting. “Who does she think she is? Matteo, call off the wedding right now!” Isabella, wearing a copy of my wedding dress with that diamond tiara on her head, came over and slipped her arm through Giulia's. “Donna, please don't be upset. Layla would never give up her chance to become the next Donna. “She's just sulking, waiting for Matteo to come and make it up to her.” Matteo gripped his phone. On the screen were more than a dozen messages he'd sent, all unanswered. Anger flared in him. “She promised she'd come, and she's making everyone wait.” By then, the whole family had arrived. The priest approached Matteo for the third time and quietly asked when the bride would arrive. Matteo had run out of patience. He looked down and sent me one last text. “The wedding starts at noon. If you're not here, you can forget about ever becoming the Donna.” Isabella grabbed his phone and sent me a voice message. “Layla, quit playing games. If you miss your own wedding, Matteo won't give you another chance.” The voice message went out, and still I didn't reply. Isabella cheered, “Let round two begin!” Quiet, knowing laughter rippled through the guests. They all knew this was a setup. They'd seen this game too many times. Isabella had always loved testing me, and Matteo had never really stopped her. The men guarding the entrance locked the doors. A huge screen descended. Giant letters across it read, “Engagement Canceled.” Isabella stood at Matteo's side, smiling like she'd already won. She was sure I would rush in, frantic, and beg Matteo not to leave me. But even when the wedding bells rang, no one came to tell Matteo where I was. Matteo's face darkened. The air around him felt heavy with anger. “She actually had the nerve not to come.” Isabella hooked her arm through his. “The ceremony's already started. Why don't I take her place at the altar? We can't keep everyone waiting.” As she said it, she was already lifting her skirt and heading toward the priest. At the same time, the big screen switched to photos of little moments from their everyday life together. Isabella straightening Matteo's bow tie. Matteo putting his jacket around her shoulders... Next to the photos was a caption. “Always by your side. No tests required.” The guests began cheering them on. “Isabella and Matteo really are perfect together.” “If Layla doesn't hurry up, she's going to lose her groom to another woman.” Matteo looked up at the screen, his expression darkening. He turned sharply toward the control booth. “Who told you to play that? Turn it off.” Isabella immediately looked at him, wounded. “Why? I worked so hard on this.” “Turn it off!” Matteo's voice left no room for argument. “Layla won't like it. Today is her wedding.” Then Matteo turned back and kept his eyes on the entrance. The next second, the doors swung open. Matteo strode toward them at once. But it was Luca Bassi and two security guards from the family hospital. Matteo recognized Luca. Three days earlier, Luca had helped me investigate Matteo's supposed disappearance at sea. A hush fell over the church. Luca walked up to Matteo. “Mr. Ferrara, the family's private hospital has been trying to reach you since last night.” Matteo's hands clenched into fists, and his jaw tightened. “She still hasn't had enough? She's even got you playing along now? “Tell Layla I'm giving her one last chance. “If she shows up right now, the wedding goes on.” Luca didn't answer. He held up a clear evidence bag. Inside was a photo of me in my bloodstained wedding dress. The dress still bore the monogram Matteo had designed for the two of us. The anger on Matteo's face turned to confusion, then fear. But Isabella laughed. “Anyone can fake a pale face with makeup. That blood could just be paint. The whole thing looks staged to me. “Who knows, maybe she's copying Matteo and faking her death to make him feel guilty.” “Where's Layla?” Matteo stared at the photo. “Tell her to come here herself.” Luca studied him for a moment before speaking quietly. “Ms. Marino passed away at 2:17 a.m. two nights ago. We couldn't save her.”