He Bet on My Heartbreak, I Married the Mafia Don

I watched Jax take the keys to that car from his friend.

And it hit me.

Today was just another bet. Another chance to watch me make a fool of myself.

The ones who lost the bet shot me dirty looks after they were done laughing.

“Clara, you have any idea I lost five grand on you? You really think that desperate, broke-ass look is good enough for a wedding dress?”

“We told you a thousand times, Jax is out of your league. You really think a guy from his circle would marry you?”

“Hasn’t he screwed you over like, ten times? You’re like a stray dog with no pride. If Jax spit on the ground, you’d probably lick it clean.”

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. My nails dug into my palms.

Jax pocketed the keys and walked over. He pinched the back of my neck, his go-to move. Like calming down a fussy pet. His voice was fake-pity.

“What’s wrong, Clara? Upset again? You know I hate it when you cry.”

He turned to his friends. “Hey, you assholes. It’s Clara’s birthday. Don’t be mean to the birthday girl.”

For a second, I thought he’d grown a conscience.

Then he pulled a crumpled bill from his wallet and shoved it into my hand.

He grinned. “Thanks for helping me win the car, Clara. Here’s twenty bucks. Go get an iced Americano from the Starbucks on the corner. Snap out of your delusions. Be good. Think of it as my birthday gift.”

They all laughed again.

“You’re too nice, Jax! Careful she doesn’t go full psycho-stalker on you. She’ll be camping outside your apartment building.”

“Didn’t you see the dress? She’s trying to lock him down. Thinks if she hangs on long enough, Jax will take pity on her and finally propose!”

The old me would have been sobbing by now. Begging Jax to have a heart, to stop hurting me.

But this time, I took the twenty dollars from his hand.

“Thanks. The marriage license at Cook County is sixty bucks. This can be your contribution.”

Jax froze. His brow twitched. Then he burst out laughing.

“Clara, have you completely lost it? Still thinking about marrying me?”

“Can’t you take a hint? I was messing with you. Even if you can’t live without me, you need to know your place. Aren’t we good just like this?”

“I’ve seen people with no self-respect, but you take the cake. Stop throwing a tantrum. It doesn’t work on me.”

He shook his head, disgusted. So sure I’d never leave him.

I thought I was prepared. But his words were like arrows, piercing what was left of my heart.

I already knew about the bet.

He’d called me last night.

His voice was unusually gentle. “Clara. City Hall, 9 AM tomorrow. I have a big birthday surprise for you.”

“Oh, and dress up. Wear that wedding dress you designed. And bring your ID. See you there.”

After he hung up, my heart pounded.

I had just posted about my final project, a collection of wedding dress designs.

Did he see it? Did he decide to marry me?

But a few minutes later, someone sent me a video.

In it, Jax was showing my post to his friends.

“What the hell is this?”

Someone immediately chimed in. “So desperate. She’s probably freaking out because she’s graduating with no job. Trying to trap Jax into buying a ring.”

“I bet she’s just jealous Jax has a new girlfriend. Posting this crap for attention.”

Jax’s new girlfriend was Chloe.

A true blue-blood from Chicago’s high society. Jax treated her like a princess.

Jax stared at my photo on the screen. For a moment, his expression was complicated. Then he just shook his head. “God, desperate women are impossible to get rid of. But what can I say? Her world revolves around me.”

“Tell you what. I’ll make a bet with you guys. One phone call, and I guarantee she’ll show up at City Hall tomorrow in that wedding dress. Wanna see a clown in a wedding gown?”

Someone laughed. “What happens if you lose, Jax? Make Chloe do a dance for us?”

The laughter died before it started. Jax’s fist slammed into the guy’s face. Blood gushed from his nose.

Jax’s face was dark. A beast whose territory had been invaded. “You want to die? Is that it? Who the hell do you think you are, saying Chloe’s name?”

Chloe was his princess. Off-limits. Not even a joke.

And I was the clown in his bet. Something to be trampled on.

The video ended. My heart ached.

Tears fell onto my phone screen, blurring the image of his laughing face.

I wiped my eyes. Wiped the screen. I stared at his face.

This was the boy I’d loved for ten years. My childhood friend.

He knew exactly how much I loved him.

Which meant he knew exactly how to hurt me the most.

He’d forgotten his promise. The one he made when we were young.

“Clara, if you’re not married by thirty, I’ll marry you.”

Today, I turn thirty.

And I’m getting married.

I just didn’t tell Jax he wasn't the groom.