Rejected Bride: Now I Rule Your Family

Chapter 8

Word Count: 712 | Released on: 14/07/2026

nto the massive oak desk and leaned back in my leather chair, ru

a thick cigar. I rolled it between my fingers, the

came at the

ered, carrying a small tray. On i

laced the glass on the desk beside my hand. "After

my hand. I took a sip. It was a ritual from my childhood, one she res

the tension in my shoul

er posture as elegant and erect as ever. She

sapphire necklace tod

surprised. "Sh

tle test beautifully," Eleanor

about the exchange from my head of secu

nt, the only sound the ticking of

on her?" my mother final

of Beatrice at the altar, defiant and proud. I thought of her in our room, co

bold," I said finally.

know you. You wouldn't have agreed to this marriage, not

There was something about the girl... a co

also an arrangement. In the beginning, we were like you and s

spoken so openly about her own marr

can trust completely," she said, her eyes distant with memory.

l, Beatrice. She has a lot of pain inside her. Marrying you was an act o

er voice softening. "Don't let this h

rds were barely a whisper.

a pain I had never fully understood. I knew her marriage to m

hed across the desk and took her ha

id. And I meant it.

re solid than any vo

her look younger. She squeezed my hand and the

ind out what she likes to

, watchi

mother's words echoing in my head, mingling w

prote

Chapter End

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Rejected Bride: Now I Rule Your Family

Catherine Mafia

“I stood at the altar in my wedding gown when my assistant handed me the phone. My fiancé, Devin, the heir to New York's most powerful mafia family, had just eloped with a waitress. He didn't just leave me; he broadcasted a photo of them kissing at the airport to the entire high society. A thousand guests whispered like a virus. Flashbulbs went off like gunfire. My father panicked, begging me to flee through the side door in shame. In the back room, the House family matriarch treated me like garbage, tossing her lesser, resentful grandsons at me to clean up the mess. "Choose one of them, or scurry away," her daughter-in-law sneered. If I compromised, I would be a permanent joke, a powerless hand-me-down bride for Devin to mock from his European paradise. I had played the perfect, obedient fiancée for years, only to be publicly executed like a fool. But I didn't shed a single tear. The humiliation froze into a sharp, calculated desire for vengeance. I refused to be their victim. I wanted to make Devin bow to me for the rest of his life. Lifting my heavy skirt, I walked straight to the center of the room, locking eyes with the terrifying man in the shadows. "Since the heir ran away, the compensation must be of equal value," I declared. I pointed past the furious matriarch, aiming directly at Devin's adoptive father-the ruthless, absolute Don of the House family, Brent House. "I choose him."”