He Gave My Ring to My Enemy,So I Took His Empire

After two years of exile in Palermo under Don Ferrante's protection, I cut my time short, eager to return to Clearmont Harbor, ready to be wed.

As I was preparing our future home in the compound, I discovered thousands of plane tickets carefully preserved by my blood-promised of ten years, Ansel Montecaro.

Every month, he had been traveling to Palermo at least once, and it wasn't to see me.

Even though I was only a hundred kilometers from wherever he landed.

I arrived early at the place where he had planned to offer me the blood-bound ring, only to see him on one knee, offering it to someone else.

"Elara Corsetti, will you marry me? As soon as you say yes, I'll switch brides immediately!"

His gaze was filled with anticipation and I couldn't take another step forward.

Since I was not the one he wanted to bind his bloodline to, I might as well let them have this union.

But after I ran away, he crossed oceans and territories, searching the world for me!

The site was decorated with roses, bathed in the warm glow of soft yellow lights. Romantic and intimate.

Ansel, kneeling on one knee, was the exact image of the proposal I had dreamed of countless times.

But the person standing in front of him wasn't me.

"Elara, will you marry me?"

Elara covered her mouth with one hand, trembling as she took the roses with the other.

A dazzling ring was slipped onto her finger. Not a Valente heirloom. Something new. Something bought with my father's treasury.

The two embraced tightly, kissing passionately. Their intimate whispers carried to my ears by the wind.

I found myself unconsciously rubbing the matching ring Ansel had sent me from across the sea.

I never told him the ring was too big.

To keep it from slipping off, I had wrapped half a loop of red thread around it to make it fit.

Perhaps after all this time, when I tugged at the thread, it came undone.

The ring, freed from the thread that once held it in place, slipped off my finger in an instant and rolled into a distant drain.

Just like Ansel, who, after two years abroad, was no longer tied down by me.

An ill-fitting ring doesn't need to be retrieved, just as a man who didn't love me didn't need to be held onto.

"Ansel, I hope your union goes as planned."

"Why? The only one I want to marry is you!"

"Because... I plan to crash your wedding! That way, it will prove you're truly in love with me!"

My steps faltered.

Because I was curious just how far Ansel would go to hurt me for Elara's sake.

"You little rascal, only you could come up with such a crazy idea!"

"Then I better prepare an extra pair of running shoes, so I can run faster when we elope!"

"Are you really willing to do this to Serafina?"

"Marrying her to keep my promise is already the most I can do. If she can't keep her husband from being whisked away at the altar, she can't blame me, can she?"

Their joyful laughter pierced my heart like a dagger.

I turned around, leaning against a tree, my legs so weak I couldn't move an inch. Somewhere behind me, a car door opened and closed. One of Ansel's soldiers, probably. Standing watch over a moment that was never meant for my eyes.

Fearing that my sobs might alert them, I covered my mouth tightly and walked away.

But halfway home, my legs gave out and I fell hard onto the ground.

I returned home, battered and broken, and dialed Don Ferrante's number on the clean line.

"Don Ferrante, I've decided to join that operation you mentioned."

The old Don was pleased, but also puzzled.

"Didn't you say you were planning to settle down in Clearmont Harbor after the union? Did your husband agree to a long-distance arrangement? Being apart after a blood-bound union can be really challenging. Are you sure you don't want to rethink this decision?"

I was wiping the scrapes on my bruised knees, each touch sending a sharp pang through me.

"The union is off. From now on, I'll be your right hand, fully devoted to the work."

Don Ferrante, who treats me like his own daughter, immediately sensed something was wrong. I could hear the faint sound of him removing his reading glasses, the soft drag of cloth against a lens.

"Today's the deadline. I'll put your name on the list. Come back to Palermo soon so we can get started. Keeping busy will help take your mind off things."

"Don't think I'm meddling, but over the past two years, it's always been you looking after Clearmont Harbor, while he's never bothered to come to Palermo. That's a clear sign he doesn't love you as much as you believed."

"Once you've made up your mind to move on, don't linger in the past."

If it weren't for that thick stack of flight tickets, I could have confidently dismissed Don Ferrante's warning that "he doesn't love you as much."

No wonder he was always out of touch at the end of each month.

Turns out, he was busy traveling thousands of miles to be with Elara.

For two whole years, I felt like a fool, desperately racing to master the cipher work and prove my value to the Ferrante operation, just to carve out time to fly back and see him.

Those brief meetings after long flights were once the happiest moments of my life.

