His Brother's Bride

I was a nobody, but for three years, I was in love with Dante, the heir to the Blackwood family—Chicago's biggest name in the mob.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I couldn't wait to tell him the good news.

But then I heard his twin brother, Marco, ask him, "Bro, when are you gonna tell Rose it was me in her bed every night, pretending I was you?"

Dante's voice had a coldness I'd never heard before. "At the wedding, in one week. I'll expose everything, then I'll propose to Isabella."

Isabella. The rich girl who used to bully me.

So, this was all just payback for his precious Isabella.

But what Dante didn't know was that the wedding he'd so carefully planned would be missing its bride.

A week before I was supposed to marry Dante, heir to the Blackwood crime family, I found out I was pregnant. At the same time, I found out the truth about our love story—it was all an act to get revenge for his beloved Isabella, just because I’d “stolen her spotlight” back in school.

I didn’t let on that I knew. I quietly scheduled an abortion and submitted an application to become a war correspondent.

I decided to give Dante a “gift” of my own, right at the wedding.

The blood test was clear: Pregnant.

I stared at the word, my heart pounding. Three years. Three whole years with Dante, and we finally had a child of our own. The timing was perfect, right as we were planning our wedding.

The Chicago blizzard was brutal. There were hardly any cabs on the street. I shivered in the wind and snow for over twenty minutes before I finally flagged one down.

On the way, I kept imagining Dante's reaction. He'd freeze for a second, then flash that smile that always made my heart race. He'd pull me into a tight hug and whisper, "I love you, Rose."

The BlackRose Club was the Blackwood family’s private spot, insanely luxurious but in that quiet, old-money way. The guards at the door knew me and just nodded me in.

Dante was probably in a private room upstairs, handling business. I walked up the stairs slowly, my palms sweating. After tonight, everything would be different. We'd talk about baby names, plan our future.

The door to the room was slightly ajar. I could hear the low rumble of men talking and laughing. I took a deep breath, about to push the door open, when I heard a familiar voice.

"The three-year charade is almost over."

It was Dante's voice, but with a chilling coldness I'd never heard.

My hand froze in mid-air. A knot of dread formed in my stomach.

"Boss, you're telling me that girl never suspected a thing?" a gruff voice asked.

Dante let out a cold laugh that made my blood run cold. "Rose? She's so dumb it's almost cute. She still thinks the man holding her every night is me."

What?

My breath hitched. I peeked through the crack in the door.

"But you and Marco don't sound the same..." another man asked, confused.

"I just make up some excuse, and she buys it. Said I was drunk, or had a cold, whatever. Hahaha."

Another sharp laugh. I saw his face through the crack—a face identical to the man I loved. But the expression on it was cruel and cold, something I'd never seen before.

Marco. Dante’s twin brother.

I'd never met Marco; I only knew he existed. Dante had told me Marco handled family business in Europe and rarely came back to Chicago. Whenever I asked, he'd say they didn't get along and told me not to push it.

But what was he saying now?

"Bro, you really never touched Rose? Seriously though, she's a hell of a ride." Marco’s face twisted into a sickening grin that made me want to throw up. I had to fight to hold it down.

Dante sneered. "I'm not interested in her type. If she hadn't pissed off Isabella, I wouldn't have wasted a second on a gold-digging whore like her."

Isabella.

Hearing her name felt like a punch to the gut. Isabella Morrison, the girl who bullied me for three years straight at our private school. She was a princess of Chicago's elite; I was just a scholarship kid. She was always finding ways to humiliate me, to make me feel worthless.

So, this was all her plan.

And a gold digger? I thought about how for three years, I’d refused every expensive gift from Dante, even spending half my salary just to buy him a tie worthy of his status.

I stood at the door, a deep chill running through my body.

The conversation inside continued.

"The boss's plan is perfect. Give Rose hope, let her think she's found true love. Then, right when she's at her happiest, kick her straight to hell."

"When are you going to tell her the truth?"

Dante was silent for a long time, so long I almost thought he felt a flicker of pity for me.

Then I heard his ice-cold reply: "In a week. At our wedding."

"I'm going to make her understand what happens to women who try to climb their way into the mob. The perfect man she thinks she found, Dante Blackwood, was just an act we put on for her."

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, trying not to make a sound.

"And after that, boss?"

Dante paused. Then I heard the cruelest words of my life. "I'll dump her, and then I'm going to ask Isabella to marry me."