He Chose Another, Now He Calls Me Madre
I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia's heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn't like the other rule-abiding debutantes. She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat. There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn't look away from. Then, on Lorenzo's birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused. "The women of my family are wives, never mistresses. And my husband's heart must belong only to me." Lorenzo came to me, begging me to give up my title. As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead pierced my finger. A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.