Yet, my cross-ocean love, in the face of that stack of tickets Ansel cherished, had become a joke.

As I made my way to the proposal site, I tried to convince myself that maybe he had traveled to Palermo for business. A sit-down with an allied family. A supply-chain problem. Anything.

When I saw him offering the blood-bound ring to Elara, the very woman who had once tormented me, it became clear why he hadn't visited me despite the mere hundred kilometers between us.

Elara had barred him from seeing me, leaving him to send word through intermediaries, stories of longing and sorrow to explain his absence.

He knew exactly how much Elara and I were sworn enemies.

After my father remarried, Vittoria Corsetti and her daughter became the most persistent shadows of my childhood. The beatings behind closed doors. The isolation. The burning of my mother's letters. All of it hidden behind the Valente name while the name still meant something.

I had imagined countless scenarios over the past two years of our separation.

Ansel might fall for someone else, I thought, but I never expected him to fall for Elara. I never anticipated that he would go so far as to agree to let me be humiliated at the union ceremony just to please her.

I submerged myself in a warm bath, the heat gradually stopping my trembling. The water stilled around me. My breathing slowed until it was almost nothing, a long, measured silence, the kind that comes when a decision has already been made and the body is simply catching up.

Then, Ansel's call came in.

"Serafina, where are you? I'm already at the seaside park!"

I stayed silent.

Ansel grew anxious.

"Serafina, what's wrong? Are you upset?"

"Where are you? I'll come get you right now."

He remained as attentive and careful as ever, able to pick up on my emotions and offer comfort.

"I'm at the estate. I don't want to go to the park today."

There was a brief pause before Ansel spoke again, still trying to reassure me.

"Alright, I'll come home right away to be with you."

He didn't question why I had canceled.

It wasn't that his love for me was so deep that he could overlook my whims. It was simply that he had successfully offered the blood-bound ring to Elara in that carefully orchestrated setting. I was merely his backup plan for when the proposal didn't go as expected.

As Ansel walked in, I was just coming out of the bathroom. Seeing Elara behind him, I couldn't help but frown.

"Why did you bring her here?" I asked warningly.

Was he really so eager to rub my face in it?

Ansel, looking a bit guilty, rubbed his nose. "Serafina, I ran into Elara downstairs and found out she lives on the next block over. She heard you were back in Clearmont Harbor and insisted on coming up to apologize"

I watched him coldly, unimpressed by his performance. The compound was quiet around us, the kind of silence that settles in a house where the wrong word can change everything. One of Ansel's men stood just outside the door, close enough to hear, pretending not to.

"Serafina, my mother and I were in the wrong back then. I'm apologizing on her behalf. Can you find it in yourself to forgive us?"

Elara's head tilted slightly to the right, her smile softening into something that looked, to anyone who didn't know better, like genuine remorse.

I turned to Ansel, my voice shaking.

"So, you think I should forgive them, both mother and daughter?"

The pain of a ruptured eardrum. The numbness from bamboo whips. The torment of seeing my mother's belongings reduced to ashes, her correspondence burned, the backup cipher keys and personal letters gone forever because Vittoria Corsetti decided the first wife's memory had no place in her house.

I didn't ask why he fell for Elara. It would have made me seem too weak.

As I stubbornly waited for his response, Ansel's guilt seemed to dissolve into the air. His fingers drifted to the base of his left ring finger, brushing the bare skin there, and then he spoke.

"Serafina, Elara was just a kid back then. She didn't understand right from wrong. She's been remorseful for years and has already apologized to you. Why hold onto the past so tightly?"

The physical and emotional abuse that threw me into an endless abyss. That's what he called the past.

Refusing to forgive Elara wasn't about being petty. He was the one who took me to the hospital back then. He knows better than anyone how deeply I loathe my stepmother and her daughter, what Vittoria and Elara did to me in the years behind my father's back. Yet he chose to fall in love with Elara and align himself against me.

When Ansel reached out to take my hand, trying to broker peace with Elara, I slapped his hand away.

"Ansel, what gives you the right to ask me to forgive them?" I asked sharply.

Behind my father's back, they abused me, tricked him into despising me. And after Don Valente's passing, they didn't even bother with the funeral rites. In this world, that alone was an act of dishonor that should have severed every tie between our families permanently.

Ansel looked at the back of his hand, now red from where I had slapped him, and frowned in confusion and discontent.

