The Ex-Fiancé You Can't Afford To Lose

I stood in the ballroom with a diamond ring in my pocket, waiting to be crowned King of the empire I had built from the ground up.

Instead, the woman I loved walked to the microphone and signed my death warrant with a smile.

Serena didn't announce our engagement.

She announced that Luca Moretti—an incompetent associate I'd almost fired three times—was the new Underboss and her partner in life.

Then, she kissed him. Deep and possessive, right in front of the entire Commission.

My heart didn't break; it simply stopped.

Luca smirked at me, wearing a suit that was too tight, while Serena looked at me with cold, dead eyes.

"Dante is the old guard," she told the crowd, dismissing me like a waiter. "We are moving in a new direction."

They stripped me of my title. They humiliated me on live television. They thought they had taken my crown.

But they forgot one crucial detail.

I was the Architect.

I had built the encrypted logistics system that kept the FBI in the dark. A system that required my specific biometric code every morning to function.

I didn't make a scene. I didn't scream. I simply placed the ring on a waiter's tray and walked out into the night.

Forty-eight hours later, the Vitiello empire was in a freefall. The accounts were frozen. The shipments were flagged.

My phone buzzed. It was Serena.

"Dante," she panicked, her voice trembling. "Fix it. Now."

I took a sip of my espresso and smiled at the chaos on the news.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Serena. You fired the only pilot who knows how to fly the plane."

Chapter 1

Dante POV

I stood at the periphery of the ballroom, clutching a diamond that cost more than my first apartment, waiting to be crowned King, when the woman I had built an empire for walked to the microphone and signed my death warrant with a smile.

The champagne in my flute had gone tepid.

That should have been my first clue.

Tonight was supposed to be the coronation. The Vitiello family was shedding its skin, going legitimate. We were launching the IPO that would wash our blood money clean, turning generations of violence into generational wealth.

I was the Architect.

I had constructed the laundering systems, the encrypted logistics, and the network of senators on retainer that kept the FBI in the dark.

I was the Underboss.

And tonight, Serena Vitiello, the Donna, was supposed to announce our engagement.

The spotlight hit her. She looked like a vision in red silk, the kind of beauty that made men start wars. I had killed for her. I had cleaned up the messes her father left behind. I had kept her hands clean while mine were stained permanently red.

"Dante," she had whispered to me only this morning. "Tonight, we rule together."

I touched the velvet box in my tuxedo pocket.

"Thank you all for joining us," Serena said, her voice amplified across the