After She Walked Away, The Mafia Boss Regretted It
At the Moretti family banquet, Don Cesare Moretti won a two-person package to a private island resort.
The host asked with a teasing grin, "Don Moretti, who are you taking with you?"
Every pair of eyes in the room turned to me.
The crowd began chanting my name, their voices rising with gleeful anticipation.
"Adriana! Adriana!"
My heart hammered against my ribs. I smiled at Cesare, hope blooming warm in my chest.
But Cesare didn't even glance my way. His gaze had drifted past me, settling on his secretary sitting near the front.
His voice was casual, almost indulgent. "Give it to her. The girl's been working late lately. She deserves a break."
His secretary's face went scarlet.
Those soldiers paused for just a beat—then someone shouted, "The Don is so thoughtful," and the laughter swelled again, smoothing over the moment.
My best friend Bianca leaned in, whispering through clenched teeth, "We planned to get married together on the island this year. How could he forget something like that?"
I smiled and forced back the tears. Then I reached over and straightened her collar.
"Don't worry. The plan stays. The wedding happens."
Then I called my father and said yes to the family arrangement.
I would marry the Don of the Romanov family—Cesare's biggest rival.
If Cesare didn't want to marry me, that was fine. I'd just find myself another groom.