"Serafina, I'm trying to help you. You're without parents now, and Vittoria and Elara are the only family you have left. Why hold on to the past and continue to suffer?"

"You need to move forward, don't you?"

Ansel's words were meant to be comforting, but the impatience I knew so well was already showing through his otherwise calm and composed face. But there was no longer the familiar tenderness and care in his voice. He spoke the way he spoke to soldiers who had disappointed him. Measured. Already finished with the conversation before it ended.

I could feel my heart, already battered and broken, shatter into dust. The pain was so intense it left me almost speechless.

Elara's eyes, brimming with feigned sorrow, held a glint of the same smugness and provocation as before. She stood in my doorway like she belonged there, in the compound that had been built on my father's treasury, wearing a ring from the man who had been promised to me.

"Serafina, it's alright if you can't forgive me. I'll keep repenting and feeling guilty until you accept me as your family."

"Get out."

I gripped the hallway wall to keep myself from shaking too violently.

Ansel's impatience was unmistakable.

"Serafina, why are you being so unreasonable? Nobody is perfect. Where has your tolerance gone?" He raised his tone, the way a man accustomed to obedience raises it when he doesn't receive any.

He had witnessed me being driven to the brink of suicide by Elara and her mother.

Once, he had been willing to argue with them on my behalf, even to the point of furious outbursts. He had stood in front of me like a wall between me and them, his voice shaking the windows of the Corsetti parlor.

What on earth had driven him to oppose me and start defending Elara?

I let the pain overwhelm me and told Ansel, word by word.

"Unless she dies before my eyes, I will never forgive her!"

Ansel's forehead was throbbing and he was visibly about to lose his temper. The muscle in his jaw flexed. His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling once, twice. The hallway seemed to narrow around us.

This was the same look he had when he used to rage at Elara and her mother on my behalf.

"Serafina! How did you become so bitter after just two years in Palermo? If you can't find it in yourself to forgive her, then at least apologize to Elara! I can't stand the thought of people in every family from here to the old country mocking my blood-promised as a spiteful, resentful woman!"

"Your mother's decision to end her life was her own weakness. If she had considered your youth, your father wouldn't have had to remarry! Don't blame all your misfortune on Elara and her mother. Vittoria made mistakes, but she didn't deserve to die! If you, like your mother, are going to stubbornly wallow in your misery, then it's no wonder you're plagued by nightmares!"

He practically spat out the word nightmares through gritted teeth.

The revulsion that flashed across his face was clear to me.

So, the person who swore to protect me for life was now clearly fed up with being haunted by my nightmares. The man who controlled half the waterfront, who had soldiers kiss his ring and call him Boss, could not stomach the sound of me screaming in my sleep.

In the end, all my misfortune and pain had become the sword he used to wound me, leaving me scarred and broken once more.

Once, the man who would feel heartache and tear up at the mention of my nightmares no longer held me close and promised.

"Serafina, as long as I'm here, no nightmare or monster can hurt you!"

He had once used his love and care to pull me out of the abyss, but now he was the one who had shoved me back in.

For Elara's sake, he said I deserved it!

Trembling uncontrollably, I could no longer cling to the hallway wall and staggered backward. Somewhere deeper in the compound, a door closed. The silence that followed was the kind that fills a room after a gunshot.

Ansel quickly steadied me, only to see that my knee was swollen and bruised.

He immediately crouched down to inspect the injury.

"How did you hurt your knee so badly?"

"Forget it. If you won't apologize, I'll do it for you, but you mustn't be so disrespectful in the future."

I wrenched my hand away with all my strength, my face ashen as I pointed toward the door.

"Get out! All of you, get out!"

Ansel, recognizing my vulnerability, tried to soothe me with a comforting embrace.

But Elara, tears streaming down her face, bowed deeply.

"Serafina, I'm leaving now. Please, don't torment yourself over this."

Her head tilted slightly to the right, her expression softening into something that looked almost like compassion. Then she turned to leave, spinning too quickly, crashing into the doorframe and falling sideways.

Ansel instantly released me and rushed to catch her. They both tumbled out into the hallway together.

Despite everything, Elara's head still struck the doorframe, instantly turning red with a hint of blood seeping out.

Ansel scrambled to his feet, cradling her as he rushed towards the elevator.

"Elara, does it hurt? I'm taking you to see a doctor right now!"

The doorway finally fell silent.

My heart sank to the depths.

After ten years of knowing each other and ten years of love, a decade of blood promise, we had reached this point of estrangement. The compound settled around me, indifferent. The hallway light hummed. I stood alone in the doorway of a home built with my father's treasury, wearing the silence like a shroud.

