My Mafia Fiancé Chose His Childhood Sweetheart Over Me, But I Am the Principessa
Two cars waited outside the estate gate, one black sedan arranged by Giovanni, the other a Rolls-Royce.
Without hesitation, I walked straight toward the Rolls-Royce.
Meanwhile, at the underground auction.
Carina was excitedly bidding on items, raising her paddle again and again.
Giovanni, however, remained distracted. He glanced down at his phone.
The chat window still showed his last message. Bianca hadn't replied.
For some reason, a vague sense of unease crept into his chest. Had she made it to the church yet? Was she angry about skipping the traditional pickup ceremony today?