My Don Chose The Dancer Over His Bleeding Fiancé
Colter Giordano, my fiancé of six years, heir to the Giordano family, took a bullet for a dancer named Mia.
He didn't take one for me.
A bullet tore through my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my dress, hot and sticky.
But my heart hurt worse.
He asked if I was okay. Just once.
Then he rushed Mia to the hospital, leaving me bleeding on the floor.
The next day, Mia's picture popped up on my Instagram feed.
There she was, in a luxury hospital suite. Colter was fussing over a scratch on her arm that was barely there.
The caption was just two words: "My Hero."
I liked the post.
Then I made an encrypted call.
"The Falcone family's offer," I said. "I'm taking it. Get me on a plane to Sicily. Three days."