After the Mafia Godfather Postpones Our Wedding, I Call It Off

I went out of my way to make a cake for Louis Carter's birthday, hoping to surprise him. When I passed the study, I accidentally overheard the conversation between Louis and his advisor. The advisor spoke cautiously, "Landon Scott's only last wish was that his daughter could marry you as she wished. The shot he took seven years ago was to trade for you marrying his daughter. When do you plan to marry Sofia?" I froze mid-step and heard Louis say, "A mistress's daughter should always be a mistress. She is not worthy to be my wife. Once I go through with the alliance marriage, I can keep her in the suburbs." I staggered back in disbelief and accidentally knocked into the floor lamp. Afraid of being discovered by Louis, I bit back the sharp pain and fled. Louis heard the noise outside, but when he came out, he saw nothing. The advisor followed behind him, looked at Louis's furrowed brows, and said, "You came out as soon as you heard the sound. I suppose you care about Ms. Scott very much." I was already back in my room by then. Clutching my bright red arm, I couldn't hold back my tears as they streamed down my face. For as long as I could remember, my father had risked his life working for Louis. Seven years ago, when Louis was trading arms at the docks, rival groups opened heavy fire and trapped him. It was my father who took the fatal bullet for him. I was eighteen that year, and I fell for Louis. My father saw what was on my mind at a glance. He didn't go with Louis for that deal, but when he learned there was an undercover agent, he ignored the danger for my sake, charged through the gunfire, and told Louis to retreat. But he never came back after leaving. He didn't even leave a body behind. He died in the enemy's artillery fire while trying to save Louis. These past seven years, I'd had constant nightmares and gone nights without sleeping a wink. If I hadn't fallen for Louis, my father would never have died. I blamed myself over and over again and went to church countless times, begging to take my father's place in death. But there was nothing I could do to change anything. I had no choice but to become Louis's fiancée. That was the one thing my father traded his life to get for me. For seven years, I hadn't gotten a single shred of love from Louis; even a single bit of gratitude from him was too much to hope for. It didn't matter if he looked down on me, but he couldn't slander my mother as a mistress like everyone else, let alone belittle my father, who raised me and gave his life to save him. My father died for nothing, and it made me sick. I threw the cake I'd made with my own hands into the trash, went out, bought a bottle of wine, and headed to the cemetery. I didn't want that stupid title as Louis's fiancée anymore.