Chapter 372 Two Months Later, Madeline's POV "Don't forget your dress fitting this afternoon," Dominic said, adjusting his tie as he got ready to leave. He ked my cheek-one of those automatic kisses couples give each other when they've been together too long. Vivian is going with you." My stomach twisted slightly at the sound of her name, but I kept the plastic smile on my face. "Of course," I replied, forcing a cheerful tone. "And don't be late this time, okay? You know how Vivian gets stressed." Oh yes. How could I ever forget how stressed Vivian would get?

"Don't worry," I said, smiling again as I opened the door for him. "Love you," he murmured distractedly. "Love you too," I lied automatically. I leaned my back against the closed door and let out a deep breath, feeling the tension I always carried when he was around finally start to ease. "I hate it when he spends the weekend here," Olivia commented from the living room, rolling her eyes without even looking up from her phone. "You hate it less than I do," I replied, dropping onto the couch beside her with a heavy sigh.

It had been exactly two months since I'd come back from the Maldives, and my life had turned into a carefully staged farce in which I was both the lead actress and the prisoner. When I returned, I discovered that the entire story of my canceled wedding had been completely rewritten. The bride who discovered a betrayal and ran off with a stranger to the Maldives? Of course not. That version would never be accepted by Belmonte's high society.

The official story was that I'd had a nervous breakdown caused by the stress of wedding preparations, spent a week hospitalized at a luxury psychiatric recovery clinic, and had now returned-healed and ready to marry again in three months. When I tried to talk to my mother about what had really happened that day, she looked at me as if I were having another episode. She pretended the betrayal scene had never happened, that I'd never caught Dominic and Vivian kissing, that I'd never overheard their sordid plans.

mentioned the truth. "Madeline, sweetheart," she said in that sugary voice that sent chills down my spine, "you need to focus on the future, not get stuck on those fantasies your mind created during the crisis." Fantasies... As if I'd made it all

at the "clinic." He talked about how hard it had been for him too, how worried he'd been, how grateful he was to God that I was better. 1/3 And Vivian... Vivian was the cherry on top. She showed up at my apartment on my second day back, eyes full of tears, holding a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for "not noticing the signs" of my burnout. She offered to personally

only person in the world who knew the full, ugly truth. I told her

to play along. Because I'd realized this was a much more dangerous game than I'd first imagined. It was no longer just about my father's health, which, by the way, had "miraculously" improved once I agreed to reschedule the wedding.

to live with the constant feeling of being observed. Every place I went, every person I spoke to, every move I made felt like it was being cataloged by someone. I'd developed the habit of

distracted, I caught myself remembering the way he laughed, or how his blue eyes lit up when he was planning some kind of trouble. But those memories were dangerous. They were a luxury I couldn't afford. Especially because if the photos had proven anything, it was that anyone who got close to me was in danger. Seconds after closing the door behind Dominic, that familiar, nauseating

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