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He Cheated, So I Proposed to the Don Novel Cover

He Cheated, So I Proposed to the Don

After five years of loyalty, Lydia’s world collapses at her engagement party when Marco Falcone reveals a secret mistress and a five-year-old heir. Marco demands Lydia wait six months while he legitimizes his son, expecting her silent compliance. Instead, Lydia rejects his terms and publicly breaks their engagement. In a bold power move, she proposes to Lorenzo Moretti, New York’s most formidable Don and Marco's rival, who has long desired her for himself.
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Chapter 3

"Leo, you will apologize for what you did! Now!" My voice cracked like a whip in the vast living room.

That was my mother’s most treasured photograph, now in pieces at the feet of this feral child.

"Why should I?" Leo jutted out his chin, defiant. "My mommy said this is my home now!"

Sofia rose from the couch and glided to Leo's side, placing a protective hand on his shoulder. "That's right, baby. This house is under new management."

Just then, the sound of a key in the lock announced Marco's arrival. He walked in, his eyes taking in the scene—the broken frame on the floor, my rigid posture. He frowned.

"What's going on?"

"Your son just destroyed the only photograph I have of my mother. I want an apology," I stated, pointing at the glittering mess.

Marco glanced from me to Sofia, then sighed with theatrical weariness. "Lydia, you're overreacting. He's five. You can't hold a child accountable for an accident."

"Overreacting?" I couldn't believe the words.

"As the future Donna of this family, you should learn to be more magnanimous." Marco walked towards the kitchen, dismissing the issue. "Sofia and Leo are hungry. Why don't you make them some dinner? It's good practice for being a wife."

I stared at his back, a sudden, blinding clarity washing over me. "Marco, this is my apartment."

"And right now, Sofia and Leo need a safe place," Marco's tone hardened. "Lydia, don't be so selfish. You wouldn't throw a mother and her child out on the street, would you?"

Sofia clutched Leo, her face a mask of feigned vulnerability. "Lydia, we truly have nowhere else to go. Please, for Leo's sake."

I was about to tell them exactly where they could go when Leo snatched a steak knife from the dinner tray on the coffee table and flung it at me. The blade sliced across my forearm, leaving a bright red gash.

"You bad woman! Don't bully my mommy!" Leo shrieked.

On pure instinct, I shoved him away. He stumbled and fell to the floor, immediately bursting into theatrical sobs.

"Lydia!" Marco rushed over, his face contorted in rage. "How could you lay a hand on a child?"

"He cut me with a knife!" I held out my arm, where blood was already seeping through the sleeve of my white dress.

"It's a dinner knife! He was scared and defending his mother!" Marco didn't even glance at my injury. He was crouched over Leo, checking him for imaginary bruises.

Sofia scooped the boy into her arms. "You see, Marco? This is the woman you chose. She's a danger to our son."

Watching the absurd theater unfold, I finally snapped. "This is my apartment! Get out! All of you, now!"

Marco slowly rose to his full height, his eyes cold as steel. "If you kick them out, then our engagement is truly over. I will not have a vicious, unstable woman as the Donna of the Falcone family."

I almost laughed. The title was worthless, and the engagement was a joke. He had no idea I was already Lorenzo's wife.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Marco froze, clearly thrown by my lack of desperation. He must have decided I was still posturing. "Lydia, I admit I handled things badly. But are you entirely blameless? You're always so consumed with your Rossi family business, you were never the gentle, attentive woman I needed. If you would just accept Leo and Sofia, we can move past this."

He took a step closer, his tone turning persuasive. "I can even forgive your little scene with Lorenzo Moretti. But you have to know, a man of his stature is just toying with you. I'm the one who truly loves you, who will always be here for you..."

I looked at the man I had loved for five years and saw only an arrogant, delusional fool. It was pathetic.

Without another word, I turned and walked to the master bedroom. The moment I opened the door, a foul miasma of stale sweat and cheap perfume assaulted me. The sheets on the bed—our bed—were a tangled mess. In the trash can, a used condom.

My stomach churned with bile. This bed, the one we were supposed to share after our wedding, had been desecrated.

Methodically, I packed a small bag with my essentials, my ID, and my credit cards. Then I walked out of that apartment, out of that life, without a single look back.

Half an hour later, I was in a luxury suite at one of Lorenzo's hotels, the silence a welcome balm.

My phone buzzed. A video from an unknown number.

I opened it. My stomach dropped.

It was a sex tape. Marco and Sofia. In my bed.

Marco was grunting and moaning, "Fuck, Sofia, you feel so good... I fucking love you..." Her ecstatic cries filled the audio.

A text message followed a moment later: "He said fucking me in your bed was the best he's ever had."

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