My Fiancé Faked His Death, So I Married The Don

The sky outside was dark, threatening a storm.

I was weighing her offer. If I went to my own place, Leo and Nico would find me and I didn’t want the hassle.

My screen lit up again.

An unknown number.

For the last five years, whenever I was out late, sick, or on a stormy night like this, a short text would arrive from this number.

I always assumed it was spam or some creep.

Heavy rain in Manhattan tonight. Stay dry.

The message was blunt, cold, yet strangely all-knowing.

Just as I was about to delete it, the comments in front of my eyes went insane.

【Don't delete it! Girl, no! That's him! The male lead!】

【OMG, Marcello Falcone has been cyber-stalking his crush for five years? That's kinda sweet, in a psycho way.】

【That's the real main character! The one who goes to war with the entire world for you!】

【Save the number! Label it 'Hubby'! NOW!】

My finger froze over the screen.

Marcello Falcone?

The cold-blooded Don of the Falcone family, the man with blood on his hands? The man the other families feared like the plague?

He was the one sending me weather reports for three years?

A thrilling, absurd feeling crawled up my spine.

I hesitated, then just turned off the screen and drove to the address Sofia had sent.

The elevator doors opened into a world of minimalist black, white, and grey.

The air smelled faintly of cedar and tobacco—Marcello Falcone’s scent. It was aggressive, predatory, but for some reason, it made me relax.

I took off the diamond ring on my finger. Raphael had given it to me when he proposed. I’d cried my eyes out, even though the ring wasn’t particularly impressive.

But now—

I pulled it off without a second thought and tossed it, along with its promise of “eternal love,” into the trash.

It made a small, satisfying clink.

Sofia must have been really worried about me, because she didn’t just drag me to a bar, she brought distractions.

I stared at the four men lined up in front of me, each one a model ripped from a magazine cover. I was not amused.

“I figured my brother wasn’t your type,” Sofia mumbled, “so maybe one of these guys is? They’re all better than Raphael Russo, anyway.”

One was rugged, another was preppy. All of them had plastered-on smiles.

“Ms. Cecilia, we’re all yours tonight,” a blond one said, reaching for my hand.

I stepped back, avoiding his touch.

“Sofia, I don’t need this.”

The old Cecilia might have played along just to spite Raphael.

But I wasn’t going to do anything stupid because of him. Not anymore.

Sofia looked surprised—she’d never seen me so firm—but she quickly waved the men away. “Okay, okay, you’re the queen. But we are getting drunk! No leaving sober!”

As the models filed out of our private room, Leo, lurking in a corner, snapped a photo with his phone and sent it to Raphael.

A second later, his phone rang.

Raphael’s voice was raw with fury, tight enough you could practically hear the veins popping in his forehead. “She threw out my things, fine, but now she dares to—”

“Raphael, what’s wrong?” Chloe’s sweet voice cooed in the background. “Oh my, couldn’t Cecilia wait? You’ve only been ‘dead’ for two days and she’s already with four other men… You really can’t judge a book by its cover.”

Raphael was silent for a moment, then his tone shifted, becoming smug and confident.

“She’s just testing me.”

“What?” Leo asked carefully.

“She’s lashing out,” Raphael said, a smile back in his voice. I could picture him leaning back in his lounge chair, a conceited smirk on his face. “Throwing out my things, hiring escorts… it’s how she’s dealing with the pain. She’s trying to see if she can be with anyone else now that I’m gone. And obviously, she can’t. She sent them all away, didn’t she?”

“But Boss, she seemed really angry. And she wasn’t wearing the engagement ring…”

“It’s because she loves me so much it turned to hate,” Raphael cut him off, his voice certain. “You don’t understand Cecilia. She can’t let me go. The crazier she acts now, the more it proves she loves me.”

“Leo, just keep an eye on her. Don’t let any other guys touch her.”

Raphael took a sip of his drink, his voice lazy and cruel.

“She’s getting a taste of life without me. When I ‘come back’ in three months, she’ll understand just how precious I am. And then…”

He paused.

“She’ll cling to me like a scared little puppy, and she’ll never let go.”