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Heiress to Don DeLuca's Throne Novel Cover

Heiress to Don DeLuca's Throne

After a devastating betrayal on her coming-of-age day, Elena DeLuca’s dreams of leading her family's empire are shattered. Enter Dominic Romano, a dangerous figure claiming her late father promised her hand in marriage to unite their factions. Now, Elena must rise from the ashes of her past to reclaim her birthright. As she uncovers dark family secrets, she must navigate a treacherous web of enemies and decide if her enigmatic new husband is her ultimate protector or her greatest threat.
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Chapter 3

Elena’s POV

“What?!” I stammered, blinking in disbelief. I couldn’t believe her audacity. The whole crowd’s attention shifted onto me, and I froze in place, paralyzed by a mix of shame and a growing, simmering rage.

"You… you cut me," Clara continued, voice trembling, as if she were the real victim. "You took advantage when no one was looking, and you cut my finger!"

I glanced down and saw her finger dripping blood onto the floor, the red stark against the tiles. The sight of it made people around us gasp and panic, drawing even more attention to her.

“You’re lying! I didn’t do that!” I shouted back, but my voice wavered. The sight of blood, the confusion, and the humiliation were all mixing together in a painful swirl, and I stammered, trying to find the words. “I… I feel…”

Suddenly, I heard Marco and Enzo’s voices, loud and panicked.

"Clara!" they yelled, rushing over to her side. Instead of helping me, they surrounded her, their expressions filled with worry. Despite it being just a cut—a shallow one at that—they fussed over her with urgency.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” they murmured, their attention fully on her.

Meanwhile, I struggled to stand, slipping on the frosting that covered me. Ms. Rossi finally came to my side, offering a steady hand.

“Elena, are you okay?” she asked, her tone gentle and concerned.

But the damage was done. The brothers had chosen Clara, leaving me alone in my own humiliation, and the pain cut deeper than anything Clara could have faked.

"Elena! How dare you hurt her!" Marco screamed, his voice filled with fury. His eyes were wide with rage as he pointed a finger at me, glaring like I was the worst person in the world.

But I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand the humiliation, the anger, the betrayal.

With all the strength I had left, I managed to stand.

I shoved past him, pushing through the crowd, not caring about anything or anyone. I ran—away from them, away from the mess, away from my own birthday party.

It’s been days since my birthday party ended drastically, and yet, here I am, still locked away in my room, unable to open my phone or watch television.

I’m too embarrassed by everything that happened. I know I made a mess of things, confronting Clara without thinking, but my anger took over. I couldn’t handle the humiliation I received from the brothers.

For the past few days, I’ve just been lying in bed, barely eating or getting up. But then, there was a knock on my door.

"Ms. Elena," came the voice of the maid. "Yes?" I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

"Ma'am, Sir Marco, Sir Enzo, and Ms. Rossi are requesting you to come down and eat. They’re waiting for you."

I took a deep breath. They’d been doing this for days, not rushing in to confront me. They probably wanted to give me space, time to calm down, and I was grateful for that. But it had been a while now, and I knew it was time to face them.

"Okay, I’ll come down," I said, my voice hoarse.

The maid closed the door softly behind me, and the familiar darkness of my room engulfed me again. It felt heavy, just like the weight in my chest. I took another deep breath, tried to compose myself, and walked out of my room.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw Marco and Enzo sitting in the living room. Ms. Rossi is nowhere. They looked like they had been waiting for me for a while.

When they saw me, I could tell their expressions soured even more, as if they were annoyed just by my presence. I walked up to them, sat directly in front of them, and got straight to the point.

"What do you want to talk about? Is this about the party? About the humiliation you both gave me? Or is it about the shame I caused to Clara?" I already knew the answer to my own question, but I couldn’t help it.

Marco spoke first, his voice cold and dangerous, deep with anger, and his eyes were burning with fury as he looked at me. "I didn’t like what you did. You have no shame, can’t even accept that we rejected you for the marriage you wanted. And then, after that, you humiliated Clara. What’s worse, you even cut her finger. You need to apologize to her."

His accusations hit me one by one, each one stinging more than the last. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

"I didn’t cut her!" I yelled, the frustration pouring out of me. "Why are you all making it seem like I hurt her when I didn’t even do that? She’s been manipulating you both, she’s not even real! She pushed me, but what did you do? You came to her instead!"

"Elena, enough," Enzo snapped, standing up. His eyes were filled with rage, and it felt like he wanted to point a gun at me. "You’ve done enough to her. And now you won’t even admit your mistake?"

He shook his head in disbelief, and Marco followed up with words that crushed me.

"If you don’t apologize to her, then get out of this mansion and never come back."

I fell silent for a moment, stunned by their words, by the harshness in their voices. And at that moment, I couldn't control myself anymore.

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