The Don’s Broken Vow

Thud!

It was a heavy, dull sound, followed by the sickening crack of bone hitting a hard surface.

My waist slammed violently against the edge of the club’s solid marble bar.

In that instant, a jagged flash of pain shot through my spine like a dozen steel needles, paralyzing my entire body.

I slid clumsily down the side of the bar, collapsing onto the floor.

One hand clawed at the ground, my fingernails scraping against the marble with a piercing screech.

But the man who had once sworn to take a bullet for me didn't even look back.

Dante was cradling Sophia with a level of care I’d never seen.

His face was a mask of terror and raw anxiety—emotions he had never once shown for me.

"Hang on, Sophia! I’ve got you!"

Dante’s voice was trembling. He rushed toward the exit, his leather shoes thudding frantically against the floor.

Just before reaching the door, he seemed to remember I existed.

He paused for a fraction of a second, but he didn't even turn his head.

"Wait for me to get back and explain this to you, Elena!"

I lay there on the freezing floor, watching his silhouette run for another woman, and let out a low, self-mocking laugh.

When I finally woke up, it was the dead of night.

The private hospital wing of the Moretti family was deserted, save for the monotonous, cold beep of the heart monitor.

The bruise on my waist throbbed with a white-hot pain.

I tried to shift my weight, but the agony made me gasp, and tears started streaming down my face involuntarily.

My phone vibrated on the pillow. It was a video from Sophia.

In the footage, the Moretti family’s private luxury suite was bathed in warm light.

Dante’s mother—the Dowager who had always treated me with such polished respect—was now hovering over Sophia’s bed, fussing over her.

The old woman held Sophia’s hand, her face lit up with a massive smile.

"Good girl, you need to rest for the baby. This is the first grandson of the Moretti family; he carries Dante’s blood.

"As for that Elena... once the wedding broadcast is over, I’ll have Dante announce she’s 'retreating for her health.'

"Then we’ll ship her off to the old house in Sicily and lock her away. She’ll never cross your sight again."

Sophia leaned shyly into Dante’s chest, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Mother, Dante is so good to me."

The camera panned. Dante was sitting by the bed.

His long fingers were toying with a massive, breathtaking sapphire—the Star of the Abyss.

In that moment, I felt my heart stop beating entirely.

Six months ago, in order to help him secure his grip on Eastern Europe, I had infiltrated the black markets of Prague alone.

I was nearly blown to pieces in a hail of gunfire just to retrieve that raw stone.

I had planned to give it to him at the wedding, set into his scepter, as a symbol of "Eternal Protection and Loyalty."

"The color of this stone is top-tier Caucasian blue."

Dante stroked the blue diamond gently, but his eyes looked hollow, as if he were looking through the gem at someone else.

He whispered to Sophia, "I’ll have them turn it into a necklace. A baptism gift for the baby."

I shut the video off and hurled my phone against the wall with everything I had.

But what he didn't know was that I had already carved a tiny, hidden groove into the base of that blue diamond.

Dante Moretti, you knew exactly what that stone meant to me.

You knew I almost died in the snow of a foreign land to get it for you.

And yet, just to soothe your mistress and bury your cheap guilt, you gave it away like it was nothing.

Fine.

On the wedding day, I’ll give you exactly what you want. I'll give you your "happily ever after."