Carrying the Don's Child,My Ex-Fiancé Begs on His Knees

I had lived two lives. In both, I followed Dominic Valenti into quiet exile after he stepped back from the family's operations, living in some forgotten corner of the territory, wanting nothing from the world. And in both, his adopted sister clawed her way into the Montecarlo estate and dragged us down with her. Our home was raided. Our family, executed to the last. It always started the same way. She would show up at our door, mascara streaking her cheeks, sobbing that the Don had cast her aside, that he'd chosen another woman as his wife. Dominic would set down whatever he was holding and exhale through his teeth. "You know I can't stand watching you cry." Then he'd pull his old pistol from the lockbox and follow her back to Aurelia. It took dying twice for me to understand. All that talk of sibling devotion. Every word of it was a lie.

——

Dominic Valenti was returning to Aurelia in triumph, and every eligible girl in the old borough had rushed to the gates of the social club to welcome him home.

I was the only one walking the other way.

My little sister Giulietta tugged at my sleeve. "Serafina, aren't we going to meet him?"

I should have been. In both my previous lives, that was exactly what I'd done.

The script never changed.

I congratulated him on his victory.

He proposed in front of the entire neighborhood.

We married, we grew old together, we never parted.

It took a third life to see the truth: I'd given my heart to the wrong man.

I tightened my grip on Giulietta's hand. "We're going home."

The crowd pressed in from every side, the air thick with exhaust and cigarette smoke and the stench of too many bodies. Each breath felt like swallowing stones.

Giulietta pointed at my hair. "But you got up before dawn to do your hair. Wasn't that for him?"

"Did he make you angry? Is that why you won't let him see your pretty hairdo?"

I had no answer for that.

I reached up and pulled the sprig of orange blossom from my hair.

Placed it in my palm and crushed it, slowly, between my fingers.

Once, a bright-eyed boy had tucked an orange blossom behind my ear on the steps of his family's church.

He made me promise to wear one when I came to welcome him home from whatever war the family sent him to fight.

And so for ten years, I, who never cared for anything flashy or ornate, always pinned the freshest orange blossom I could find before going to see him.

I stood beside him through his glory days, his tailored suits and black sedans, his meteoric rise through the Valenti ranks.

And my reward was a bullet in the dark and a family in the ground.

This life, I intended to live differently.

I walked faster.

Giulietta rose on her toes and hurried to keep up.

Behind us, the crowd erupted.

The low growl of an engine hammered closer, louder, vibrating through the pavement beneath my feet.

"Serafina!"

A man's voice split the air beside my ear.

My feet stopped. My body turned, stiff as a board.

Dominic Valenti stood tall beside the open door of his black armored SUV, his charcoal suit cut like a weapon, a signet ring catching the light on his right hand. Sharp brows, striking eyes. He was so handsome it almost hurt to look at him.

"Not going to congratulate me on my victory?"

He watched me, expectation written across his face.

Every girl in the crowd turned to stare at me, green with envy.

Once, I would have basked in those looks.

Savored the certainty that I was the only one in Dominic Valenti's heart.

Until I saw with my own eyes what he did for Carmela Valenti.

Then I understood. All that devotion he'd shown me was nothing but a screen to hide the feelings he could never let the world see.

My voice came out flat. "The line of people waiting to congratulate you stretches from one end of Aurelia to the other, Dominic. You won't miss me."

His brow furrowed. "Three years apart, Serafina, and this is what you have to say to me?"

I let my gaze drift across his face, calm as still water. "Oh, one more thing. When you find the time, send our betrothal contract back to the Corsetti family."

Dominic froze.

He stepped away from the vehicle and nearly stumbled on the curb.

"What is that supposed to mean? Explain yourself."

I had no interest in explaining anything to him.

The only thought in my head was to get as far from here as possible.

Girls swarmed around Dominic, closing in like a tide. Two of his soldiers shifted uncomfortably, hands drifting toward their waistbands, unsure whether to hold the crowd or hold their boss together.

I seized the chance and slipped away with Giulietta.

She squeezed my palm. "You don't want him anymore, Serafina?"

"Everyone says he's the one who held the southern corridor. They're all fighting over him!"

"Why doesn't my sister want the great hero?"

I didn't know how to explain it to her.

Probably because when a great hero decides to betray you, he does it more ruthlessly than anyone else.

He doesn't just crush your heart.