The Jilted Bride's Secret Mafia King

Chapter 3 3

Word Count: 648 | Released on: 01/04/2026

ella

heavy drapes of the guest room, offering no warmth. I dressed quickly in my old navy dress and

argas stood by the counter. He didn't greet me. Instead, he placed a single plate on a small corner tabl

rigid, his face an unreadable mask. "Mr. Moretti's trus

counts in the armored car last night. Damiano was pushing me, searching for the bre

d bread, and took a bite. It tasted like ash and bi

sip of the terrible coffee. "I can cook on the stove from now on.

d. I didn't know then that somewhere in the dark library, Damiano was listening to ever

boxes and the lingering scent of my past life. I ignored the clutter, focusing entirely on carefully placi

open, hitting the wall

ingly receding further in his rage, clu

aper onto the table. The headline screamed about my s

Brayan," I said, zi

that cripple just to get back at me? You threw a tantrum and tied yourself to a p

I didn't know I possessed. Damiano might be a dangerous st

my arm to drag me closer. "You're coming with me. I w

n college, I twisted my arm sharply against his grip, stepped in

ard. His heel caught on a loose floorboard, and he crashed

thetic, arrogant man I had almost ma

voice cold, steady, and echoing with a newfound author

suitcase, stepped over his sprawl

Chapter End

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The Jilted Bride's Secret Mafia King

Benjamen Ernst Mafia

“Standing at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, I waited to marry my wealthy fiancé in front of three hundred of New York's elite. But right before the vows, my phone vibrated in my bouquet. It was a text from my groom: he was backing out because my maid of honor-my supposed best friend-was pregnant with his child. Before the shock of this double betrayal could even settle, his mother dug her manicured claws into my arm and publicly humiliated me. "A woman who can't even attract her own man, how is she worthy of the Doyle name?" She mocked my background, calling me a worthless orphan who only knew how to draw blueprints, turning my broken heart into a public execution of my dignity. The terrified girl inside me vanished, replaced by a dark, burning rage. I didn't understand why I had to let this arrogant family step all over me while they played the innocent victims. I yanked my arm free, tore off my expensive lace veil, and walked straight to the podium to grab the microphone. "The wedding is canceled. The groom is currently busy with my maid of honor." I walked out of the church, leaving them in absolute shock. But as I stumbled onto the street, I fell right into the arms of Damiano Moretti-the exiled, dangerous mafia boss known as the Ghost, who sat in a custom wheelchair. Looking into his cold, storm-gray eyes, I made a reckless, desperate deal. "Marry me."”