Chapter 1

Three days before my wedding, my fiancé's first love returned to New York.

My future mother-in-law, Daisy Rossetti, personally came to visit me. She held my hands and reassured me.

"Don't worry, Nina. That woman is no threat to you. You're the only Donna I'll ever recognize."

My brother, Sebastian, even declared in our family group chat, "If Damian dares to pull anything, I'll be the first to make him answer for it."

My best friend, Natalie, was equally certain.

"Seriously? She thinks she can compete with you? You've been with Damian for eight years. What could she possibly have that you don't?"

Their words put my mind at ease.

Until my wedding day.

I was sitting in the bridal car, filled with excitement, when a message suddenly lit up the spare phone Natalie had left behind.

[Operation Bride Swap: SUCCESS! Our favorite couple finally got their wedding!]

My mind went blank.

With trembling fingers, I opened the group chat.

The screen was filled with videos of Damian Rossetti and Sabrina Morelli exchanging vows, exchanging rings, and celebrating their wedding in front of a crowd of cheering guests.

I scrolled up.

There were messages from Damian himself.

[I owe Sabrina a wedding. This is just to let her fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress and marrying me once.]

[Nina and I will still make our marriage official tomorrow, as planned.]

[If she makes a scene, just tell her the driver took a wrong turn. Help me smooth things over. A little sweet talk, and she'll get over it.]

Then he tagged everyone.

One familiar profile after another appeared on the screen.

Daisy: [Don't worry. Mom will cover for you.]

Sebastian: [Nina's soft-hearted. She's easy to handle.]

Natalie: [Damian is so sweet to Sabrina. I'm honestly jealous!]

So everyone had been covering for him.

And I was the only one kept in the dark.

My fingers trembled as I opened the latest video.

The camera shook slightly before focusing on the couple standing beneath a flower-covered arch.

"Give her a kiss! Come on!"

At the crowd's urging, Damian pulled Sabrina into a passionate French kiss.

The camera panned across the guests.

I recognized every single face.

Standing at the front, holding up his phone and leading the applause, was my own brother, Sebastian Sullivan.

Our parents had died in a car accident when I was eight. From that day on, we'd had only each other.

He used to pat my head and promise that I was the only family he had left, and that he'd make sure I had the most beautiful wedding imaginable, even if it cost him everything.

Yet here he was, celebrating another woman's love story with a smile.

The bridesmaid holding up Sabrina's wedding dress, wiping tears from her eyes, was Natalie Brooks, my best friend of eighteen years.

Then the camera shifted again.

Daisy sat gracefully in a carved wooden chair, smiling as she slipped a family heirloom bracelet onto Sabrina's wrist.

"My dear, you've waited long enough. You deserve this."

Only three days ago, she'd held my hands and promised that the same bracelet would be passed down to me during today's family blessing.

The video ended.

I felt as though I couldn't breathe.

I scrolled further through the chat.

Natalie: [Damian looks incredible today! Sabrina finally got her dream wedding. All that trouble keeping Nina in the dark was worth it. That lovesick fool would never understand anyway.]

Sebastian: [Damian has enough on his plate already, dealing with the wedding coverage while making time for Sabrina's ceremony. Nina is so stubborn. If she found out, she'd make a scene. Better to keep her clueless.]

Damian said nothing.

He simply dropped a $20,000 cash transfer into the group chat.

My vision blurred with tears.

A suffocating pressure tightened around my throat.

So everyone knew.

Every person I trusted had helped my fiancé deceive me.

...

The bridal convoy slowly decelerated and stopped outside The Peninsula Hotel.

The Rossetti Family had taken over the entire wedding floor.

Black SUVs lined the entrance. Men in tailored black suits stood at every access point, earpieces tucked discreetly behind their ears.

The guest list included New York's most influential families, the heads of allied organizations, senior Capos, and the Don's closest associates.

To the outside world, it was a society wedding.

To the underworld, it was the official ceremony in which Damian Rossetti would present his future Donna to the families.

The wedding was even being livestreamed.

The driver respectfully opened my door.

Cameras flashed instantly, and reporters rushed forward with microphones.

"Miss Sullivan, why hasn't Don Rossetti arrived with you?"

"Miss Sullivan! We heard Sabrina Morelli recently returned. Is the Don planning to call off the wedding?"

I kept my gaze forward, stepped out of the car, and walked into the private bridal suite.

Thirty minutes remained before the ceremony.

Damian was nowhere to be seen.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

The screen displayed two familiar words.

Sebastian.

"Nina, you've arrived at the hotel, right?"

"The lead car in our convoy broke down. Damian and I are stuck on the road."

There was a noisy commotion in the background. I could faintly hear people raising their glasses and cheering.

In any other moment during our eight years together, I would have immediately asked if they were hurt.

I would have told them not to worry about the wedding and to put their safety first.

But not this time.

"Put Damian on the phone."

Sebastian clearly hadn't expected that.

There was a brief silence before someone took the phone.

"Nina, I won't make it on time."

"Handle the guests for now. I'll come find you as soon as I finish taking care of things here."

Damian sounded as confident as ever.

Because he believed that no matter what happened, a few soothing words would be enough to make me wait for him.

But not anymore.

"Damian."

I called his name, slowly and clearly.

There was no anger in my voice. No tears. Not even the slightest tremor.

"The wedding starts in thirty minutes."

"If you're not here by then, I'll find another groom."