
The Don Delayed Our Wedding Three Times, I LeftThe news came that Raymond had been shot. I was seven months pregnant, but I flew straight across the country to the family's East Coast compound—and got detained the moment I stepped inside.
“Never heard of the Don having a fiancée, and pregnant no less. You've got some nerve running a con on Carraso turf.”
The barrel of a gun pressed cold against my temple. My heart was clawing its way up my throat when I caught sight of a familiar figure across the room.
“Raffina,” I shouted, “tell them I'm your brother-in-law's fiancée.”
Raffina gave a small wave of her hand, and the man holding the gun immediately bent at the waist. “Donna, I didn't know she was a friend of yours. My mistake.”
I stared with wide eyes, unable to make sense of what I was seeing.
Inside the compound, the same man crossed to where Raymond sat on the couch without a scratch on him, and gave a formal nod. “Don, she claims she's your fiancée.”
Raymond took a slow sip of his whiskey and shook his head, just barely.
They dragged me out, and on the way the man slapped me across the face, warning me not to try my con act anywhere near the family again.
I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and went straight to International Financial Tower.