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I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 799    |    Released on: 05/01/2026

Vitiel

was a liv

r, a constant, throbbing remi

cked. Soot still marred the pristine white o

ispered, his v

hed for

before his skin

d at the sterile linoleum floor. "But we can fix it. Later. Laser surgery. Skin g

d. My voice was a ruin, a

wringing his hands. "She cares so much about beauty. I kn

said, the words

let me

burn! I saved her

" I

le

bably needs you to

o defensive anger. "Fine. I'll come

ormed

d three

r, I discharged myself

rt. Every movement was a negotiation with ago

n't g

parlor in Queens. The neon sign in the

viper tattooed across his face. He took one lo

ds on a rag. "I can't tattoo over that.

e steel. "Around it. And over the

like a motherfucker. The

o

I wanted on a

d Eng

urves. A letter meant

lade. I wanted the ink to bleed int

d for tw

ing pain drowned out the chaotic noise in

urn was still there, ugly and angry red. B

tt

i

rd

anything. It m

penthouse as the

pinged in

down. I'll see

was a cold,

whispered to t

the guest

nt

ai

s hand, the amber liquid sloshin

e slurred, stumbling toward me

one, and pulled the collar of my s

e saw the black ink peeking

e

th a pathetic mixture of hope and

he whi

interpreting the Gothic script entirely. "You t

ne. "I know I messed up. But this proves it. We belon

ed to

and flat agai

ush

oid of warmth. "You have a big day tom

Right. Matteo's orphan. God, this is going to be a circus. Just

y part perfect

stling a tun

to the

out the g

stel bridesmaid dress Da

Silk. Comple

s a w

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I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother
I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother
“I was a Vitiello, sold to the Morettis to secure an alliance. For five years, I quietly loved Dante, counting down the minutes until our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral. But it ended with a single text three minutes before the ceremony. "Stay at the apartment. Sofia is awake. Don't make a scene." His ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, had woken from a coma with no memory. Just like that, I was erased. For thirty days, I waited in the shadows while Dante played hero to a woman who didn't remember him. He told me he was protecting her fragile mind. But then I found the truth. I stood outside the doctor's office and heard Dante refuse a treatment that would restore Sofia's memory. "If she remembers, she might leave again," Dante told the doctor. "Elena will wait. She's a good soldier. Let me have my fantasy." He wasn't protecting her. He was keeping her broken to feed his ego, banking on my submission. He thought I was furniture he could put in storage. He was wrong. I didn't go back to the apartment. Instead, I dialed a number every made man in New York feared. "Matteo," I said to Dante's lethal older brother, the King of the underworld. "I am done waiting. I want to be a Moretti bride. But not Dante's."”