My Fiancee Risked a Fatal Allergy for His First Love

Chapter 2

His eyes burned red, fingers shaking as he tenderly swabbed iodine across the crisscrossed whip marks covering my skin.

"Kate," his voice roughened with emotion, "I swear on my life, I'll be your shield. Not one more drop of your blood will spill because of me."

Yet the gashes on his own body ran deeper than mine.

He kept that promise. Five years later, the underworld trembled at the mere whisper of his name.

No blade ever touched me again until tonight.

Vincent blew softly on my stinging wounds, his breath warm. "Must you make a mountain out of a molehill? Don't you see? Eva's frightened face... it's just like yours used to"

Smack! My palm struck his cheek with enough force to taste copper, his blood or mine mixing with the iodine's sharp tang. His head snapped sideways. When those eyes finally met mine, they'd turned glacial.

"Sleep on it." He straightened, voice like forged steel. "But mark my words that you will be my wife."

The door slammed behind him. My stinging palm trembled in the silence.

Hours later, I photographed the gilded wedding invite and texted my fiance. His reply came before I could blink.

My fiance: Congratulations on choosing my custom design. Your prize awaits.

Assuming his overseas business would keep him away, I shrugged until dawn broke with his butler at my door, bearing an invitation.

To an exclusive gala hosted by none other than my favorite painter.

My heart raced as I entered only to freeze. There stood Eva, dripping in diamonds that caught the light with every calculated sway of her hips. Gone was the timid bubble tea girl. Vincent's spoiling had sculpted her into something venomous.

I turned away, but she materialized beside me, lips curled in a viper's smile. "Think he loves you? You're just the only woman who doesn't make him break out in hives. He'd gladly die tangled in my sheets, claiming it'd be paradise."

With a deliberate shiver, her shawl slipped to reveal shoulders littered with love bites, each bruise a dark rose petal pressed into skin by Vincent's teeth.

I stepped around her, but she danced into my path, hands theatrically cradling her flat stomach. "Pity your barren womb could never give him what I already carry."

Snatching a wineglass from a passing tray, I hurled it. Burgundy splashed across her ivory gown like a stab wound.

"If you've forgotten how to speak like a human," I hissed, "let Vincent reeducate you!"

Her ear-splitting shrieks drew every eye. Muttering apologies to the horrified host, I bolted only for Vincent to corner me at the valet stand, wrenching the keys from my grip with enough force to bruise.

"You actually went after her belly?" he snarled, jaw clenched so tight I heard teeth grind. "She could've miscarried!"

I held his gaze, my voice arctic. "I do not."

Vincent's face darkened with fury at my denial. "Don 't be so selfish!" he bellowed. "Just because you can 't have kids doesn't mean you get to stop me from being a dad!"

My eyes flew open wide, staring at him in shock. I never thought I'd hear those words from him.

Back when Vincent was still making his name in the underworld, plotting to take down his last rival, his plans covered everything... except me.

When his enemy couldn't reach him, I became the target. Three days and nights of hell.

I survived, but I'd never be able to have children. I slapped him hard, my palm stinging from the impact. His head jerked to the side, a bright red handprint blooming on his cheek.

He froze for a second, then it hit him. His eyes reddened as he yanked me into a crushing embrace, burying his face in my neck.

I felt his tears wetting my skin.

"Eva... she looks like you," he choked out. "Her kid would be just like yours. Once we're married, you'll raise the baby. You'll still be a mom."