After She Stole My Ring, I Married the Don's Rival

In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand.

An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with.

The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa.

Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.”

Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant.

I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here.

This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke.

I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way.

“Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

The air froze.

Maximo turned slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his gold-rimmed glasses, examining her with cold indifference.

"What did you just say?"His voice carried an oppressive weight.

The crystal chandelier overhead was blinding. I looked at the face that had once captivated me, and my stomach turned.

“I said, the wedding is off.” My voice was flat. Not a single tremor.

“Pfft—”

Gia giggled, a sound like poison poured into honey.

“Oriana, don't be so petty.”

she purred, pressing against Maximo, deliberately twisting the massive diamond ring on her finger.

“Maximo only feels sorry that I had no impressive jewelry to show off at the pre-show dinner.”

“This ring can realize its greatest commercial value when worn on my hand.”

“ You’re usually so sensible, so why are you being so unreasonable at such a critical moment?”

She called him "Maximo." So naturally.

I’d never heard a woman use a word like that. Not once in five years.

"Take off the ring," I told her, my voice cold.

Gia feigned terror, tugged atMaximo's hem. "Maximo, I'm scared..."

Maximo pulled her behind him, his brow furrowed. "That's enough, Oriana!" He waved a dismissive hand. "You're being ridiculous."

He walked toward me, every step a threat.

"Gia is walking in a major show in Paris. Those connections are vital to the family's future."

“I gave her the ring for the sake of our future home.”

He stopped right in front of me, looking down at me. "And you? An art gallery owner. Who are you trying to impress with a piece like this? Your broke artist friends?"

Every word was a knife in my heart.

Five years.

Five years of hiding my true identity, paving his way from the shadows. And it meant nothing to him.

"Maximo, This is the wedding ring I’ve been waiting for six months."

“You just give it away like that? Did you even ask for