Chapter 4
“I won’t marry a traitor.”
“Then Bianca will marry him,” the patriarch said calmly. “She’s a Rossi daughter, too.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Perhaps Bianca is a better fit for the Falcone family,” my father said. “She’s more docile. Obedient.”
“And,” the old Don added, his voice like ice, “Bianca is… whole. She can give the Falcone family a healthy heir.”
I sat bolt upright in the bed, rage burning through me.
“Are you kidding me? She slept with my fiancé!”
“So what?” my father sneered. “At least she has discretion. She didn’t throw a tantrum and lose a child because of it.”
“So this is my fault?”
“It is what it is,” the patriarch said, standing up. “Nico has chosen Bianca. We will honor his choice.”
I looked at Nico, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
He just sat there, silent, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Nico…” I whispered his name one last time.
“Aurora,” he finally said, his voice flat and empty. “Maybe this is for the best.”
In that moment, my world ended.
Three days later, I was discharged.
I didn’t go home. I went straight to the Hamptons.
I doused the entire house in gasoline.
Then I lit a match.
The flames shot into the sky, burning every memory to ash.
By the time the fire department arrived, the house was a ruin.
Two days after that, the family officially disowned me.
My bank accounts were frozen. My credit cards canceled.
The official story was that Nico and Bianca were the intended match all along.
And me? I was a ghost.
The day I left New York, I saw the headline on a newspaper.
Falcone Heir to Wed Rossi Heiress in Perfect Match of Power and Prestige.
The photo was of Nico and Bianca, smiling at each other.
Like I never existed.
The memory faded.
I was back in the ballroom, facing Nico’s furious face.
“You want me to apologize?” I asked softly.
“Now,” he growled.
I looked at him, and all I felt was a dead, empty space where my heart used to be.
This man. He was my fiancé once.
Now, he was nothing.
I turned my back on him and walked toward the most important table in the entire ballroom.
In the deepest part of the hall, there was one table set apart from the rest. Black tablecloth, silver settings, no flowers, no fuss.
But everyone knew what that table meant.
It was Lucas Moretti’s table.
The Don of New York. The most feared man in the city. The true ruler of the Five Families.
I walked straight for it.
Behind me, Bianca’s shrill laugh cut through the silence.
“Aurora, darling!” Her voice was pure venom. “Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea whose table that is?”
I didn’t stop.
“That’s Don Moretti’s throne!” she shrieked, making sure everyone could hear. “Touching it is a death sentence!”
A nervous murmur went through the crowd.
“My god, she’s lost her mind…”
“What is she doing?”
“That’s suicide…”
I reached the table and looked at the empty chair. A high-backed throne of black leather, carved with an ancient family crest.
Then, I sat down.
The entire ballroom went completely silent.
Everyone stared at me like I was a madwoman.
“Aurora!” Nico’s roar echoed through the hall. “Are you insane?!”
He stormed toward me, his face a mask of fury.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” His voice was a raw mix of terror and rage. “You’re going to get us all killed! The entire Rossi family!”
I leaned back in the chair and looked at him calmly.
“Get up!” He reached for me. “Get up right now!”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you don’t belong there!” He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the chair.
He used too much force.
I lost my balance and fell, hard. My knee cracked against the marble floor with a sickening thud.
Pain shot up my leg.
I heard a sharp intake of breath from the crowd.
But no one moved to help me.
“Nico!” Bianca cried out in fake shock. “You were too rough!”
But I saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes.
I pushed myself up, my knee screaming in protest.
“Enough.” I brushed the dust from my pants and looked up at Nico.
This time, I was furious.
I met his terrified eyes, my voice like ice. “You want to know why I can sit here?”
I tilted my head. “Because this is my table.”
Nico froze.
“I came with my fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” Bianca’s laugh was a hysterical shriek. “Oh, Aurora, you’re delusional! Who would possibly want you—”
“Then why don’t you ask him?” I cut her off.
I looked past Nico, to the tall figure moving slowly toward us from the entrance.
“My fiancé is here.”
I looked back at Nico.
“Don’t believe me?” I looked past him, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
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