Married to the Don? No, Thanks

Leander's expression softened a little at Ryan's words. The murmurs around them faded away.

Ryan glanced at the large cake nearby and asked, "Don Beaumont, is this party for me? Can I cut the cake with you?"

He'd been looking forward to this day for so long. Even if he couldn't call Leander "Papà", just being with him would be enough.

Just then, Dinah—decked out in heavy makeup and a revealing red gown—sidled up to Leander, slipping her arm through his.

"I'm afraid not, darling. Tonight's engagement party is a private event, and I don't believe outsiders are invited."

She didn't even glance at Ryan, speaking only to Leander.

It finally sank in—Dinah had planned everything today. She was the one who sent the message that lured Ryan and me here.

Public humiliation wasn't her only goal. She also wanted to corner Leander into calling us outsiders in front of everyone.

Dinah wasn't the only one with her eyes on Leander. I stepped forward, shielding Ryan, and met Leander's eyes. My voice was low. "Is that true? Do you really see Ryan and me as outsiders, Leander?"

The commotion attracted more people, including Marcella and the Fowlers' current capo.

Leander went pale. Marcella coughed pointedly behind him. At last, he dropped his head and muttered, "You're right. They're outsiders."

Dinah laughed smugly, lifting her chin like she'd just won a battle.

The crowd turned on Ryan and me, accusing us of ruining what had been a joyful celebration. Some recognized me and muttered that I was trying to seduce Leander again with the same old tricks.

Ryan stood frozen, trembling under the weight of their taunts.

Rage surged through me. I stormed up to the champagne tower and yanked a glass from the bottom. Behind me, the tower teetered, then crashed, sending shards of glass skittering across the floor as guests screamed.

Golden champagne drenched half of Dinah's hair.

I raised my champagne glass to Leander and said, "Since this is such a joyful occasion, here's to a lifetime of happiness."

With that, I downed the glass in one gulp and let it shatter at my feet. I grabbed Ryan's hand, turned, and walked away without looking back.

Ryan had stopped trembling, his eyes shining up at me like I was a hero. "Mamma, you're amazing!"

I smiled and scooped him into my arms, making sure Leander could hear me as I said, "From now on, Ryan is mine alone. He has no father—"

Before I could finish, two soldati stepped into my way.

How could I forget? In a mafia family, honor was sacred, and challenging it, especially at the Beaumont-Fowler engagement party, was unforgivable.

"Jenny, is this what the Bellinis call manners? Apologize, now!"

Dinah's shrill voice sliced through the air.

I pulled Ryan behind me and met Dinah's stare without flinching. I didn't care about their so-called manners. All I knew was that a Bellini would never yield.

"Apologize now, or I swear you won't leave here alive. The Fowlers will go to war with the Bellinis over this!"

My gaze flicked to Leander in the distance. Conflict twisted his face, but he stayed silent.

A bitter laugh slipped out as I remembered him blushing when we danced seven years ago; how he'd offered me a sapphire necklace when he proposed five years later; how three years ago, he'd sworn he'd rise as don and make me his only wife.

His face was already starting to fade from my mind.

For years, the Bellini family had been the most powerful mafia family in Eastrael, though we'd always remained under the radar. Papà would've already swallowed up these Westrael families if not for the fact that I was Leander's fiancée.

I couldn't help but smirk in disbelief as Dinah tried to threaten me with her family's name. "The failing Fowlers sent you to throw yourself at two successive Beaumont dons just to stay afloat.

"You're nothing but a lowly soldato's daughter from a branch family of the Fowlers. Do you really think they'd risk war with the Bellinis over you?"

I coolly laid out Dinah's predicament, watching her face twist with rage. "How dare you insult the Fowlers! Someone, get her out of here!"

Several soldati moved toward us, but Ryan stepped forward, positioning himself between me and them as he addressed Leander. "Papà… No, I mean, Don Beaumont, please don't let them hurt Mamma."

"Stop!" Leander barked.

His gaze snapped to Ryan, surprised. Ryan seemed to have matured in an instant.

Before Leander could respond, Ryan stepped back, his eyes downcast, and said flatly, "Since we're not welcome here, Mamma and I are leaving. Thanks for inviting us."

Ryan took my hand, and we turned to leave. I held on to him like he was the only thing that mattered to me.

The day before we were supposed to leave, Leander still hadn't returned. His only message said, "Don't be angry. I'll see you both soon."

I knew what kept him—wedding plans and cementing his place as don.

When the day came, I packed our bags, carried everything Ryan and I owned into the garden, and set it ablaze. Hand in hand with Ryan, I left and boarded the plane.

Before turning off my phone, I sent Leander one last message. "I'll step aside if this is what you want. Ryan and I are leaving. I hope you find happiness."