I took out my phone and booked a flight for the day of the Blood-Bound Union.

With seven days left, it was just enough time to clear away everything from the past.

Ansel was right; one must look forward.

From now on, I would sever all ties with the joys and sorrows of the past.

My breathing slowed. It became almost imperceptible, the way it always did when the decision was final. There would be no reversing this.

I threw away all the wedding supplies I had meticulously prepared.

This house, which was never truly mine, was now devoid of any trace of me. The compound sat quiet in the early hours, its marble floors and heavy curtains holding nothing of mine between them.

In the end, only the tickets I had carefully kept as a diary of love remained. Concert stubs. Ferry passes. A crumpled boarding pass from the night he met me at the Palermo airport and carried my bag without being asked.

With a moment's hesitation, I threw each one into the fire.

Each ticket consumed by the flames represented a part of me that loved Ansel. The paper curled and blackened in the study's fireplace, the only warmth that room had offered me in years.

When the burning finally ceased, only a pile of ashes and acrid smoke remained.

It was just like the love I had given over these ten years.

The next morning, the aroma of breakfast woke me up.

"Serafina, hurry up and get ready. I've already made breakfast."

"You go ahead and eat. I'll take breakfast to Elara so you don't have to."

"Okay."

Ansel paused, his hand holding the thermal container. "Don't feel guilty. Elara doesn't blame you."

"After breakfast, let's pick out a new blood-bound ring for the ceremony. The custom one had some issues and won't arrive in time for the Union."

"Okay."

He enjoyed playing the role, so I would just go along with it.

Perhaps sensing my lack of enthusiasm, Ansel hesitantly brought out the first aid kit and applied medication to my knee. "Serafina, we've been promised to each other for years. Everything I've done is for your good. I don't want us to have a Union where you have no family present."

"You mentioned not finding an attendant? I've taken the liberty of asking Elara to stand as your attendant."

"Okay."

Ansel spoke cautiously, but when he saw my quick agreement, disbelief filled his eyes. He then took my hand and pressed a warm, lingering kiss on it.

After delivering breakfast to Elara, he didn't come back.

As I scrubbed my palms with fervor, his call came in on the clean line.

"Serafina, finish eating and come down to the garage. I'll be waiting in the car."

When I reached the garage, I instinctively opened the front passenger door, only to find Elara already sitting there.

Without a word, I took a seat in the back.

Ansel glanced at me a few times in the rearview mirror and seemed quite pleased with my understanding.

"Serafina, Elara designs pieces at the atelier. With her here, she'll definitely help you pick out a ring you'll love."

I nodded and closed my eyes, pretending to rest.

When I unconsciously opened my eyes, I saw Ansel gently pinching Elara's cheek.

In the rearview mirror, our eyes met and he quickly started to explain.

"Elara had something on her face, so I was just helping her wipe it off."

I closed my eyes again and kept them shut until we arrived.

As the three of us entered the jewelry store, the sales associate greeted Elara, who was standing close to Ansel, with great enthusiasm.

"What can I help you with today, sir? Are you looking for something special for your loved one?"

Elara and Ansel both blushed.

Ansel swiftly pulled me closer. "Why are you standing so far away? Come over and pick out a ring!"

The sales associate blushed deeply and quickly brought out the rings for me to choose from. But Elara took the lead, inspecting each one with a critical eye.

"This one's not big enough."

"This one's color isn't right."

None of the other rings measured up when compared to the one Elara was holding.

The sales associate glanced at me, visibly uncertain of how to proceed. Elara, however, acted as if she hadn't noticed and ultimately chose a rather plain ring.

"Serafina, let's settle for this one for now. It'll work for the ceremony. I'll design a better one for you later," she said.

The sales associate, clearly uncomfortable, awkwardly praised Elara for her "exceptional" taste.

Elara, with a hint of pride, thrust her hand in front of me. "It has to be beautiful. It's custom-designed by my blood-promised."

Ansel stood quietly beside her, watching her flaunt the ring without stopping her or showing any sign of discomfort. His smile, however, seemed to bloom with the spring breeze.

"Then we'll go with the one Elara picked!" he said.

Skipping even the try-on process, Ansel paid for the ring immediately. He took out the ring and, with a blank expression, slid it onto my finger.

There was no kneeling, no roses, no declaration.

This time, the ring was small, barely fitting.

