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My Revenge Against My Fiancé Began at Our Wedding Novel Cover

My Revenge Against My Fiancé Began at Our Wedding

On the day two powerful Families are set to unite, a high-society wedding fractures over an unforgivable slight. To ensure her daughter is the ultimate bride, a mother paid a fortune to secure a coveted makeup artist. Yet, hours before the ceremony, the groom, Lorenzo, secretly redirects the artist to style his sister instead. Dismissed and told to manage on her own, the bride realizes her seven years of devotion mean nothing to her billionaire fiancé, sparking a quiet resolve for vengeance.
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Chapter 3

The word that the bridal artist was on her way lifted the whole room.

My mother smoothed the creases in her deep red gown, drew herself up with the poise of a Don's wife, and began reworking the arrangements.

"Adriana waits for Ottavia. Francesca, Bianca, bear with me a little. I'll have two others brought in right now to see to the rest of us."

Francesca stepped in at once.

"Don't trouble yourself, Valentina. We're easy. It's Adriana's day. We'll keep it looking the way it should."

Bianca gave my shoulder a quiet, comforting squeeze.

My father said nothing. He only closed his fists and looked at me with such pain that the tears started spilling down my face again.

He'd named me Adriana, held me like something precious for twenty-seven years, and never once let me so much as bend to pick up a fallen glass.

When the old capos teased him, a man of the Vitale name giving his only daughter such a soft, unguarded name in a world that ran on fear, he only smiled.

"What do any of you know. I want every man at every table to hear the name and understand at once: my daughter is my most treasured girl, my little principessa."

But the little principessa he'd cherished for twenty-seven years, who had never once been wronged, was wronged to the fullest on her alliance day, at the hands of the man who was meant to become her husband.

And for the sake of his daughter's honor before the Families, he could not tear it all down in this moment and make the disgrace worse. He could only grind his jaw and hold his silence.

The clock on the mantel ticked on, each stroke loud in a room that had learned to hold its breath. Another dozen-odd minutes slid past, and the black night began to pale at its edges.

My mother pulled every string in the territory and rushed in two artists to begin on the others.

The frozen air in the room finally began to loosen.

Lorenzo called again.

One of the older women there to see the bride off teased,

"Answer it, quick. He's calling to make amends. Maybe Ottavia's near."

"You two, be sweet with each other. It's a joyful day. Settle it kindly."

I twisted my mouth, and yet I still picked up with a flicker of hope.

"Tesoro, don't be angry, just hear me out. There's truly no way Ottavia can reach you in time now, so why not let her do Gemma's mother while she's close by? It lends our union a little class too."

"I've already reached out to another artist near your place to head over. That's faster. Let's not hold up the union."

It was a bucket of cold water straight over my head. My ears rang, and I nearly missed what he'd said.

The talk in the room cut off in an instant. Every hand stopped mid-motion. Even the soldier at the door went still.

Francesca and Bianca stepped in at once, one on each side, steadying my back.

My voice came out hoarse.

"Lorenzo, do you even want to marry me?"

He pressed his impatience down.

"Tesoro, of course I do. It's only an artist, anyone can do the work. Be reasonable. I only want this settled fast."

I raised my voice.

"Even now, you still think this is about an artist?"

"This is my honor! They're grinding me into the dirt! My own union, the artist my family secured a full year ahead at our own tribute, and instead of touching the bride she's sent by you to some nobody adopted daughter and that adopted daughter's mother! Who exactly are you marrying?"

"Seven years together. Everything you asked me to give up, I gave up. But my own union. Do you want me to hand that over to someone else too?"

Hearing me scream it out like something torn from my chest,

for a moment Lorenzo wavered.

Then he remembered what his mother had put in his ear.

"A marriage is the east wind bearing down on the west or the west bearing down on the east! The Vitale name is old and rich. If you don't get a grip on her early, you're the one who'll bleed for it down the line!"

He hardened his heart.

"There's less than two hours until the bride is called for! You don't want our union turning into a joke before every Family, do you?"

"Stop making a scene. Just make do and get yourself ready. Once the union's done, whatever you want in repayment, I'll agree to it!"

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