Two Years of Marriage, I Never Got My Wedding Ring Chapter 01

Two Years of Marriage, I Never Got My Wedding Ring Chapter 01

That day, at the Ricci family estate, they asked me to leave my wedding ring behind.

Alessio Ricci sat at the head of the long table, his face a cold mask.

“She doesn’t deserve to wear a Ricci ring.”

I looked down at my bare ring finger, waited a beat, then raised my hand.

“What if…”

I looked at each of them around the table.

“I never wore the ring at all?”

Every face in the room changed at once.

His mother, Isabella, was the first to speak, her brow furrowed.

“What are you talking about? Alessio put it on your finger himself at the wedding.”

I looked at Alessio.

He was already looking at me.

That usually unreadable face of his finally began to tighten.

He’d been drunk on our wedding day.

Later, the ring surfaced on Sofia’s Instagram.

The ring I’d worn for two years? A $29.99 silver band I picked up off a street cart.

…….

The conference room fell silent. An unnerving quiet.

This was the table where Ricci family matters were settled.

The tabletop was polished to a mirror shine.

On it sat coffee, fruit, a stack of documents, and a black velvet ring box.

Isabella had just pushed that box in front of me.

She’d said, “Verona, let’s handle this cleanly. Leave the ring. It belongs to the Ricci family.”

I had thought she’d called me here today to discuss the guest list for the anniversary gala.

Only when I walked in did I realize Sofia was here, too.

She sat beside Isabella in a pale beige dress, her hair loosely pinned, the gala invitations stacked neatly beside her.

She hadn’t spoken a word. She just lowered her eyes when I glanced her way.

I had seen that look too many times.

At our wedding two years ago, she’d done the same, standing beside a drunken Alessio to straighten his cuffs.

Someone had laughed. “Sofia looks more like the bride than the bride does.”

The whole room had joined in.

I stood nearby, clutching my bouquet, as Alessio’s assistant murmured to me.

“Mrs. Ricci, Mr. Ricci has had too much to drink. We should probably expedite the ring exchange.”

The rest of the ceremony was a blur.

When I woke the next morning, my hand was bare.

The only thing left in the room was a bouquet of roses, already starting to wilt.

I asked the household staff where the ring was.

They said, “Mr. Ricci probably put it away. You should ask him.”

I didn’t ask.

I was new to the Ricci family then. Alessio was cold, and his family offered me a veneer of courtesy, nothing more.

Asking would have been an admission that I cared too much about my position.

So I went to a street market and bought a simple silver band.

$29.99.

The vendor saw me hesitating and threw in a small velvet pouch for free.

She smiled. “Long as it makes you happy to wear it, that’s what matters. It’s a bright, pretty thing.”

I wore it for two years.

Everyone in the Ricci family assumed it was the wedding ring Alessio had given me.

Until today. They asked me to take it off, only to find my hand already bare.

Alessio stared at my hand, his gaze instantly darkening.

Isabella’s expression soured.

“Verona, stop playing games. We had a room full of guests. Of course Alessio put the ring on you.”

“I’d like to know that, too.”

I placed my hand back on the table, my fingertip brushing the empty box.

“So, Mrs. Ricci, since you brought out this box today, what exactly are you asking me to return?”

Isabella’s hand froze.

Marta, seated beside her, gave a short, sharp laugh.

“If you two are having a lover’s quarrel, take it upstairs.”

“Verona, if you have something to say, say it. Don’t make a scene in front of your elders.”

“I’m not making a scene.” I opened my bag and took out the thin silver band I’d taken off earlier.

The silver was faded, the edges worn smooth.

I placed it on the table.

“This is the ring I’ve been wearing for the past two years.”