All Chapters of Sold To The Ruthless Mafia Don: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Rue’s POV“What?” I breathe, the word slipping out before I can stop it, genuine surprise cutting through the rage.“She’s not my mistress,” Alessandro says, stopping just a few feet from me. His voice is steady, unwavering. “You said it like it was fact. It’s not.”I stare at him, still clutching my anger like a shield, because hope is far more dangerous. “You expect me to believe that? After everything I saw? After Italy?”His jaw tightens, but his tone doesn’t shift. “We weren’t together in Italy.”I let out a scoff, sharp and bitter. “She was there, Alessandro.”“Yes,” he says, without flinching. “She followed.”My brows knit, suspicion battling confusion.“She flew out after I did. Stayed in the same city. I didn’t see her once while I was there. Not intentionally. Not accidentally. Nothing.”I open my mouth to argue, to demand something that’ll make sense of the mess, but the words don’t come. Finally, I manage, “But she made it look like. . .”“She wants you to think we were,”

RUEA knock comes first, then the door creaks open before I can even respond.“Rue?” Claire’s voice is chipper, too chipper for this hour.I groan softly, eyes squinting against the sunlight pouring through the curtains.Claire’s already halfway in the room before I can react. “Oh. Ohh… wow.”I sit up quickly, blanket yanked to my chest. Her eyes widen with mock scandal.“Well, well, well,” she says, grinning. “Look who decided to show up for her wedding thoroughly... exercised.”“Claire,” I mutter, my voice hoarse with sleep and embarrassment.She looks pointedly at the messy sheets, my bare shoulders, then around the room. “Where’s Lover Boy?”“Gone,” I mutter, glancing toward the door.Claire walks in, hands on her hips, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Snuck out early, huh? Probably didn’t want to risk me catching him with bed hair. Smart man.”I sink further under the covers.She laughs. “Rue, you're blushing. I haven’t seen you blush since you tripped in front of the priest durin

RUE The stairs feel longer this morning. My feet are bare against the polished wood, and there’s a lingering ache in my legs from the heels and the hours of standing yesterday. I pull Alessandro’s hoodie tighter around me and make my way toward the breakfast room. Halfway down the stairs, I hear footsteps, fast and light. Then Claire appears around the corner with her phone in her hand and that familiar mischievous grin stretched across her face. “There she is,” she says, pointing at me like I’ve just been summoned by the press. “Mrs. Vanilli, the icon herself.” I blink at her. “You okay?” She practically jogs up the last few steps to meet me and grabs my wrist. “Rue, you’re all over the internet. I mean, I thought there’d be backlash. I expected it. But they love you. Like, full-on worshipping you.” “What?” I ask, half-laughing, half-suspicious. “For the dress?” “For the whole damn thing.” She waves her phone in my face, screen filled with headlines. “‘A Blue-Blooded Bride for

RUE By the time we get back, my arms are sore and I’m ready to collapse, but Claire insists on helping me “style the closet” with all the new clothes. Which really just means she lounges on my bed while I do the arranging. I’m hanging up a navy midi dress when she suddenly says, “So… there’s this party tonight.” I glance over my shoulder. “Okay?” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “I was invited, but I don’t know if I feel like going alone.” “When is it?” “This night.” I pause mid-hanger. “You’re just saying this now?” She shrugs. “It slipped my mind during our retail therapy. So? Will you come with me?” I hesitate, but the look on her face is already victorious. “Fine,” I sigh. Claire jumps up like she just won the lottery. “Perfect. But there’s no way you’re wearing any of those boring outfits tonight.” I give her a look. “I just bought these.” “Exactly. And they’re for school. Not for a night of music, lights, and questionable decisions. Come to my room. I’

RUEIt feels like there's a drummer banging his drumsticks on the walls of my cranium. I touch my head gently, as I squeeze myself into a ball on the bed.God… I hate headaches, and this is ten times worse than it usually is.I let out a slow groan as I touch my forehead.My stomach gurgles loudly, and I let out an even louder groan. I hate myself right now.“You're awake,” Alessandro's voice runs through the room.My senses heighten. I immediately roll around to find him standing by his bedside stand.He’s placing his million dollars worth of wristwatch on his wrist.“Good morning…” I slur out, watching him.I scan his face, and then my heart beat accelerates.The events of the previous night flushes through my head. The bright lights. Sofie. Claire disappears into the crowd. The dancing bodies. Luka.I scrutinize Alessandro's face. Could Luka have told him anything? I wouldn't doubt it. His loyalty to his boss was unmatched.I keep staring at my husband, trying to tell if he's offen