Too Late—Now I’m Married to Your Enemy Chapter 03

Too Late—Now I’m Married to Your Enemy Chapter 03

He did not hesitate, stepping straight into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

His muffled response filtered through the door.

“Gina, I’m really tired. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. There are still a lot of family matters waiting for me to handle. Stop making a fuss, okay?”

Fearing he would not hear me clearly, I stepped closer to the bathroom door and raised my voice.

“Papa said he wants me to hold the wedding on the same day as my sister. We are twins, after all.”

The rush of running shower water tangled with his sharp scoff.

“Twins have to get married on the same day? Don Salvatore is really quite amusing.”

“I’m getting married at the end of this month.”

I rested my palm against the glass door, speaking both to the blurry silhouette behind it and to myself.

The bathroom door flew open without warning.

Luca stepped out, dripping wet from head to toe.

The gentle facade was gone, his perfunctory responses replaced by icy, cutting questions.

“Gina, can you be reasonable? Getting married at the end of the month is impossible. Don’t you know weddings need to be arranged months in advance?”

“I’ve always been reasonable. The wedding is already arranged. It’s at the same church where Sofia is getting married, and you know the exact time.”

Luca’s temper flared.

“I already cooperated with you perfectly at the family gathering tonight. When Sofia read out the message in the fortune cookie, did you think I didn’t know you two planned that on purpose?”

“I’ve been biting back my rage for you this entire time!”

“And what about you? Instead of being grateful, you went from dropping hints about marriage to forcing me into it outright! Gina, are you trying to challenge my authority?”

“Cooperated with me? Not throwing a fit in front of my family counts as cooperation? Luca, why don’t you stop for a second and think about how long I’ve put up with everything for you, and for Rosa?”

I stared at him furiously.

The second Rosa’s name left my lips, Luca’s tough demeanor crumbled.

He knew full well he had wronged me with his choices.

So his tone softened, trying to talk me down.

“Gina, I know you respect your father deeply, but you can’t follow his every order blindly, can you? Especially not something as life-altering as marriage. They said you should get married the same day as your sister, so you just agreed without pushing back? You should have your own say in this.”

“Luca,” I cut him off sharply, “the wedding invitations are almost printed.”

A long, heavy silence hung in the air.

He spoke coldly, “Fine, do whatever you want. I’m heading to the East Coast on business at the end of the month anyway. I’m telling you this in advance. When there’s no groom at the wedding, you and your family will be the ones humiliated. Don’t blame me for it later.”

That icy, unfeeling indifference used to be the one thing I dreaded most from him.

Right now, however, my heart was completely calm.

I always ranked dead last on his list of priorities.

His family business came first—endless meetings to attend, banquets to host, rivals to take down.

Every move of Rosa and her child mattered even more—late-night comfort when they were upset, round-the-clock care when they were sick, elaborate birthday surprises, even the little anniversaries that had always belonged to them.

The scraps of time he deigned to give me were predictably few and far between.

I lifted my chin stubbornly, answering slowly, word for word, “That won’t happen. I don’t blame you anymore.”

With that, I turned around to pack my luggage.

A fashion magazine sat prominently on the nightstand, filled entirely with high-end custom wedding dress designs.

I had picked it up half a year ago when I accompanied my sister to try on wedding dresses.

I flipped through it cover to cover every day, but could never settle on a single design no matter how many times I looked.

I often asked him which style suited me best, and he never bothered to answer.

Later, when he got annoyed by my constant questions, he randomly pointed at a page without even looking.

I never flipped through it again out of pettiness—but I secretly ordered that exact style anyway.

I looked around numbly, finally confirming there was nothing here worth taking with me.