Chapter 5
Serena's POV
One week before the wedding, Marcus appeared.
Marcus — Dominic's best friend since college. The one who always looked at me with pity. Turns out that pity was guilt, poorly disguised.
He found me at the florist, where I was approving the final arrangements with Dante's wedding planner.
"Serena." He approached cautiously, hands in his pockets. "Can we talk?"
I nodded to the planner — a quiet dismissal — and turned to face him. "You have five minutes."
"I know you hate me," he started. "And you should. I knew about Dominic and Vivienne for months. I should've told you."
"Yes," I agreed. "You should have."
He flinched. "I thought — I told myself it was none of my business. That Dominic would come to his senses. But when I saw those invitations go out..." He shook his head. "He's spiraling, Serena. Canceled the wedding venue twice. Vivienne's threatening to tell your father about the pregnancy, and Dominic's losing it."
I arranged a white gardenia in the sample bouquet, not looking up. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I think Vivienne is lying." Marcus lowered his voice. "About the pregnancy. About everything."
My hands stilled. "Go on."
"I did some digging. Vivienne visited three different clinics before she told Dominic she was pregnant. One of them was a fertility specialist — not OB-GYN. Why would a pregnant woman need a fertility clinic?"
The implications settled cold in my stomach.
"You think she faked it," I said.
"I think she manufactured a reason for Dominic to leave you," Marcus said carefully. "And when you didn't fight back — when you just... accepted the break — she pushed for the wedding immediately. Before anyone could ask questions."
I set the bouquet down. "And you're telling me this now because?"
"Because even if you hate Dominic, you deserve the truth." He paused. "And because Dante Valenti scares the hell out of me, and I don't want you walking into something dangerous just to get revenge."
I looked at Marcus then — really looked. He seemed genuine. Exhausted. Like carrying this secret had cost him something.
"Marcus," I said quietly. "I appreciate you coming to me. But this doesn't change anything."
"You're still marrying Valenti?"
"I am."
"Even knowing Dominic was manipulated?"
I smiled — small, tired. "Being manipulated doesn't excuse what he did. He chose to believe Vivienne over me. He chose to plan a wedding behind my back. He chose to lie."
Marcus nodded slowly. "Fair enough."
"But Marcus?" I added as he turned to leave. "The information about the clinics. Keep digging. If Vivienne faked a pregnancy to trap Dominic — that's not just deception. That's something else entirely."
He met my eyes. "You think she's dangerous?"
I thought about the way Vivienne smiled — that delicate, practiced curve. The way she always positioned herself as the victim. The way people fell over themselves to protect her.
"I think," I said carefully, "she's more dangerous than anyone gives her credit for."
...
That night, I told Dante everything Marcus had said.
We were in his study — him behind the desk, me in the leather chair across from him, legs curled beneath me. We'd fallen into this routine without meaning to: evening meetings where we discussed the wedding, the guest list, our families. Sometimes we talked until midnight.
"So the pregnancy may be fabricated," Dante said, leaning back.
"Possibly."
"Does that change anything for you?"
I considered the question. "No. But it makes me more certain about one thing."
"What's that?"
"Vivienne came into my life with an agenda. Everything — the fainting, the fragility, the loneliness — it was calculated. She targeted Dominic because he was mine."
Dante watched me for a long moment. Then: "You should know something."
I straightened.
"Three months ago," he said, "Vivienne reached out to my family. Tried to arrange a meeting with me."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"She presented herself as your father's stepdaughter. Implied she might be a better match for the Valenti alliance than you."
I stared at him. "She tried to take your arrangement too?"
"She tried," Dante confirmed. "My family dismissed her immediately. But I remembered her face." His jaw tightened. "So when you called and accepted my proposal — I already knew what was happening. I knew someone was trying to take everything from you."
The room felt very quiet.
"Is that why you agreed so quickly?" I asked.
He stood, moved around the desk, and crouched in front of my chair. This close, I could see the flecks of silver in his dark eyes.
"I agreed because I wanted you, Serena," he said simply. "The rest was just confirmation that I was right to wait."
My heart did something unfamiliar — something warm and terrifying.
"One week," he said softly. "Then you'll be mine. And no one — not your stepsister, not your ex — will ever make you feel disposable again."
I believed him.
