Glass Lotus

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

I loved my stepbrother, Simon Rossi, the Don, for ten years. When he got poisoned one day, I offered myself to him and ended up pregnant. He smoked half a packet of cigarettes before saying, “I’ll take responsibility for this.” However, his first love, Camillia, claimed that she had an asthma attack on our wedding day. I begged Simon to wait until our ceremony was over before going to her. Unfortunately, Camillia escaped the hospital and died on her way to find him. Prior to her death, she called Simon 99 times. But he did not answer even once because of our wedding ceremony. When I found out, I felt terrible. Yet, Simon was exceptionally calm. After our wedding, my health deteriorated exponentially, and I bled heavily during childbirth. Just as I was about to die, I heard the doctor sigh softly. “Mr. Rossi, you’re ruthless. The poison you gave your wife has seeped into her bones. The baby can’t be saved either.” “Camillia suffered the same pain before her death.” When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the night before everything happened.

Hari peringatan pernikahan kami yang ke-10, suamiku, Franky melangkah masuk sambil merangkul pacar barunya yang ke-100. Lalu dengan tangannya sendiri melepas kalung simbol cinta kami dan memakaikannya ke leher gadis itu. Di tengah tawa para tamu, gadis itu dengan malu-malu menarik gaun yang kupakai dan berkata, “Kak, Pak Franky bilang dia ingin aku memakai gaun ini sekarang.” Gaun itu adalah hasil modifikasi dari gaun pengantinku sepuluh tahun lalu. Aku sengaja mengenakannya hari ini dan dengan bodohnya berpikir Franky akan mengingatnya. Namun, pada hari peringatan pernikahan kami, dia malah menyuruh istrinya melepaskan gaun di depan semua orang untuk pacarnya. Di tengah semua tatapan meremehkan itu, akhirnya aku memberinya senyuman tulus pertama yang kuberikan selama sepuluh tahun ini. “Franky, kita cerai saja.”

I'm hospitalized after a car accident that nearly costs me my leg. Meanwhile, my fiancé is too busy in the room next door taking care of his first love. She's only faking a sprained ankle. From that same room, I hear Johan Rivera's mocking voice. "Raelyn? She's just a pawn the old man picked for a political marriage. She's not even good enough to be your stand-in." In that moment, something in me finally breaks. I watch the news coverage of a rising business star who's surrounded by reporters and flashing cameras. He's also my childhood friend who has pursued me for ten years. I calmly send him a message. "Christian, does your offer for a contract marriage still stand?"

When I pushed through the main door, covered in blood, I found my amnesiac husband right on top of my best friend. His arm was wrapped around her waist with practiced ease, and she was passionately reciprocating his advances. "Ada will be devastated if she finds out…" Camilla said in a sweet voice through bated breaths. "After all, she really thinks you've lost your memories." Lucio chuckled softly and said in a mocking tone, "It's not my fault she loves me that much. Then again, it's a good thing for me since I can just let her do all the tough and dirty work." He leaned down and planted a kiss on Camilla's lips, mumbling, "Right now, you're the only one I recognize as my wife. Just wait. Once I sign the deal with the Della Veras, I'll have her kicked out and pass everything she owns to you. After all, I no longer remember a thing." Only then did it hit me. My husband's amnesia was all an act, a farce to fool me. Moreover, my best friend conspired with him to stab me in the back. Too bad they didn't know that the Della Vera family, the most feared Mafia family in Ritelle, only acknowledged one person: Me, Ada Rossi.

I have been hopelessly in love with Don Lorenzo Greco since the first time I saw him ten years ago. As the only daughter of the long-established Messina mafia family, I have set aside my pride and chased after him for a decade. On my 25th birthday, the way Lorenzo looks at me finally changed. He's not seeing a child anymore. He's looking at a woman. Lorenzo says yes to me, and I finally kiss the mouth I've been dreaming of all this while. The next day, Lorenzo announces to the world that he will hold the wedding of the century. 9,999 roses, fireworks all night, and a spectacle so grand it will shock every family in Northern Darvent. I stand there with tears in my eyes as the fireworks spell out another woman's name. Elena Lagioia. The assistant who has always been at Lorenzo's side, the girl I have never once taken seriously. I plan to confront Lorenzo with a gun in my hand. However, I stop outside the door when I hear him speaking to his consigliere. "Elena's parents are gambling addicts and owe a large debt. If I don't marry her, she'll be sold to a brothel in Malicuria tomorrow. Let's keep Cinzia in the dark for now. After this is over, I'll divorce Elena and marry Cinzia. After all, she loves me so dearly." On Lorenzo's wedding day, I'm wearing a wedding dress and resting in the arms of a far more powerful Don of the Argento family from Southern Darvent. I look at Lorenzo and smile. It drives him crazy. He swears to do whatever it takes to win me back.

