The White Dress Rule Chapter 02

The White Dress Rule Chapter 02

Lily knew the security code. Old Carlo, the butler, looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Miss White, please. This isn’t a good time. Donna is here…”

“So what?” Her voice was light, sweet, and utterly confident. “Michael said I could come anytime. Anyway, he’s tired of her. What’s she going to do? Scream?”

She found me by the pool, where I was sipping an espresso.

“You must be Angelica.” She sat down in the chair across from me without waiting for an invitation.

She leaned forward, pulled down her collar, and showed me a dark bruise on her neck. A hickey. Fresh.

“See this? He loves me. He whispers it when we’re together. He likes this dress.”

She ran her hand over the white fabric.

“He likes the way I look in it. He’s had me in every room of this house. Even,” she smiled, tilting her head toward the old wooden swing hanging from a large oak tree by the pool, “on that. We had a lot of… fun.”

She leaned back. “And you? I heard you’re not even allowed to wear white. How pathetic is that?”

I looked at her.

“That’s a beautiful dress,” I said softly.

She blinked, caught off guard.

I raised one hand. Vincent and another guard stepped out of the house’s shadow. “Strip her. Then throw her in the deep end.”

Lily’s smile vanished. “What? You can’t! Michael will—”

A large hand clamped over her mouth. My men moved quickly. The delicate white fabric tore. She struggled, fear flooding her eyes. They dragged her, half naked and thrashing, toward the pool.

“Angelica! Stop!”

Michael’s roar echoed across the terrace. He stood in the doorway, fury burning on his face. “Let her go.”

I spun my wedding ring around my finger. “I’m helping you, Michael. You hate white dresses, remember? I’m just teaching her the same lesson you taught me.”

His hands curled into fists. “Don’t do this. If you’re angry, be angry at me.”

Lily whimpered.

I picked up my cold espresso cup and threw it hard. The coffee hit him square in the forehead. Brown liquid and ceramic shards scattered across the floor.

He didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, blood trickling down his temple.

“Remember this?” I said, my voice colder than I knew I was capable of. “You made me kneel. You threw me in the lake. You said it was necessary. To teach me a lesson.”

He stepped forward. “Angel… that was different. I was a mess back then. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry didn’t bring back the baby I lost after you threw me in that lake, Michael.”

His face went pale.

“Now,” I said to the guards. “Finish it.”

“Michael! Please!” Lily screamed.

He looked at her terrified face, then at mine. And then he made his choice.

“Stop!” he shouted, but it was too late. The guards shoved her. Lily screamed as she hit the water. The splash turned into gurgling.

And Michael, my clean freak, Armani-suited mafia husband, ran without hesitation and dove into the deep end after her.

I watched him swim to her. Watched him pull her gasping body into his arms. Watched him brush the wet hair from her face with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years.

He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

The last piece of my love turned to ash.

“Take down the swing,” I said to Carlo, straightening my back as I walked back inside.

“But, Donna… the Don built that for you when you were first married…”

“It’s dirty now,” I said without looking back. “Burn it.”