Too Sexy for the Don

"What did you just say?"

Enzo Vitale thought he had misheard something. Those gray-blue eyes of his locked onto me, sharp and disbelieving.

I saw that reaction coming.

Every time he talked about calling off our engagement, I would be the one clinging to him, crying and begging for one more shot. I would swear to fix myself and be whatever version of me he wanted.

But not today. I was done. I had no desire left to keep dragging my dignity through the mud for his sake.

I met Enzo's gaze and repeated carefully. "I said, I'm good with calling off the engagement."

A rare flicker of confusion appeared on his face, though his voice soon hardened with authority. "Rossella, who taught you to talk to me like that? All those etiquette lessons this past year—where'd they go?"

Maybe I had finally gotten my head straight, I didn't bite my tongue this time.

"Doesn't matter what I do. It's never good enough for you, anyway," I argued. "So, go find yourself a woman who is."

I paused, then added, "Besides, we're not even married yet. It's just an engagement. It's not like you've ever liked me anyway. I thought you'd be the first to pop a bottle about our separation."

Honestly, I believed I had given more respect than this situation deserved. If it weren't meant to be, I would walk away and end things amicably. That was how it should've been done.

But Enzo clearly disagreed. His face went dark, his chest heaving with fury. "I always thought you just lacked manners and breeding. I thought, with the right mentore, you could turn out like Bellamy, who's gentle and obedient."

His voice dropped, edged with displeasure. "Yet now, you've learned to talk back. Worse, you're trying to strong-arm me with this engagement."

I laughed coldly. Wasn't he the one who brought it up first? I simply agreed, but somehow, that turned into me talking back and twisting his arm.

I swept my cold gaze across his face. "If Bellamy's so perfect, by all means, marry her."

Bellamy Costa was the Consigliere's daughter. Ever since she moved into the Vitale estate, Enzo had been holding her up like a gold standard, constantly measuring me against her every chance he got.

She was soft-spoken, graceful, everything he thought a Don's wife should be.

Meanwhile, I never made the cut in his eyes, no matter how hard I tried. If he wasn't giving me attitude, he was picking me apart. Even those mentore—etiquette tutors—he forced on me was Bellamy's idea.

The truth was, I never wanted any of it.

Something I said must've hit a nerve because Enzo snapped, "Rossella, do you even hear yourself? From today on, you're confined for a week! You will not step out of this estate without my say-so.

"If that mentore can't fix you, I'll bring in another. And I don't want to hear talk like that again. Next time, I won't be this reasonable."

It was the first time I had ever seen Enzo lose it like that. He was known for being composed, the kind of man who remained unrattled, even in the face of assassinations or betrayals.

Once, I used to love those traits about him. That cool, restrained air of his made it seem like nothing in this world could shake him. Yet when it came to me, he always found fault.

Every look, every smile, the way I sat, the way I walked… All of it was wrong in his eyes. Truthfully, it got under my skin.

It wasn't my fault I was born with a figure men stared at, all curves in the right places, with a face people remembered. To him, they were sins—things to tear down, to belittle, to grind into dust until I doubted myself.

For a while, I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. All I saw was someone ugly, something wrong. I would hide out in my room, dodging people as much as I could.

Once, Enzo's tie got worn out. I bought him a new one, only for him to twist it into something calculated. He said I was trying to seduce him. In the end, he tore into me like I deserved the worst punishment in the world.

This past year, every time I saw him, I was on edge. One wrong move or word, and he would be on me again. I was sick of living like that.

I would gladly step down from being his wife if it meant I would be happy again.

Enzo was still boiling over. He went off on me for a while longer before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

That night, Papa came to see me.

His face was heavy with worry. He paced the study back and forth, as if something was gnawing at him. "Rossella, do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He lowered his voice. "You know how much weight the Vitale family carries in Cicaro. You pull out of this engagement on your own, they're not just going to let it slide!"

"Then, what am I supposed to do, Papa?" I shot back. "You want me to keep putting up with it?"

Papa stayed quiet for a long time before letting out a tired sigh. "No, that's not what I meant. You're my daughter, Rossella. I care about you. But you must give me some time. Let me talk to the Vitale family and settle this clean.

"If you don't want this marriage, we'll call it off. But we'll need to line up another family, another alliance."

I nodded. Papa didn't usually interfere much in my life, but when it truly mattered, he still supported me in what I wanted.

Then, out of nowhere, someone came to mind.

A year ago, I had met the Madre of the Scarela family, Teresa Colombo, once. She had taken a liking to me right away, repeatedly emphasizing that she wanted me as her daughter-in-law.

Back then, I turned her down every time. But things were different now, weren't they?

Teresa was kind, and she genuinely liked me. If she raised a son, chances were his taste and hobbies wouldn't be all that bad either.

Honestly, I was done playing this endless game of endurance and humiliation just because of some arranged alliance. If I were going to be traded into a marriage anyway, I might as well just switch out Enzo.