Gone Before He Loved Me Chapter 07

Gone Before He Loved Me Chapter 07

Matteo and Aurora. Getting married in a week.

Comments all said how wonderful it was—Matteo had finally moved past his grief over his crazy ex-wife.

People praised him for being such a good man, taking care of her even though she was insane.

Others were touched he’d marry a scarred woman.

A few knew about Aurora. Started to say something. Never finished.

The praise drowned them out.

Their wedding photos were out. Strange, because it was sweltering summer, but Aurora wore something fully covered.

In the photos, Matteo stood far from her. I saw no love in his eyes. Only coldness.

In interviews, Aurora teared up, showing off her ring.

“After all these years, I finally get to marry Matteo. Honestly? I’m so happy I can’t even put it into words.”

Matteo gave a faint smile. No real joy.

Something felt off.

Just as I was processing it all, my phone rang. Enzo.

His voice was barely containing excitement.

“Lucia, I got it all. Proof that Aurora and your stepmother were paying off the hospital staff. And a prescription your stepmother ordered through some middleman—you wanna know what that stuff does? It basically guarantees a stroke. Puts your odds through the roof.”

Enzo kept talking, but the words faded.

My grip on the phone tightened.

Finally I said, “Enzo. I’ll be back in three days. It’s time for revenge. Dad can finally rest.”

…

Three days later, I landed in New York.

Wedding day. Enzo picked me up. Handed me a file with copies and transaction records.

“At the ceremony, I’ll distract security. Use the back entrance. I’ve got someone on the inside paid off—just plug this drive in and the screen’ll do the rest.”

I took the drive and nodded.

Aurora wore a long-sleeved, high-neck gown. Covered her neck and arms. Her scars hidden under heavy makeup. From a distance, she looked fine.

Matteo stood beside her. Black suit. More handsome than before.

But his face was stone. No joy. Just cold.

The church was packed—everyone who was anyone in New York society.

Vivian sat in the front row, in a dark red gown, smiling with practiced grace.

Aurora walked down the aisle on Matteo’s arm. Tears glittering in her eyes.

I stood in the shadows of the second-floor balcony. Watching them exchange rings.

The officiant asked, “Matteo Ferraro, do you take Aurora Santoro to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Silence.

Everyone waited.

Matteo paused. Seconds stretched. Guests started shifting in their seats. Aurora’s smile faltered.

He inhaled.

“I do.”

But I saw something flash across his eyes. Hatred.

I bent down, plugged the USB into the control panel.

The big screen behind them flared to life.

Video footage—Aurora and Vivian in the study at the Santoro estate. Their voices clear.

“Mom, a few more doses of that stuff and she’ll never have kids.”

Vivian sipped her tea, calm. “Slowly. Once she’s completely broken, everything Santoro belongs to us.”

Gasps erupted across the church.

Aurora whipped around, face bone-white.

Vivian shot up from her seat, panicked.