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Betrayed by the Don, Claimed by the King Novel Cover

Betrayed by the Don, Claimed by the King

Bella Gallo thought she found love with Lucas Moretti, the Don of New York. However, her world shatters during her baby's blessing when she discovers a live-streamed wedding. Her father is marrying his mistress, while Lucas is wedded to Bella’s half-sister. Betrayed for her family shares and dismissed as too ambitious, Bella is left alone and pregnant. Amidst the heartbreak, a cryptic proposal from the rival Russo family offers her a dangerous path to reclaim her child’s future.
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Chapter 2

"Don't you worry, Miss Gallo. Your mother's trust is completely separate from the Gallo family estate. It has the highest level of legal protection. In seven days, you will officially inherit everything. Mr. Lorenzo and his… new wife, won't be able to touch a dime."

The lawyer's words were the only good news I'd had in days.

I hung up and curled up on the sofa. My mind flashed back to when my mother died. I had locked myself in my room for days until Lucas broke through like a ray of light. He talked to me gently, used sex to let me burn off the grief, and when I was so desperate I put a gun to my own head, he lunged and knocked it away.

He just smiled through the pain of a gunshot wound in his shoulder. "Protecting you is my mission," he’d said.

Looking back now, it was all just a trap.

My phone lit up. A message from Sofia.

It was a picture of her and Lucas’s marriage certificate. Their smiles were blinding.

Next was a video. It was dark and shaky. All I could make out was Lucas, seemingly passed out drunk on a sofa, with Sofia whispering in his ear.

The video was blurry, but the voice note she sent after was crystal clear:

"Listen, sister. Hear that? Lucas is saying my name… He says fucking you is like a chore, stiff and boring. But with me? I’m the only one who can make him feel truly wild."

Sofia's triumphant laugh echoed in the recording, followed by the sound of a soft, intimate moan.

"Oh, and by the way," she added, "he told me that after watching you bully me all those years ago, he swore he'd grind you under his heel one day. And now, he has."

Bile rose in my throat. I stumbled to the bathroom and heaved until I was empty.

Lucas came in and saw the mess I was. His face filled with worry as he held me.

"What's wrong, Bella? Still feeling sick?" he cooed, rubbing my back. "I'll go get you your favorite candy."

He actually left. He came back with a bag from my favorite candy shop, a good thirty-minute drive away. He didn't even send one of his men.

Lucas unwrapped the candies one by one and fed them to me, his eyes full of devotion.

"Taking care of you and our baby… this is true happiness."

Such a good actor. If I hadn't heard those words myself, I might have believed him again.

"Are you hiding anything from me, Lucas?"

He saved my life once. For that alone, I'd give him one chance to come clean.

"Of course not," Lucas said, looking shocked. He pinched my nose playfully. "I swear, I've never hidden anything from you. I love you, sweetheart."

I didn't say another word.

That night, he lay beside me as usual, his hand resting gently on my stomach.

In the middle of the night, I woke up with a jolt, just like always.

Ever since my mother died, I’ve had nightmares about finding her in the bathtub, the water stained crimson.

Lucas’s eyes were still closed, but his body reacted instantly. He pulled me close, his hand stroking my back. "I'm here," he whispered. "Don't be afraid. It's okay…"

His tenderness felt like a blade twisting in my chest. How could a man who seemed to love me this much betray me so completely?

I pretended to be soothed, my breathing evening out. Half an hour later, he slipped out of bed, grabbed his phone, and tiptoed out of the room.

I opened my eyes, my gaze like ice.

I knew where he was going. He couldn't wait to be with his new wife.

I looked at the last picture Sofia had sent me.

On Lucas’s shoulder, where a white rose tattoo—a symbol for me, meant to cover the scar from the bullet he took for me—used to be.

The white rose was gone. Scrawled over it, raw and crude, was the name "Sofia."

That last, fragile piece of hope I was clinging to shattered.

I found the number from the mysterious text message.

My fingers typed out a simple reply and hit send.

"I'll marry you."

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