The Don’s Veiled Rose

After hanging up, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window and watched the scene below.

A black, armored car drifted around the street corner.

The shriek of its tires on the pavement was piercing even through the double-paned glass.

Even I, a professional racer, couldn't match that kind of speed. It was clear how much a single tear from Gianna meant to him.

I let out a bitter laugh, too drained to even cry.

I met up with a few girlfriends for shopping, manicures, and finally, a trip to Manhattan's most exclusive underground jazz club.

Dim lights, a sultry saxophone, and a glass of potent bourbon in my hand.

My friend fidgeted beside me, nervously glancing toward the door.

"Scarlett, are you insane? The Don explicitly forbade you from coming here. If the Thorne family finds out..."

I tilted my head back and downed the amber liquid in one go.

The burn of it seared a path down my throat and into my stomach, but it couldn't warm a heart that was already frozen solid.

"It doesn't matter." I slammed the empty glass down on the marble tabletop. "I'm ending things with him."

The words had barely left my lips when the club's mellow jazz music screeched to a halt.

Black-suited Soldati moved in, quickly and systematically clearing the room. Even my friends were politely but firmly escorted out.

In an instant, the vast space felt unnervingly empty.

Heels clicked on the floor, announcing an arrival. The crowd of men parted, and a woman in a black velvet gown glided toward me.

Madre Elena.

Daemon's mother, the most traditional guardian of the Thorne family.

Her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, pinning me in place.

"Scarlett Thorne." She spoke my full name, her tone dripping with disgust.

"You disgrace the Thorne name!"

"As the Donna, instead of considering how to serve this family, you're here, dragging our name through the mud with these degenerates."

She stopped in front of me, looking down her nose at me.

"And to think you are a princess of the Vaughn family. So spoiled and willful. You're not fit to touch a single strand of Gianna's hair."

A cold laugh echoed in my mind. So this was the real reason Daemon married me.

To make me the perfect prop to highlight Gianna's purity and nobility.

I, Scarlett Vaughn, was the most dazzling star on New York's racetracks, the wild mare countless men wanted to tame.

But in the eyes of Daemon and his mother, I was nothing more than a disposable shield.

The alcohol surged through me, and I was done being patient.

I lifted my head to meet her gaze and said, word by word, "Get Daemon down here."

Elena's face went pale with rage, the crucifix on her chest rising and falling violently.

"Incorrigible! I see you're drunk and need to be taught a lesson!"

She waved a hand at the bodyguards behind her. "Take her to the family chapel."

"Make her kneel before the Virgin Mary and repent until she understands what it means to be a Thorne!"

"And don't forget to sober her up."

The next second, bodyguards seized me without another word.

I struggled, but they dragged me out and threw me into the fountain in the club's back courtyard.

On an early spring night, the water was bone-chillingly cold.

I choked, swallowing mouthfuls of fountain water as I desperately clawed my way out.

But as soon as I gripped the edge of the fountain, I was pushed back under.

The freezing water soaked through my evening gown, completely ruining my makeup.

When they finally dragged me out of the pool, I was a drenched, shivering, and pathetic mess.

Then they roughly shoved me into a black car and drove straight to the family chapel.

I was forced to kneel on the hard stone floor, my wet clothes clinging to my skin, a searing pain shooting through my knees.

I screamed myself hoarse, "You have no right to do this to me! I want to see Daemon!"

Seeing this, Madre Elena laughed with fury and picked up her phone to make a call.

Two seconds later, a familiar voice boomed from the speakerphone, echoing in the empty chapel.

"What trouble are you causing now? Stop upsetting my mother."

"Do what she tells you. Those are the rules of the Thorne family."

This was the man I had loved for two years. And in the depths of despair, a different kind of courage is born: the courage of having nothing left to lose.

I screamed into the phone with all my might, "Daemon! You listen to me..."

"I'm preg—"