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Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

Rabbit

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

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Chapter One: Kiss The Bride

If her mother were here, she'd probably cry at the sight of her daughter in lace and love.

But her mother wasn't here.

And Naomi wasn't sure if what she felt was excitement... or something.

She felt Damien's arm slip gently around her waist as they stood before the officiant. Naomi gripped her bouquet tighter-not to stop herself from tripping, but to anchor herself to reality.

This was real.

She was married.

Her heart thudded beneath layers of satin and lace, catching in her throat when the officiant's voice echoed, "You may now kiss the bride."

Damien turned toward her, his hand brushing her cheek before he leaned in.

His lips were warm, slow, and patient against hers. The room erupted in applause, but Naomi barely heard it. It was like the world had gone quiet for just a second, and it was only the two of them.

"You're doing great, Mrs. Everhart," he whispered against her lips as they pulled apart, his voice low and teasing.

She smiled, cheeks blooming with warmth. "You make that sound like you've been waiting forever to say it."

"I have," he said, that charming grin sliding into place.

She believed him.

He had a way of saying things that made her feel... precious. Like she mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, Naomi's eyes flickered across the crowd-and landed on her father.

He sat stiffly at the family table like he had every right to be there.

Her smile faltered for the briefest second. She needed someone to walk her down the aisle. She just hadn't wanted it to be him.

But there he was-silent, unreadable, and still pretending to be the father she needed.

And then her gaze slid one seat over.

Empty.

That seat wasn't supposed to be empty.

It should've been her mother's.

She blinked quickly, willing the heat behind her eyes to settle. You're not allowed to cry today, Naomi told herself.

Her mother would've wanted her to be happy. She would've been the loudest one clapping. The first one crying.

She felt her chest squeeze at the memory of one of their late-night talks.

"Your wedding day should feel like the start of your forever, not the end of anything else."

Petals floated down from the ceiling, a blur of soft color. Naomi's smile widened-then flickered just slightly when her eyes landed on the empty seat beside her father.

That seat wasn't supposed to be empty.

It should've been her mother's.

She blinked quickly, looking away. You're not allowed to cry today, Naomi told herself.

Her mother would've wanted her to be happy. She would've been the loudest one clapping. The first one crying.

She felt her chest squeeze at the memory of one of their late-night talks.

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