The Don’s Faceless Bride Chapter 02
Even though I’d already cried my eyes out last night, my eyes still stung now.
My parents loved Isabella—I’d always known that.
She had a way with words. She’d wave and greet them from across the street, pouring out sweet talk like it cost her nothing, and she always had them beaming with joy.
Not like me, who sometimes couldn’t even recognize my own parents and would walk right past them like strangers because of my face blindness.
They’d gotten mad at me more than once because of it, accusing me of not being able to remember their faces after all these years of living together.
But I never imagined that on something as important as my wedding, my parents would agree to swap grooms—letting a stranger marry me in Marco’s place—just for Isabella.
A tear fell onto the fake groom’s neck. His back stiffened, and he tried his best to imitate Marco’s voice, whispering to me.
“Why are you crying? Is my back too bony? Am I hurting you?”
“Should I put you down now? I can hold your hand and walk with you instead.”
I shook my head and tightened my arms around his neck.
“Today’s a happy day. I’m just glad.”
Glad that I could see my fiancé’s true colors before the wedding. Glad to know that my parents didn’t really love me that much.
He carefully helped me into the car. He was probably afraid I’d figure out he wasn’t Marco, so he barely spoke to me the whole way.
But when he noticed me hugging my arms, he quietly reached over and turned up the AC.
Until halfway there, our wedding convoy was forced to a stop.
I’d just lowered the visor mirror to touch up my makeup when the sudden brake made me lurch forward.
He reacted quickly, instantly putting his hand in front of my forehead.
“Did you hit yourself?”
I shook my head. He explained.
“There’s another wedding convoy coming the opposite way. The road’s too narrow here, so we’re blocked.”
Wedding cars aren’t supposed to turn back, so neither convoy would yield, and we were stuck.
I opened my eyes—and my pupils shrank when I saw the familiar license plate in front of us.
Half a month before the wedding, Marco had bought a new car, saying he wanted it to be our lead car on the big day.
The plate read L5201—a lucky number.
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. I even praised him for getting such a lucky plate.
Only now did it dawn on me: New York plates start with NY.
Together, it was NY·L5201.
The letters on the plate were Isabella’s initials.
And the lucky number? Marco was openly declaring his love for her, right under my nose.
So the car facing us was carrying Isabella and Marco.
But Marco had told me the plates weren’t ready yet, so we couldn’t use that car as the lead.
My phone buzzed. A message from Isabella popped up.
“Ava, looks like there’s traffic.”
“Can you ask Marco to back up a little?”
“If we keep delaying, we’ll miss the ceremony time.”
Meanwhile, the “Marco” sitting next to me was frowning at the road ahead.
“I’ll get out and see if I can squeeze through.”
He reached for his seatbelt, but I stopped him, pointing at another road.
“Turn in here.”
He frowned slightly and refused.
“This road is bumpy and uneven. It’s bad luck for the wedding car to go this way.”
“Bad luck?”
I dropped my smile and shot back.
“What could be more unlucky than swapping grooms on your wedding day?”