Dumped by the Don, Crowned by the Mob

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding.

He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone."

I am five months pregnant by then.

After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings.

Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan.

The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold.

The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends.

The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests.

But everything's different now.

Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home.

If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

This was the 17th wedding with my fiance, Rafael Holloway. For every one of the previous 16, he'd left me standing alone at the altar for his fragile sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan.

I walked down the aisle holding his arm when the baby in my womb gave a sharp kick.

"Our baby's been waiting for this day, too," he whispered and squeezed my hand with a smile.

When the priest began the vows, all eyes in the chapel turned toward us. That was when his phone rang with a call. It was from Natalia again.

Rafael's expression went stone-cold, and his grip tightened subconsciously.

"Don't answer it, Rafael." My eyes were locked on him.

A torn look swirled in his eyes as his thumb hovered over the decline button. Then, the call ended on its own.

I was about to breathe out in relief when the second call arrived.

"Gianna, maybe it's an emergency. She never calls this much," he muttered, trying to free his hand from my grasp.

But I held on and reminded him. "Our baby is waiting to hear his father say 'I do.'"

His eyes widened at the words, then he tore his hand free as if my touch burned him. "She's Antonio's only daughter!"

I wasn't surprised to hear that line again. Antonio Sullivan, his father's right-hand man, had died taking a bullet for him.

Before his death, his final words, "Take care of Natalia," ruined my life.

When Rafael checked his phone and read the text from the hospital, his voice cracked. "She took sleeping pills!"

"Again? Last month, she took pills too, and the nurses discovered that the bottle was never opened." I scoffed.

"Gianna!" he barked my name and shot me a deeply disappointed look. "Before Antonio died…"

"He entrusted his daughter to you for protection! He never gave you a knife to stab into my back!

"Look around you! Our family, men, and unborn baby are all waiting for you to say 'I do'!"

When the phone rang a third time, Natalia's weak sob came through the speaker. "Rafael, help me…"

Rafael's eyes turned cold as he pried off my fingers like I was the crazy one. "Please! A wedding can wait, but a life can't!"

That was such a familiar line and excuse he'd given on our 16th wedding cancellation.

"Rafael!" My voice echoed through the hall, but he'd turned, looking more final than the last 16 turns.

Whispers rippled among the guests. Some scoffed, some pitied me, and most shook their heads as if they weren't surprised.

They wouldn't be because the first wedding had ended the same way. Natalia had suddenly collapsed, and Rafael had rushed her to the hospital.

I'd chased him to the hospital in my wedding gown, only to see her lying pale in bed and clutching his sleeve. When she saw me, her eyes flashed triumphantly.

Rafael never saw the mocking smile she flashed while hiding behind his shoulder.

Our fifth wedding had been an intimate garden ceremony. I'd waited all day in a simple dress for my fiance, who never arrived, while the elders sneered behind my back.

"Can't even secure her own wedding…"

The cunning elders of Southern Silenzio had never hidden their contempt for me, a Northern Silenzio origin.

"So what if the Rossetti family's Principessa is clever? She still can't hold the Don's heart."

Later, Rafael held me and comfortingly promised I'd never be looked down upon again.

The tenth time he disappeared mid-reception, one of his younger cousins joked at the dining table. "Rafael, just marry both Gianna and Natalia! It'll save you the trouble of coming back and forth!"

He shot his cousin a glance before leaving without looking back.

This time, I would no longer wait.

"The wedding's off. There won't be another."

The Southern elders seemed shocked, and even the former Don, Rafael's father, who never bothered to look my way, lifted his head.

The priest stammered, "M-Ms. Rossetti, m-maybe we can…"

"I said, the wedding's off," I repeated.

Rafael's father narrowed his eyes. "No one dishonors a Holloway wedding."

I unflinchingly met his stare and snapped back, "Then tell your heir to come back and finish it."

Under shocked stares and gasps, I lifted my hands and unpinned the tiara given by Rafael's father. It was a family heirloom passed down to every Holloway bride who swore fidelity at the altar.

"No!" He jumped to his feet, but it was too late.

I smashed it to the ground, and diamonds scattered across the floor, stunning all guests present.

The moment I turned away, I felt lighter than I ever had.

…

Back in my room, I sat at my vanity and slowly wiped away my makeup. When Rafael called, I picked up, only to hear Natalia's giggles through the line. "Thank you for spending my birthday with me, Rafael."

I almost laughed. Sleeping pills followed by birthday parties, huh? She wasn't even bothered to commit to the act now.

Rafael's voice sounded lazy and honeyed with reassurance as he said, "Gianna, Natalia's fine now, so shall we do the wedding in a few days? I've booked Littlewood Chapel; you mentioned you love the frescoes, right?"

He always promised next time, like there was still something left to save.

"Whatever," I murmured.

Oblivious to the subtle finality in my voice, his voice softened. "Oh, and how did the checkup go? Is the baby healthy?"

"Yeah, perfectly," I muttered, resting my hand on my belly.

He chuckled softly with relief. "That's great. When I get back, let's—"

"Rafael," I said, cutting him off. "Is Natalia's birthday party over yet?"

There was a brief silence before his laugh sounded over the phone. "Are you jealous?"

Instead of answering, I ended the call and pulled out a flight ticket from the drawer, headed for the Northern Silenzio mafia headquarters in Montrava.

It came with an invitation card with gold-embossed script shimmering under the lights.

"Welcome home, Ms. Rossetti."