Dumped by the Don, Crowned by the Mob

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding.

He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone."

I am five months pregnant by then.

After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings.

Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan.

The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold.

The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends.

The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests.

But everything's different now.

Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home.

If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

This was the 17th wedding with my fiance, Rafael Holloway. For every one of the previous 16, he'd left me standing alone at the altar for his fragile sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan.

I walked down the aisle holding his arm when the baby in my womb gave a sharp kick.

"Our baby's been waiting for this day, too," he whispered and squeezed my hand with a smile.

When the priest began the vows, all eyes in the chapel turned toward us. That was when his phone rang with a call. It was from Natalia again.

Rafael's expression went stone-cold, and his grip tightened subconsciously.

"Don't answer it, Rafael." My eyes were locked on him.

A torn look swirled in his eyes as his thumb hovered over the decline button. Then, the call ended on its own.

I was about to breathe out in relief when the second call arrived.

"Gianna, maybe it's an emergency. She never calls this much," he muttered, trying to free his hand from my grasp.

But I held on and reminded him. "Our baby is waiting to hear his father say 'I do.'"

His eyes widened at the words, then he tore his hand free as if my touch burned him. "She's Antonio's only daughter!"

I wasn't surprised to hear that line again. Antonio Sullivan, his father's right-hand man, had died taking a bullet for him.

Before his death, his final words, "Take care of Natalia," ruined my life.

When Rafael checked his phone and read the text from the hospital, his voice cracked. "She took sleeping pills!"

"Again? Last month, she took pills too, and the nurses discovered that the bottle was never opened." I scoffed.

"Gianna!" he barked my name and shot me a deeply disappointed look. "Before Antonio died…"