Choosing The Groom in Shadows

For the seventh time, my fiancé, Marco Grimaldi, had vanished from our wedding, chasing after his "sister," Bianca. Now, Don Grimaldi himself, flanked by his men, sat on the leather sofa in my family's living room.

The air was thick with cigar smoke. They promised to concede the South Side arms route, three custom-built armored sedans, and nine percent of the profits from the docks as compensation, on top of what was originally offered.

However, on the other end of the line, Marco scoffed into the phone.

He chuckled. "Papa, you really think she's worth all that? I could win back more than her family's dowry with a single roll of the dice in Vegas, believe me."

"Instead of wasting those assets on her, why not give them to me? I could invest them in a brand-new start for Bianca in Vegas."

Salvatore Grimaldi abruptly ended the call, then looked at me with an expression that was a mixture of shame and fury.

Suppressed snickers pricked the air, sharp as needles. Everyone was waiting for me to swallow this humiliation silently for the sake of the family alliance, just as I had the previous six times.

But this time—

I had already received this kind of "compensation" six times. Nausea churned in my stomach.

And I felt the same way about Marco himself.

I thought for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, my gaze sweeping past the hypocritical faces to land on the shadowed figure in the corner, who had been silent and ignored by everyone.

A slow smile curled my lips.

I looked at Don Grimaldi and said, word by word, "The next Don of the Grimaldi family is to be my husband. That was our original agreement, wasn't it?"

————————

1

Seeing that I wasn't joking, everyone froze.

After all, this wasn't the first time Marco Grimaldi had abandoned me at our wedding ceremony. Rumors of "the Rinaldi Principessa's public humiliation" had spread like wildfire through the major families. We were a laughingstock for six long months, yet I never once considered calling off the engagement.

Salvatore Grimaldi quickly tried to placate me. "Marco just got carried away for a moment. Just give him a little more time..."

He dialed Marco's number again, but after just a few words, he was impatiently cut off.

"Don't give me that. No matter how pissed Jennifer gets, she'd never dare back out of this marriage. Besides, I'm not breaking off the engagement. I'm just with Bianca—she needs me. I'll be back."

In the background of the call, Bianca Rossi's sickeningly sweet voice chimed in. "Marco, I'm just helping you test her! The fact that she still wants to marry you after being abandoned so many times just proves her love for you is real!"

Hearing their blatant flirting, a humorless smile touched my lips. "You really think I'll wait forever?"

Marco seemed surprised that I could hear him and paused. When he spoke again, his voice softened with a hollow, placating tone. "Jennifer, you know what Bianca is like. She's been dependent on me since we were kids—it's hard for her to accept that I'm tying myself to someone else. Can we just push this back one more time? Once I get her settled, we'll start fresh."

Not counting this time, it had already been postponed six times. Wasn't that enough?

When Bianca first learned of my engagement to Marco, she had stormed back to the Grimaldi estate and thrown a massive tantrum. He had stood before me with a stern face, swearing he only saw her as a sister. But later, for the sake of this "sister," he had turned me into a joke in the eyes of all the families.

Salvatore's voice was thick with suppressed rage. "The ceremony is in three hours at the family chapel. I've arranged a private jet for you—you get back here now! The whole city is waiting to laugh at our families. Have you even thought about what this does to Jennifer's reputation?"

"I—"

A hint of hesitation crept into Marco's voice, and despite everything, my heart gave an involuntary squeeze.

Then Bianca's delicate whine cut in. "Marco, I've arranged everything for the private party. If you leave, I'll just find some other man to go with me. There are plenty of guys who want to date me!"

"Absolutely not!" His voice sharpened, laced with raw possession.

When he spoke to me again, his tone was filled with weary resignation. "Jennifer, I really can't get away right now. You've handled this kind of thing before—there's nothing you can't manage."

He said it so casually, as if the humiliation I endured under all those calculating and scrutinizing gazes was completely insignificant. As if the whispers and pity of the family elders were just trivial little annoyances.

A dull ache spread through my chest. I couldn't stop a cold laugh from escaping. "Do whatever you want."