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."”