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Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 846    |    Released on: Today at 20:01

na

s of water in the dim penthouse

ithout a second

iately blasted through the

g with you?"

nthouse and I'm starving to death! You didn't reply to my

ersonal maid, Lu

t, completely stri

nd of struggling on the

o snatched t

hell are you ac

h that arrogant authority he mi

he snapped. "Lucia took a bullet for yo

t, dry, utterly

ady been paid in full,

ith your body. That covers way

alking about? How dare y

ng the role of a falsely

his next lie, I slammed the re

started vibrating o

texts from the two

lting our hon

you've gone crazy,

ur emotions in che

ions away as if cleari

vy front door was unlo

o the penthouse, acting as if

g onto my luxury sofa and w

mported sparkling water, the one Lor

us, but he always made sure he

ook a large gulp, and pu

grudge, Siena,

ble kitchen island, striki

behalf. He knows you're just stres

e counter, watching her silentl

ness. The European operation re

, her eyes suddenly glint

800,000. Transfer it to

ntly, without a singl

ake smile collapsing

mean, no?"

u won't give me cash, then hand over the $300,000

ont door right at that moment

Just like always, he bl

ena," he sighed, sounding utterly ex

the entryway console, ac

dust anyway. We can use it to subsidize Lucia's e

for seven years, feeling an over

truly seen the repulsive truth

honor. At his core, he was nothing but a

fficially canceled,

over my chest, my

ribute money, it's already been liquidated and ca

get a sin

eyes, and walked over to sta

absolute finality for a

Siena," he lectured

engagement. You're just bargainin

looking incredibly smug and c

double the tribute to $600,000. Just give Luc

e was watching a child

that, in my eyes, he was a

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Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen
Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen
“"Siena, the syndicate's European expansion needs a bodyguard. Let me borrow your fiancé for three years." Exactly seven days before my high-profile mafia wedding, the best friend I considered a sister sat comfortably on my custom Italian sofa and made this absurd demand. She tapped the faint scar on her collarbone, the supposed proof that she had taken a bullet for me, now weaponized to guilt-trip me. "You owe me a life, remember? I'm not asking for your money or your territory. I'm just borrowing a man." Any honorable man would have sternly refused at a moment like this. But Lorenzo, the man I had loved for seven whole years, merely adjusted his expensive cuffs and smiled. "It's just business, Siena," he promised solemnly. "Three years will pass in a blink. When I return, our wedding will proceed exactly as planned. You've always been so understanding. Be a good, obedient mafia wife and don't make me worry, okay?" As he reached out, wanting to hold my hand, a wave of intense, physical revulsion violently churned in my stomach. I saw the unmistakable smudge of foundation on his crisp white collar. And the diamond promise bracelet he had given me, which had been missing for a long time, was now gleaming on Lucia's wrist. The truth hit me like a basin of ice water dumped over my head. The man I was about to marry was already sleeping with my best friend. The seven years of youth and devotion I had sacrificed for this man instantly turned to ash. I pulled out my phone, opened an encrypted channel, and sent a single message to my mother: "The engagement with Lorenzo is off. I am ready to meet the man you have been telling me about."”