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Betrayed by the Godfather,Reborn as the Supreme Heiress

Betrayed by the Godfather,Reborn as the Supreme Heiress

By:  AlessablackCompleted
Language: English
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My best friend, Mia Collinson, was complaining to me yet again about how rough and relentless her fiancé was in bed. I half-listened, absentmindedly wiping down the custom Browning pistol my husband, Darien Allerton, had recently given me. A few years back, as the ruthless head of the Allerton family, Darien had been ambushed by a rival crew during a shootout. They'd injected him with a hallucinogenic aphrodisiac, leaving him with psychological trauma that made him incapable of being intimate with women. Still, for the past five years, he had treated me like a queen. He gave me Sicilian estates, garages packed with bulletproof supercars, and rare pink diamonds paid for in blood. Even when an ocean separated us, he would fight through the jet lag and the brutality of his daily life to show up at my safe house in the middle of the night, holding me tight while he slept. I thought it was proof of his unwavering devotion in our chaotic world. Up until the day of Mia's massive mafia wedding. I'd brought her a ten-carat blue diamond as a gift, hoping to surprise her. But the second I pushed open the door to the church dressing room, my smile vanished. The man inside wasn't the groom. It was Darien.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He stood with his back to the mirror, buttoning up his tailored suit.

I couldn't mistake him for anyone else—not with the black onyx signet ring on his finger, the one marking him as the head of the family.

Cory asked, our mutual friend and the family's advisor.

His voice was a harsh whisper.

"Darien, have you lost your mind?"

"You and Mia are taking your vows today."

"If Laurel finds out back home, she is not going to let this go."

Darien paused on his tie for a fraction of a second.

A flash of deep, suppressed pain crossed his usually ruthless eyes, but his voice was ice.

"Cut off all communication with her country and block the flight routes."

"As long as I keep my mouth shut, she stays my wife inside the safe zone I built for her."

Cory pressed.

"And how are you going to explain this to her?"

"Your five-year marriage—"

Darien cut in, dropping his gaze.

His tone was restrained, but brutal.

"Isn't legally binding."

"My marriage certificate with Laurel is a fake."

"If the family elders find out her true background, they'll reject her."

"That forged piece of paper is the only thing keeping her alive."

Out in the hall, I leaned back against the cold stone wall and dug my nails into my palms.

I didn't cry.

I calmly wiped the blood from my fingertips.

A forged marriage certificate.

He hadn't kept me in a controlled, safe environment for the last five years out of some undying loyalty.

He'd fed me lies to keep me shut out of his inner circle of power.

Darien's voice drifted through the crack in the door, suddenly sounding tired and hoarse.

"When I was drugged back then, I accidentally slept with Mia, and she had my son."

"The Allerton family cannot leave its only heir unprotected outside the family, and we can't let him carry the stigma of being an illegitimate child."

I tossed the blue diamond ring into a nearby trash can, my expression turning to ice.

In the mafia, bloodlines and business will always trump love.

A sharp, physical pain seized my chest.

I was about to walk away when I heard Cory ask.

"Then what about Laurel?"

Darien scoffed.

"I found out the truth."

"Mia is the real heir to the Bendall family."

"Laurel is the daughter of a human trafficker, swapped out by our enemies years ago."

"If I didn't still care about our history, do you think I'd have risked a war between our two families to hide this for so long?"

"The only thing I feel for her now is an obligation to keep her safe."

The words shocked my system, wiping out whatever lingering affection I had left for him.

The daughter of a human trafficker.

A stolen life.

I turned away from the cathedral.

Behind me, the heavy bells tolled, sealing the priest's final pronouncement of their marriage.

Years ago, at our own wedding, Darien's father had swapped out the bride for political gain.

Darien had put a gun to his own father's head and crossed the globe, bleeding heavily, to get me back.

Today had all the same trappings: the million-dollar bulletproof motorcade, the same Gothic church.

Only this time, to secure his leadership and his bloodline, he was the one cutting me out of his life.

The encrypted phone in my pocket buzzed.

It was a final warning from my mother, Natalie Bendall.

"Laurel, hand over the family crest."

"Mia is my biological daughter, and she wants you to go back to the slums where your real parents live."

I stared at the screen, my face deadpan.

Then, I quietly loaded my gun.

Since this syndicate respects nothing but survival, I didn't mind showing them what I'd learned over the last five years.

I leaned back against a carved stone pillar in the shadows, locking a cold, hard stare on the altar.

Darien slid the diamond ring—the mark of the godfather's wife—onto Mia's finger.

Catching sight of me in his periphery, he froze.

Leaving Mia with his bodyguards, he strode down the steps and yanked me into an empty confessional booth.

He said, his tall frame blocking my exit.

He was trying to bury the storm of emotions in his dark eyes.

"Laurel, don't get the wrong idea."

"The council wants to trade Mia to the Russian godfather, and you know how brutal he is."

"I married her to stop the Russians from expanding, and to protect—"

I cut in, slicing through his rehearsed bullshit about mafia politics.

"To protect your kid, right?"

Watching him protect Mia in public made the last five years feel like a sick joke.

All those nights he had refused to lay a hand on me, claiming he was working through his trauma.

I didn't break down crying.

I looked up at him, calm.

"Darien, all those nights you couldn't bear to touch me... was it the trauma?"

"Or were you already sleeping with her, and I was in the way?"

Darien's eyes went wide, his jaw clenching.

He reached out to touch my face.

"Laurel, I—"

"Bitch!"

"Don't touch my dad!"

A four-year-old boy burst through the door and shoved me backward.

I stumbled on a loose bullet casing left on the floor.

I pitched back, my head cracking against the sharp edge of the stained-glass windowsill, and warm blood streamed down my face.

Instinct made Darien reach out to catch me.

But when the boy hit the floor crying, Darien froze mid-reach.

He pulled the kid into his arms instead.

He looked up at the blood dripping down my face, torn, yet his voice was serious.

"Laurel, drop the attitude."

"He's a child."

That sentence made his priorities clear.

I wiped the blood from my brow, pulled out the encrypted phone, and texted Natalie back.

"Understood."

"I'll surrender all territories and arsenal passwords within a week, and remove myself from the syndicate."
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