The Second Chance for A Mafia's Runaway Bride

“I’m not some damsel,” I hissed at Matteo and left. I don’t trust him, he’s working under Corvino’s organization.

“Where are you going?” He followed as I walked back to the Elysian Manor premises. “Back to humiliation?”

“None of your business.” I continued walking and looking for the driver assigned to me.

“Going back to Lorenzo’s villa?” He continued following me. “I could bring you there.”

“I can manage.”

“But I must be the one to bring you home. I am the assigned driver and bodyguard of yours, Signora Vitale, from tonight to your grand wedding.”

“What?!” I scowled. Disregard the sarcasm in his tone by saying ‘grand’ in my wedding. I was surprised that Lorenzo assigned him to me, Matteo—the most ruthless among Corvino’s people.

“Consider yourself lucky.” Matteo grabbed my arm and pulled me to follow him in his Cayenne.

I didn’t utter any words and thought of the reason why he was assigned to me by Lorenzo. Maybe my dear Lorenzo wants me to be dead before the wedding. Maybe he wants himself to be clean if I was out before the wedding.

“Here are we,” Matteo informed me as I was busy planning my way out discreetly.

“Okay,” I opened the passenger’s door and walked to the villa.

Inside, my mind wavered between anger and disbelief. If Stefania was out of the picture, I will still convince myself it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe Lorenzo had been trying to protect me in some twisted way. Maybe he deserved another chance.

I got inside the villa that Lorenzo gifted me three months ago. This will be our home once we get married. And from the time he gave me the keys, for three months, I was busy in interior decoration of this house, making it suitable for my soon-to-be husband’s lavish taste.

As I climbed the stairs, something caught my eye. Through a slightly open door, I saw two figures in my bridal chamber. The room that was supposed to be ours—Lorenzo and I.

But there they were. Lorenzo and Stefania. Making out.

I breathed in so deeply. Painfully.

They were standing, his arms around her, kissing her passionately. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. Hands trembling, I pulled out my phone and accessed the surveillance footage. I needed to know. I must have my evidence.

My world shattered as I was staring at their faces closely devouring each other. Everything I had believed in—his love, his loyalty, our future—was a lie.

Lorenzo’s voice dripped with regret as he spoke next after leaving Stefania’s lips. “I regret proposing to Aletta. But since you’re here, I’m willing to call off the wedding.”

The words slammed into me like a freight train. I snickered. “As if I wasn’t thinking that too, Lorenzo…” I whispered.

The sharp sting in my feet brought me back to reality. I looked down and saw my high heels soaked in blood. These were the heels Lorenzo had given me as an engagement gift. I loved them, even though they were too small. I had worn them tonight, hoping to endure their discomfort as a symbol of our love. Now, after the long journey back, they had left my feet covered in blisters—a painful reminder of the sacrifices I’d made. Sacrifices that gain only pain.

I slipped them off without hesitation and tossed them into the trash. Shoes that didn’t fit, no matter how beautiful, weren’t worth keeping. And a man that didn’t love me, no matter how much I adored him before, was no longer worth fighting for.

Yes. Lorenzo Corvino was no longer mine to hold onto. The man I’d loved for over a decade had made his choice, and it wasn’t me.

But I wasn’t about to let him or Stefania walk away unscathed. They both used me. Both enjoyed my humiliation.

And the wedding, the one I had poured my heart into. The one that had been my labor of love. Every detail was meticulously planned, a reflection of everything I had envisioned for our future. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting it become a gift for those two.

Instead, I would use it to expose their betrayal. On the wedding day, I’d deliver a surprise they’d never forget. I’d take what power I had left and wield it like a blade.

I forced myself to appear unaffected, even though my hands shook as I reached for my phone. The surveillance footage continued playing before me. Good!

And I thanked myself for placing a surveillance camera in that room three nights ago. It was supposed to monitor my ‘beloved’ Lorenzo's reaction to the interior design I had done there, but now the purpose changed, it was for me to watch him and my filthy half-sister even though I wanna puke instead.

Lorenzo lay Stefania on the bed, her expression a blend of smugness and faux vulnerability. Lorenzo, the same Lorenzo who had berated me for losing control at our engagement party, was on top of her, caressing her bare legs that she lifted to expose from the slit of her evening gown.

“If I didn’t return,” Stefania said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She kicked playfully at Lorenzo, her movements lazy but calculated. “Are you really going to marry Aletta?”

Lorenzo didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he caught her foot in his hands, massaging it gently. The sight made my blood run cold.

Stefania chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied smile. “You don’t need to answer. I already know. Everything you’ve done has been to push me away, just so you could bring me back.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, laced with faux sweetness. “All these years, you’ve never truly let go. This bridal chamber, decorated just the way I like it, the wedding ring you chose, even those high heels Aletta wore—all of it was for me.”

My hands tightened around my phone, the plastic case creaking under the pressure.

Stefania’s foot pressed against Lorenzo’s chest, and she laughed softly. “Tell me, Lorenzo. The one you’ve truly loved all along is me.”

Lorenzo didn’t confirm it, but he went on top of Stefania again and kissed her again. It wasn’t a fleeting kiss. It was slow, deliberate, filled with longing. It was a kiss that slapped me more of the reality of how useful I was for their love story.

Tears streamed down my face, unchecked and relentless. I thought of the eight years we’d spent together. The moments I’d tried to kiss him, how he’d always turn away, shy and reserved. I’d convinced myself it was his modesty, his quiet nature. I’d never imagined that all his passion, all his love, had been reserved for someone else.

For Stefania Volante.

My nails dug into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me in the present. I had to get out of here. My heart felt like it was being shredded, and staying any longer would only prolong the agony.

I stumbled to the roadside, my vision blurred by tears. My hand shot out to hail a cab, desperate to escape. But before I could get in, a sharp voice cut through the night.

“Aletta!”