I knew, without a doubt, that Elara had done this on purpose. As the artisan of the atelier, Elara could accurately gauge ring size at a glance. Such a significant mistake was impossible. In this world, a ring that doesn't fit is an omen everyone reads. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I didn't bother pointing it out and simply removed the ring.

The sales associate kindly suggested that I choose a different style, but I declined.

"Let's just buy this one and get it over with. No need to make it more complicated."

Ansel, hearing this, was clearly displeased with my tone.

"If you're not happy with it, we don't have to buy it. Elara can help you get a custom one later," he offered.

I shook my head and refused. "No, this one is fine."

Elara, however, looked deeply remorseful, her eyes brimming with tears once again. She tilted her head slightly to the right, her smile softening into something that looked like compassion.

"Serafina, I'm going straight to the studio to work on the design. I'll make sure you have a perfect Union!"

With that, she quickly left. No matter how much Ansel called after her, she didn't stop.

"Serafina, what's the matter with you? It's just a ring. Why are you making such a fuss?"

I was taken aback. "What am I making a fuss about?"

He pressed his lips tightly together and pulled me out of the store.

"I have business to attend to. We can take the Union portraits later."

"Or, you could take your solo photos first and I'll have the designers put my image alongside yours for the ceremony."

"Okay."

Ansel's explanations got caught in his throat. He looked at me for a long moment before gently embracing me.

"Serafina, once I'm done with business, I'll take you on a trip and we can do the portraits properly."

To me, his dismissive promise felt like an insult. He had no time to visit me in Palermo, but he had plenty of time to accompany Elara to the coast to watch the sunset and to the northern territories to see the lights.

Seeing his location and profile picture hurrying towards Elara's studio, I went back into the store and returned the ring to the sales associate.

As I expected, Ansel didn't come home for two days. He was accompanying Elara to the seaside for their Union portraits. And indeed, he had someone put our faces onto their pictures.

Determined to avoid the ceremony, he'd probably only come back for my parents' memorial.

I went to the cemetery with two bouquets to visit them. I also gave my contact information to the caretaker so he could reach me directly from now on.

"I'll cover the upkeep for my parents from now on. Just refuse any payments from Mr. Montecaro."

The caretaker was taken aback after checking his records. "Miss, the fees for your parents' plots have been overdue for six months. We've tried contacting the family, but the number on file has been unreachable."

Realizing that I had changed my number after leaving for Palermo, I couldn't help but feel frustrated with myself. Ansel no longer cared about me. How could he remember my deceased parents?

I paid the outstanding fees and also prepaid for ten years, then left feeling dejected.

But just as I was walking out of the cemetery, I heard a voice I'd never forget in this lifetime.

"Ansel, it's impressive that you remember today is Elara's real dad's memorial day! If the old man knew you came to keep him company for a drink, he'd probably be floating up from the grave."

I turned around stiffly and saw Ansel, flanked by Elara and Vittoria, climbing the stone steps.

"Vittoria, this is what I should be doing."

"Don't be silly, call me 'Mom' in a few days!"

Ansel chuckled heartily and, without hesitation, called her "Mom."

With tears in my eyes, I quietly went to meet my friends.

I got straight to the point and told them that the Union was canceled.

They exchanged glances and then cautiously asked me, "Serafina, you already know?"

I was puzzled why they also knew.

In a fit of indignation, they pulled out photos of Ansel and Elara together at the hospital for their pre-ceremony medical clearance.

"Serafina, we support your decision to walk out. I'd love to see what a Blood-Bound Union without a bride looks like. Elara showing up to steal the ceremony will be a joke that follows them through every family in Clearmont Harbor!"

Their words made me somewhat look forward to it.

The day before the Union, Ansel came home with a brand-new pair of running shoes. I asked him calmly, "Aren't you the one who hates running shoes?"

He paused for a moment, then patted my head. "Tomorrow, I'll need to run fast with the bride on my back!"

The bride he mentioned isn't me.

The smile that suddenly appeared on his face wasn't because of me either.

It seems that making me the center of a public Union theft to prove his love for Elara made him quite happy.

The next day, I had walked around the ceremony venue. Gigantic posters had magnified every trace of photo-editing on the Union portraits.

I had pulled out a pair of scissors, cut out my youthful, radiant face and then took a cab to the airport.

My breathing slowed until it was almost imperceptible. The decision was made. There was nothing left to argue with.

When the flight attendant reminded me to turn off my phone, Ansel's calls had started flooding in.