Chapter 3 Chapter 3
Lily
The classroom empties quickly after Sebastian’s speech. Chairs scrape, students chatter, the energy disperses like fog in sunlight.
I grab my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and stand up. I want to bolt.
But of course, Bella is still fiddling with her notebook and sipping what’s left of her coffee like we’ve got all the time in the world.
I can feel it, his gaze on me.
Sebastian is still at the front of the room, speaking to a professor or maybe just standing there like a statue. But he’s watching me.
Every nerve in my body tightens.
Bella finally stands and waits until the last few students leave. Then, to my horror, she waves at him.
“Hi, Sebastian,” she calls sweetly, already strutting toward him like they’re old friends. Because they are. But was it necessary to meet him right now?
She leans in and kisses him on the cheek, friendly and confident.
I stay frozen where I am, fuming with rage.
“Hi, Belladonna.” His voice is smooth and polite which is rare. “You good?” he asks, but his eyes are on me.
“Yeah,” Bella replies casually, then gestures toward me. “Meet my best friend, Lily.”
I clutch my bag tighter. He approaches slowly and extends a hand for me to shake.
“I’m deeply sorry,” he says, his tone even but sincere. “It was a mistake. I misjudged you.”
I stare at his hand, then his face. I don’t touch him.
“You should come collect your salary for that day,” he adds.
“I don’t need it,” I say cold as steel.
His lips twitch like he’s amused. “Then come back to work again.”
“I’ll never step foot in your office again.” I say through gritted teeth.
There’s silence. His jaw clenches for a split second, and then he nods.
“See you around then,” he says, stepping back.
Bella gives him a playful smile. “Later, Sebastian.”
As we walk away, I hiss under my breath. “Was it really necessary to talk to him?”
“Oh, come on, Lily. He’s practically family to me,” she teases with a wink, entirely unbothered. Then her brows lift, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Wait, did I hear that right? Sebastian Manchini actually apologized to you?” Her jaw drops.
Her surprise is genuine and almost disbelieving. “Sebastian doesn’t apologize to anyone, Lily. Ever.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head, brushing it off. “Whatever.”
As we head across the quad, I catch sight of him on the opposite path, walking with his usual power and grace. He doesn’t look at me, but God, even from this angle, he looks like a carved Greek god, all sharp edges and confidence.
After our last class, I drive Bella home. Then I head back to my place.
When I pull into the driveway, I see Zane sitting on the terrace, sunglasses on, sipping soda like he hasn’t just ruined my day.
“Hey, sister,” he greets with a lazy grin.
“I’m not your sister,” I snap as I walk past him.
“Okay,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow.
“You have to attend a party with me tonight,” he says.
“No.” I don’t even hesitate.
My stepmother appears in the hallway behind him. “Actually, Lily,” she says softly, “this party is extremely important for both Zane and your father. If possible, can you please accompany him?”
I exhale sharply. “Fine. But I’m not staying late.”
“That’s totally fine,” she nods, relieved. “Just go with him. Please.”
I glance at Zane. “What kind of party is it?”
He shrugs, but he’s got that look. The one that says he’s not telling me everything.
“It’s a lavish type. All rich people. I left a dress in your bedroom already.”
“Okay…” I narrow my eyes but head upstairs anyway.
The dress is laid out on my bed like some strange offering. It’s white with tiny shiny diamonds like stones on it. Floor-length. Almost bridal in its elegance, lace-trimmed, cinched waist, soft shimmer under the light. Dramatic. Over-the-top.
These rich people parties can be theatrical, sure. They are just extra. But this feels… off.
I take a long bath, then do my makeup in warm nudes, soft blushes. My hair falls in waves down my back. I slip into the dress, pair it with matching white heels, and step in front of the mirror.
My breath catches. “God. I look like I’m getting married.”
I brush the thought away. Just rich people being extra. That’s all.
We drive in silence. Zane’s car glides through the city streets like a shadow. He is dressed in a grey tuxedo. We barely speak. That’s always been our way, always an awkward distance.
After about twenty-five minutes, we pull up to the venue.
A mansion.
Enormous. Stone pillars. Arched doors. Marble lions at the gate. It gives serious Roman empire vibes. Timeless and cold.
The parking lot is full of luxury cars.
We step inside and…
All heads turn to look at me. People are whispering to each other while gazing at me. I feel like I am a victim or something…
Eyes follow me with quiet intensity. Whispers rise as we walk forward.
My heels click on marble. The chandeliers sparkle like stars. It takes me one second too long to understand what this is.
This isn’t just a lavish party.
This is a wedding.
I stop breathing.
Zane looks at me with guilt all over his face. “I’m sorry, step-sis. I owe the Cosa Nostra a huge sum of money. And I’m giving you in return for my debt.”
The world tilts.
I don’t cry.
I don’t scream.
I just freeze.
He takes my hand, and before I know it, we’re walking down an aisle.
A long velvet carpet stretches beneath my feet.
Candlelight flickers.
Eyes burn into me.
All the powerful men in this room.
At the end of the aisle, the man waiting at the altar is no stranger. My heart drops even more.
Sebastian Manchini.
I want to crumble.
My heart drops so hard I feel sick. I want to scream. I want to run. I want to vomit.
“They’ll kill me if you don’t marry him,” Zane whispers. “They’ll kill your father.”
I keep walking. My legs don’t feel like mine.
I reach the altar.
Sebastian takes my hand. His grip is steady. Warm.
The priest begins the ceremony, and everything becomes a blur.
I don’t even look at him.
I barely hear the words.
He says his vows, his voice rich and steady, like this is all normal for him. Like he has done thousands of weddings.
When it’s my turn, I’m numb.
“I do,” I whisper.
And then…
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Sebastian steps closer.
His hand gently cups my cheek.
His lips brush mine, slow and deliberate.
The crowd erupts into applause and cheers.
And me?
I die inside.
Because I’ve just been sold and married to the devil himself at the same time.