The Don Delayed Our Wedding Three Times, I Left

The news came that Raymond had been shot. I was seven months pregnant, but I flew straight across the country to the family's East Coast compound—and got detained the moment I stepped inside.

“Never heard of the Don having a fiancée, and pregnant no less. You've got some nerve running a con on Carraso turf.”

The barrel of a gun pressed cold against my temple. My heart was clawing its way up my throat when I caught sight of a familiar figure across the room.

“Raffina,” I shouted, “tell them I'm your brother-in-law's fiancée.”

Raffina gave a small wave of her hand, and the man holding the gun immediately bent at the waist. “Donna, I didn't know she was a friend of yours. My mistake.”

I stared with wide eyes, unable to make sense of what I was seeing.

Inside the compound, the same man crossed to where Raymond sat on the couch without a scratch on him, and gave a formal nod. “Don, she claims she's your fiancée.”

Raymond took a slow sip of his whiskey and shook his head, just barely.

They dragged me out, and on the way the man slapped me across the face, warning me not to try my con act anywhere near the family again.

I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and went straight to International Financial Tower.

The CEO of International Financial gripped my hand tightly, his eyes crinkling with delight.

“With you back on the team, I'd bet good money our numbers climb another tier this year.”

He paused, his gaze drifting to my bare ring finger, and his tone went careful.

“The Carraso family—they've signed off on this decision of yours?”

I followed his eyes down to my own left hand.

There was a faint indentation around the base of my finger, a small footnote left by the years.

Raymond had slipped that ring on three years ago.

Back then, he'd held it like a promise that would never fade.

“Delores.”

His eyes couldn't hide a thing back then; the moment my name left his lips, the tenderness just poured out of him.

“We'll get engaged first. Once the family's fully clean and legitimate, I'll marry you properly.”

His eyes had been deep as the ocean, and I'd drowned in them completely.

I'd quit my position as one of the top fifty hedge fund managers in the world to manage the Carraso family's funds full-time.

The first year, he told me his brother's death had been too brutal; the whole family was in mourning, and the wedding had to be delayed.

The second year, he told me the feds were sniffing around the eighty-million dirty pile, and getting married now would expose me.

I spent six months laundering it clean for him through dozens of offshore accounts.

After that, he poured a fortune into an estate, promising it would be our home after the wedding.

He planted roses for me in the garden, and the love in his eyes