Dumped by My Ex, Married to The Don

Three years ago, at the very wedding I had meticulously prepared, my fiancé, Vito Rossi, turned the ceremony into a stage to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Isabella.

　　When I dared to confront him, he didn't offer an apology. Instead, he threw me into a subterranean dungeon. Whippings, starvation, and systematic humiliation—I nearly drew my last breath in that living hell.

　　Eventually, I chose to let them go. I walked away and married the man who sits at the absolute peak of the underworld—Lorenzo De Santis, the Godfather of the De Santis family.

　　Three years later, at the San Antonio Docks.

　　I accompanied Lorenzo for a business negotiation, but a sudden matter forced him to step away, leaving his men to receive me. I never expected to run into Vito after three years of silence.

　　Vito and his now-fiancée humiliated me in front of the crowd, even accusing me of being a spy and threatening to arrest me.

　　I turned my gaze toward my husband, who had just arrived—the man who rules the entire Mafia world. I lifted my chin and looked at him.

　　"Lorenzo," I said, my voice steady and clear. "This maniac wants to throw your wife into a dungeon again. How do you intend to handle this?"

Saint Antonio Pier should have been buzzing today.

With the legendary, mysterious Don Lorenzo de Santis due to arrive, the entire Rossi family was on edge.

"No outsiders! Get lost!"

Marco, the gate supervisor, shoved me aside roughly.

I lost my balance completely and stumbled backward, crashing into someone's solid chest.

"Sorry, I—"

"Vito Rossi?"

I turned to apologize, then froze the second I saw who it was.

Seeing me, Vito Rossi's eyes flashed with surprise, but he quickly masked it.

He frowned slightly and stepped back, cold.

Marco caught his expression and went pale.

"Mr... Mr. Rossi!"

"Don't be angry, sir. There's some woman here causing trouble. I bet she figured out someone important was coming today. Probably trying to get inside to seduce you, or maybe crawl straight into your bed! I'll get rid of her right now!"

He waved his baton at me threateningly.

Vito's face darkened. He raised a hand to stop him. "Enough."

I was a little surprised.

Vito let out a cold laugh and looked at me.

"Three years. Cecilia, I thought after you left me you'd make something of yourself. Turns out you're here staging some reunion stunt? If you walked away without a word back then, why come back now? Begging for my pity? Or begging me to take you back?"

In that instant, every memory from three years ago came flooding back.

Vito Rossi used to be my fiancé.

Because of some bullshit betrayal charge, he locked me in a moldy dungeon.

Hunger. Whip marks. Guards humiliating me.

While Vito danced with socialites upstairs in the ballroom, I was curled up in damp straw, trying to count my own ribs just to stay alive—that time taught me one thing for sure: