Page 138 of Monster in Disguise

"How can I not when I hear gems like this?" His lips curl up. "Lina, can I see you for a moment?" I nod, and he takes me back to the room.

In the center of the bed is a big white rectangular box.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

I lift the top off to reveal a white dress – a wedding dress.

"What... What is this for?" I stammer as I unfold the dress. I'm shocked as I stare at the most beautiful dress I've ever seen.

"I've been working on a little something for you. I know you didn't get your fairytale wedding, and I'd like to remedy that." His expression is hopeful, and my chest tightens with emotion.

How could I have even entertained the thought thatthisman could be capable of anything as heinous as what I experienced that night? How could I have even suspected him?

"I have no words," I say, my eyes moving from the dress to the wonderful man in front of me.

"Come on, try it on," he urges me, and I gladly accept.

The dress is a dream come to life. With a bodice that hugs my curves and ends in a delicate v, and a full skirt that flares out in true princess fashion, it's everything I could have ever wanted. As I spin in front of the mirror, watching the skirts swish and sway around me, I can't help but feel like a fairytale princess.

"It's perfect," I exclaim to Marcello, who stands behind me with a proud smile on his face. He steps closer and places his hands on my waist, drawing me even closer to him. "You look absolutely breathtaking, Lina." His lips graze over my forehead before trailing down to my ear. "And you're all mine."

"Yes," I whisper, feeling my heart race at his closeness. "All yours."

But then he reaches under the bed and pulls out another box. My eyes widen as he opens it to reveal a pair of stunning white satin pumps adorned with glittering embellishments.

"Wow," I breathe out in awe.

Taking one foot in his hand, Marcello gently slides on the first shoe, leaving a trail of kisses along my ankle and calf as he does so. He repeats the same motion with the other foot, and when he finally steps back to admire his work, I can't believe how lucky I am to have him by my side.

"Come see for yourself," he says, gesturing towards the wall-length mirror. As I approach it, I can't help but feel like Cinderella admiring her glass slippers for the first time. This truly is a fairytale moment, and I never want it to end.

Marcello comes and embraces me from behind, laying his head on my shoulder.

"This is what I see when I look at you. Something so ethereal sometimes I find it hard to believe you're real."

"Marcello," I whisper in awe. Looking at myself in the mirror, wearing this stunning gown, I can't help but see myself through his eyes. And I feel beautiful. "Thank you."

"I love you, Lina." He comes around, cupping my face in his palms for a kiss.

"I love you too," I reply, and I instantly feel guilty about what I've been keeping from him.

He's probably going to be so disappointed in me for even contemplating that it might be true. But I have to tell him. I owe it to him.

"I need to tell you something." I take a step back. His eyebrows furrow in question, so I let the words flow out of my mouth before I lose the courage. "A couple of weeks ago I received an anonymous note. After that, more notes started coming in, almost daily. Until I got a message on my computer."

"What did it say? Lina, you should have told me earlier. It might be the same person who's been harassing you before."

My eyes lower to the ground as I begin to speak, the heaviness weighing down on my chest. "The notes were about Claudia's father," I say, my voice barely audible. "And the last message...it said that you're Claudia's father." My words hang in the air, thick with tension and disbelief. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "It's absolutely insane, I know that now. I'm so sorry I didn't come to you before." I finally look up at him, hoping he won't hold it against me for keeping this information from him.

But Marcello's face is drained of all color. He takes a step back, his expression stricken and his movements slow and deliberate.

"Marcello?" I call out to him, my heart racing with fear. His reaction is so immediate and intense that I can feel it reverberating through my body.

He shakes his head ever so slowly, his eyes wide with horror. I watch as his features contort with shock and pain, unable to comprehend what's happening.

"It's not true, is it?" I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. But instead of denying it, he pales even more at my question, making my heart drop to my stomach.

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