Am Vorabend unserer siebzehnten Hochzeitsplanung schwor mir mein Mann, der Mafia-Boss, dass die Zeremonie diesmal ungestört bleiben würde. „Diesmal verspreche ich es dir, Vicky.“ Seine Stimme klang ernst. „Ich habe Klara gesagt, dass sie morgen selbst zurechtkommen muss – selbst wenn der Himmel einstürzt.“ Das Baby in meinem Bauch war bereits im fünften Monat. Lorenz und ich waren seit drei Jahren zusammen, ich war im fünften Monat schwanger, und dennoch hatte nicht eine einzige Hochzeit stattgefunden. Denn zuvor hatte er die Hochzeit bereits sechzehn Mal abgesagt. Jedes einzelne Mal wegen seiner Ziehschwester Klara. Beim ersten Mal behauptete sie, Fieber zu haben. Noch im Brautkleid wartete ich die ganze Nacht mit Lorenz im Krankenhaus – nur um festzustellen, dass sie lediglich eine leichte Erkältung hatte. Beim zweiten Mal klagte sie über Herzprobleme. Lorenz ließ mich stehen und rannte zu ihr. In Wahrheit saß sie gemütlich beim Nachmittagstee mit Freundinnen. Beim dritten Mal sagte sie, sie hätte Angst vor dem Gewitter. Mitten im Ehegelübde ließ er mich allein – vor allen Gästen. Aber diesmal war alles anders. Vor drei Tagen war ein Brief aus Nordmark angekommen. Mein Vater, der Don der Familie Delbrück, hatte persönlich eine Einladung zur Rückkehr geschickt. Wenn Lorenz mich zum siebzehnten Mal wegen Klara im Stich lässt, werde ich für immer verschwinden.

After a falling out with my long-distance boyfriend, I decide to secretly fly home to patch things up with him. Unexpectedly, I catch him fooling around at home with his secretary. "Do you need to be so mad? I only got someone to act as your stand-in. Ultimately, you're still the one I love." I listen to his preposterous lies and hide my stomach cancer diagnosis behind my back. I say, "It's not a bad idea to gather more of these fakes. You won't be too upset when I'm dead." But after I die, he loses his mind when he looks at his secretary's face.

I've been dating the country's most eligible bachelor for two years. My base salary is $2 million, with bonuses based on performance. Holding hands costs $10,000, putting an arm around his waist is $20,000, and a kiss on the lips is a bit pricier at $50,000. As for certain bedroom activities, well, those come with a whole different price tag. Brad is fair-skinned and handsome, appearing only once a month – he's practically a walking Tiffany's diamond. Life is so sweet, it's easy to get complacent if you're not careful. One night, a DM popped up on Instagram from a stranger. "If you trust me, check your boyfriend's phone." "?" "I'm his girlfriend." "Am I the third party or are you the third party?" "You're third, I'm fourth." "Let's meet and talk details."

La nuit précédant notre 17 èmes mariage, mon mari mafieux m'a promis que cette fois-ci, la cérémonie se déroulerait sans encombre. « Je te promets que tout se passera bien cette fois-ci, Vicky », sa voix était solennelle, « j'ai dit à Joanne que demain, quelle que soit l'importance de l'affaire, elle devra se débrouiller toute seule ». Le bébé dans mon ventre avait cinq mois. André et moi étions ensemble depuis trois ans, j'étais enceinte de cinq mois et la cérémonie de mariage n'a pas encore eu lieu. Car avant cela, il avait l'annulée seize fois. A chaque fois, c'était à cause de sa sœur adoptive Joanne. La première fois, elle a dit qu'elle avait de la fièvre, et je suis restée avec lui toute la nuit à l'hôpital sans changer ma robe de mariée, et j'ai découvert qu'elle n'avait qu'un léger rhume. La deuxième fois, elle a dit qu'elle avait des problèmes cardiaques, et André m'a laissée pour y aller, mais elle était en fait en train de prendre le thé avec une amie. La troisième fois, elle a dit qu'elle avait peur du tonnerre, et il m'a quittée au milieu de ses vœux, me laissant seule face à une maison pleine. Mais cette fois-ci, c'était différent. Il y a trois jours, j'ai reçu une lettre du nord de l'Italie, qui était une invitation à revenir de la part de mon père, l'ancien parrain de la famille Durant, lui-même. S'il partait pour Joanne pour la dix-septième fois, je serais partie pour de bon.