The Night Before the Wedding, He Wanted a Different Bride

On the night before the wedding, my fiancé suddenly asked me to give up the ceremony for his first love, Sofia.

I turned it down cold in my former life, only to become the Chicago mob’s godmother at a lavish wedding.

When Sofia heard the news, she was heartbroken and jumped into the sea to take her own life.

Vincent blamed me for Sofia’s death.

For the next thirty years, the words he said to me most often were:

“Elena, if I had married Sofia that day, she wouldn't have died.”

On his deathbed, he told our children:

“Don’t bury me with Elena.”

The year after he died, I fell gravely ill and passed away.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night before the wedding.

Over the phone, Vincent's voice came again: "Sofia needs this title more than you do. Everyone knows I love you, so they respect you—but Sofia's different. She's just a poor orphan girl..."

Before he could finish, I calmly replied, “Fine, I agree.”

I turned and signed the papers to cut ties with the family.

I flew to Sicily, home to the Salk Institute that I had always looked up to.

In this life, I refuse to be his appendage.

"Elena!"

Consigliere Luca's voice pulled me back.

He placed a parchment document on the ebony desk in front of me, sealed with wax stamped with the family's golden crest.

"The Council of Elders approved your marriage application unanimously. Welcome to the Gambino family, officially."

"After all these years, he's finally giving you the title you deserve. Congratulations, child."

My eyes locked onto that crest—the symbol of ultimate power. And when I saw the date, I froze.

I had been reborn.

In my past life, I'd been overjoyed at this moment, thinking I would finally stand beside him, sharing his power and glory.

But that very night, Vincent's call came.

He asked me to give it all up—the wedding, the title—to his first love, Sofia.

A sharp ring from the internal phone shattered my memory.

Luca answered immediately, his posture respectful. "Don, yes, the documents have been delivered... Miss Elena is right here."

He covered the receiver, nodded at me, and lowered his voice. "It's the Don. He must be calling to discuss the wedding details with you personally."

I stood up and took the heavy antique receiver.

"You got the papers?"

Vincent paused for a moment, as if choosing his words.

"Sofia's back."

"You know her father just passed away. There's been infighting in her family—her uncles are all circling her shares and her port control. She needs the godmother title as protection, to hold her ground."

The exact same speech.

In my past life, I exploded with rage.

"I'm the one who's been by your side. You're marrying me, and only me!"

That stubbornness got me what I wanted—I married Vincent. And all it earned me was thirty years of his resentment.

Vincent's voice on the phone pulled me back.

"Elena, you're different from her."

"You fought your way out of blood and fire. Without this title, you're still the Ice Rose that everyone fears. But her... she's too fragile. Give this one up for her—for me. I'll make it up to you. Name anything you want, and I'll..."

"Fine."

The line went dead silent.

After several long seconds, Vincent spoke again, hesitantly. "You agree?"

"Yes. I agree."

"The wedding. The godmother position. Give it all to her. And you don't owe me anything in return."

Because, from this moment on, I'm not going to marry you anymore.

I could hear his breathing quicken on the other end. He probably hadn't expected me to give in so easily, and it seemed to throw him off balance.

"Good. I'm glad you understand." He quickly recovered, his voice slipping back into that usual tone of control. "Friday's ceremony—you should... stay away. As for after, I can transfer those nightclubs in Brooklyn to your name."

"Not necessary." I cut him off. "Anything else? If not, I'm hanging up."

I hung up without waiting for his reply.

Consigliere Luca had been watching my face nervously the whole time. He stepped forward quickly. "Miss, the Don...?"

I turned to face the elder who had always looked out for me in the family. "Uncle Luca, please tell the Council... I voluntarily renounce all titles and the betrothal to be confirmed at the ceremony. Give everything to Sofia."

"What?" Luca's face went pale, almost speechless. "Do you know what that means? This is what you earned! You bled for this family—you rooted out the traitors, you reclaimed three smuggling routes! What does that Sofia Colombo have to do with any of it?"

"Uncle Luca, my mind is made up."

I slid the document I'd once dreamed of having back across the desk toward him—gently, but firmly.