A Runaway Bride English

Three days before the wedding.

I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman.

Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress.

The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem.

It didn't spell Elena.

It read Sofia.

He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name.

Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife.

He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance.

I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared.

"The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?"

"Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport."

"Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys."

I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday.

He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead.

Chapter 1

Elena Vitello POV

I stood in the dressing room of Chicago's finest bridal boutique, my nails digging into my palms so hard the pain was the only thing keeping the nausea at bay.

My finger hovered over the call button on my phone.

Through a gap in the velvet curtains, I watched the man I loved caress the pregnant belly of another woman.

My reflection in the gilded mirror mocked me. Twenty-two years old. Daughter of a don. Raised to be a prize. But the sickness climbing up my throat wasn't fear. It was the taste of gunpowder and ash.

I pressed the phone to my ear.

Papa answered on the first ring.

"The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked. "Is it still valid?"

Silence on the other end. But it was the kind of silence that had weight. That pressed down.

"Elena?" my father asked.

"That contract was signed when you were a child."

" Dante Cavallaro is Underboss now. "

"He has a reputation. Broken bones and early graves. He would tear a boy like Luca apart without a second thought. "

"Why are you asking me this three days before your wedding?"

"Because I'm done playing with boys, Papa. Call the Godfather. Tell him the Vitello daughter accepts. I'm marrying Dante Cavallaro on Saturday."

I hung up before he could argue.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but my hands were steady.