Seven Videos From the Grave Ruined Their Wedding

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey.

No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts.

Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne.

Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead."

On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name.

After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families.

But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered.

When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

As a bodyguard presented the gift box, a wave of scoffs rippled through the guests. "Didn't he get kicked out of the Russos? The nerve of that stray dog, trying to crash the party."

"Shameless bastard. Trying to ruin the young Don's wedding day!"

My spirit hovered in the air, my gaze fixed on the gift.

I was already dead. How could I possibly send a gift?

Vivienne lowered her eyes. I couldn't read her expression.

I thought she would defend Julian as she had countless times before, but instead, she just said coldly, "Open it."

Whispers broke out in the crowd. "She must want to see what sick game he's playing, after he cheated on her so shamelessly."

Julian tried to stop her, but Vivienne firmly brushed his hand away and snapped the lid open.

Inside lay an old, blood-stained phone. I recognized it. It was mine.

There was nothing else on it, just seven videos.

The guests exchanged glances as malicious whispers swelled around them. "Is it a video of him on his knees begging? Hahaha..."

"You think he's trying to use his pathetic state to make Vivienne feel sorry for him?"

"Nothing surprising. Cassius used to be the Russos' cleaner. He's rotten to the core; there's nothing he wouldn't do."

Being dead, the words didn't sting like they used to. All I felt was a strange curiosity.

How did my phone end up here?

My adoptive mother, Carmela, stepped forward urgently, trying to snatch the phone. "This is outrageous! What the hell is Cassius playing at? It's Julian's wedding day, and he's deliberately trying to ruin it!"

"What an ungrateful piece of trash. Even his gift is cursed!"

My adoptive father, Don Carlo, was even more direct. He grabbed the phone, ready to smash it to pieces. "Throw it away! Don't let his filth taint this wedding!"

I smiled bitterly to myself. They didn't seem to know I was dead.

Or rather, the moment they threw me into The Abyss, I was already dead to them.

Just as the phone was about to hit the ground, Vivienne suddenly raised her gun, aiming the barrel at the dead center of Carlo's forehead. Frowning at my adoptive parents, she commanded: "I said, watch."

My adoptive parents froze. The guests froze.

The next second, she unlocked the phone and tapped the first video.

The screen showed the day Julian first returned to the estate.

He was wearing thin, worn-out clothes, standing there looking lost, his eyes red.

I reached out to pat his shoulder, but before I could even touch him, he clutched his chest and collapsed, sobbing and begging, "Cassius! I know you don't want me back! I'm begging you! Please stop hitting me!"

Carmela rushed in upon hearing the noise and slapped me hard across the face. "You hit Julian?! How could you be so vicious!"

The slap knocked me to the floor, my phone dropping with me. "Mamma, I swear I didn't!"

But Carmela wouldn't listen. She pointed a trembling finger at my face. "Remember this: you are just an adopted son. You're nothing but a stray we took in. Know your place, and don't you dare covet what belongs to Julian!"

Before the video even finished, my adoptive parents panicked and shouted to the crowd, "We investigated it! Cassius secretly sent men to beat and threaten Julian to keep him out of the Family! We didn't accuse him blindly!"

The video continued.

On screen, I shakily picked up the phone. My eyes were red, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the tears fall, and said firmly, "I really didn't do it."

Then the camera panned across my pale face, revealing several horrifying knife scars on my wrists.

In the audience, a rival boss silenced his men with a sharp glance, his eyes fixed on my wrists. "What's the story with those scars on Cassius's wrists?"