My Ex-Fiancé Came Back for My House, I Pulled a Gun

Richard blinked. "Freya, what's that supposed to mean?"

A moment later, he seemed to figure it out.

"Of course. I made you wait three years. You must've had a hard time. No wonder you're saying this just to get back at me."

I pulled out my phone and texted the bodyguards waiting at the edge of the neighborhood, telling them to come over right away.

Then I looked back at him. "Richard, are you deaf? I said I'm married."

Richard just chuckled, clearly not believing a word.

"Baby, you've been with me since you were 20. That's ten years of your youth. What man would want a thirty-year-old hag who knows nothing but housework? I have a company now and a big client lined up."

He pointed at the for-sale sign out front.

"You're selling the house your parents left you. Who else do you have to lean on but me? Stop being difficult."

The smug look on his face made me wonder how I'd ever been stupid enough to love him.

Back then, I was the youngest daughter of the Marchettis, the most powerful mafia family in the country. But more than anything, I'd wanted an ordinary life.

My father, Don Lorenzo Marchetti, had always spoiled me.

After college, he let me get a job and live on my own.

His only condition was that two bodyguards keep an eye on me from a distance.

My first job was as an intern working under Richard.

He was the one who confessed his feelings for me.

He swore he'd start his company one day and give me a life of luxury.

I was touched, but I didn't dare tell him who I really was. Instead, I lied and told him I was an orphan with a large inheritance.

I felt guilty for lying to him. So when one of his mistakes cost the company a lot of money, I stepped in.

I covered the loss myself. Later, when he asked to move in with me, I said yes.

I did what he asked, quit my job, and made my whole life revolve around him.

My bodyguards couldn't stand watching it. They warned me again and again that Richard wasn't worth it.

Of course, they also reported everything to my father.

But I was convinced Richard was the love of my life. I begged my father again and again to stay out of our relationship.

I even got into a huge fight with him for looking down on Richard.

And how did Richard repay me? He betrayed me on the day we were supposed to get engaged.

One of our old coworkers showed up at my door carrying a baby.

That was when I learned the truth. After I'd quit, Richard had started sleeping with his new assistant, Sonia.

I went home heartbroken. Once my father found out what Richard had done, he buried the entire scandal.

Otherwise, I would have become the laughingstock of the Marchetti family and every other mafia family in the country.

Just thinking about it made my blood run cold.

I touched the small pistol in my pocket. "Richard, I have no interest in digging up the past. But if you keep harassing me, you'll regret it."

Before Richard could respond, a stylish woman with bright red lipstick walked over.

She quickly stepped between us, looking nervous.

"It's been a long time, Freya."

As soon as Sonia spoke, tears filled her eyes.

"I loved him so much that I couldn't stop myself from getting involved with him.

"He only took me abroad because I could actually help him. You'd already quit your job.

"If you really can't stand having me around, I can go."

She lowered her head, looking every bit the innocent victim.

Richard had just come home successful and full of himself. There was no way he was going to stand there and let Sonia be humiliated.

He pulled her behind him and gave me a patient look, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

"Sonia has apologized. Just forgive her. I'll make it up to you. I'll give you the comfortable life you want."

Unbelievably shameless. I gave him a cold smile.

"Richard, don't tell me your company is short of money again. You came back looking for me because you want this house, didn't you?"

My house was in one of the best neighborhoods in the city and worth three million dollars.

Richard froze. Before he could come up with an answer, my sister, Millie Marchetti, hurried over with Noah in her arms. She had come with me to help look after him.

She looked worried. "Frey, Noah's burning up again."

My two-year-old son, Noah Corvino, had already been sick before we came. He'd seen me getting ready to leave and refused to stay behind.

I wanted to keep him close, so I'd brought him along. We hadn't been out long, but his fever was already back.

"Let me take a look at him."

I quickly took him from Millie's arms, but before I could even check his temperature, Richard snatched him away.

He stared at Noah for a second, then burst out laughing.

"This has to be my son. Look at those eyebrows. Exactly like mine."