God help me, I believed him.
One week before the wedding, Marcus appeared.
Marcus — Dominic's best friend since college. The one who always looked at me with pity. Turns out that pity was guilt, poorly disguised.
He found me at the florist, where I was approving the final arrangements with Dante's wedding planner.
"Serena." He approached cautiously, hands in his pockets. "Can we talk?"
I nodded to the planner — a quiet dismissal — and turned to face him. "You have five minutes."
"I know you hate me," he started. "And you should. I knew about Dominic and Vivienne for months. I should've told you."
"Yes," I agreed. "You should have."
He flinched. "I thought — I told myself it was none of my business. That Dominic would come to his senses. But when I saw those invitations go out..." He shook his head. "He's spiraling, Serena. Canceled the wedding venue twice. Vivienne's threatening to tell your father about the pregnancy, and Dominic's losing it."
I arranged a white gardenia in the sample bouquet, not looking up. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I think Vivienne is lying." Marcus lowered his voice. "About the pregnancy. About everything."
My hands stilled. "Go on."
"I did some digging. Vivienne visited three different clinics before she told Dominic she was pregnant. One of them was a fertility specialist — not OB-GYN. Why would a pregnant woman need a fertility clinic?"
The implications settled cold in my stomach.
"You think she faked it," I said.
"I think she manufactured a reason for Dominic to leave you," Marcus said carefully. "And when you didn't fight back — when you just... accepted the break — she pushed for the wedding immediately. Before anyone could ask questions."
I set the bouquet down. "And you're telling me this now because?"
"Because even if you hate Dominic, you deserve the truth." He paused. "And because Dante Valenti scares the hell out of me, and I don't want you walking into something dangerous just to get revenge."
I looked at Marcus then — really looked. He seemed genuine. Exhausted. Like carrying this secret had cost him something.
"Marcus," I said quietly. "I appreciate you coming to me. But this doesn't change anything."
"You're still marrying Valenti?"
"I am."
"Even knowing Dominic was manipulated?"
I smiled — small, tired. "Being manipulated doesn't excuse what he did. He chose to believe Vivienne over me. He chose to plan a wedding behind my back. He chose to lie."
Marcus nodded slowly. "Fair enough."
"But Marcus?" I added as he turned to leave. "The information about the clinics. Keep digging. If Vivienne faked a pregnancy to trap Dominic — that's not just deception. That's something else entirely."
He met my eyes. "You think she's dangerous?"
I thought about the way Vivienne smiled — that delicate, practiced curve. The way she always positioned herself as the victim. The way people fell over themselves to protect her.
"I think," I said carefully, "she's more dangerous than anyone gives her credit for."
...
That night, I told Dante everything Marcus had said.
We were in his study — him behind the desk, me in the leather chair across from him, legs curled beneath me. We'd fallen into this routine without meaning to: evening meetings where we discussed the wedding, the guest list, our families. Sometimes we talked until midnight.
"So the pregnancy may be fabricated," Dante said, leaning back.
"Possibly."
"Does that change anything for you?"
I considered the question. "No. But it makes me more certain about one thing."
"What's that?"
"Vivienne came into my life with an agenda. Everything — the fainting, the fragility, the loneliness — it was calculated. She targeted Dominic because he was mine."
Dante watched me for a long moment. Then: "You should know something."
I straightened.
"Three months ago," he said, "Vivienne reached out to my family. Tried to arrange a meeting with me."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"She presented herself as your father's stepdaughter. Implied she might be a better match for the Valenti alliance than you."
I stared at him. "She tried to take your arrangement too?"
"She tried," Dante confirmed. "My family dismissed her immediately. But I remembered her face." His jaw tightened. "So when you called and accepted my proposal — I already knew what was happening. I knew someone was trying to take everything from you."
The room felt very quiet.
"Is that why you agreed so quickly?" I asked.
He stood, moved around the desk, and crouched in front of my chair. This close, I could see the flecks of silver in his dark eyes.
"I agreed because I wanted you, Serena," he said simply. "The rest was just confirmation that I was right to wait."
My heart did something unfamiliar — something warm and terrifying.
"One week," he said softly. "Then you'll be mine. And no one — not your stepsister, not your ex — will ever make you feel disposable again."
I believed him.
God help me, I believed him.