I Married You For Your Brother’s Face

I married the most ruthless Don in Chicago, but not for love, money, or power. I married Luca Falcone because he was the only man on earth who carried the same DNA as his dead identical twin, Dante—the love of my life. For three years, I played the role of the submissive, obsessed wife. I endured his coldness. I cooked for his mistress, Sofia. I even stayed silent when Sofia pushed me down a flight of stairs in a jealous rage, nearly killing me. Luca thought I stayed because I was weak. He thought the way I stared at his face was adoration. He never realized I was looking right through him, seeing the ghost of the brother he could never live up to. But the moment the second pink line appeared on the pregnancy test, my mission was complete. I had secured the heir. I had brought a piece of Dante back to the world. The vessel was no longer needed. I signed the divorce papers, packed my bags, and vanished into the night while Luca was busy with his mistress. When he finally tracked me down months later, broken and begging on his knees for me to come home, I didn't feel a thing. I looked down at the man who thought he was a King and delivered the final blow. "I never loved you, Luca. I married you for the sperm."

Chapters

Chapter 10

Luca POV

The private wing of the hospital reeked of antiseptic and old money.

I loathed it.

Sofia perched on the edge of the exam table, swinging her legs back and forth like a petulant child. She looked fine. She looked better than fine; she looked bored.

"I told you, Luca, it's just a little dizziness," she whined, inspecting her manicured nails. "I don't need a doctor. I need a shopping spree."

I leaned against the wall, checking the Rolex on my wrist for the third time.

Elena should have landed in Paris by now.

I had tried calling her twice. Both times, it went straight to voicemail.

It gnawed at me. Elena always answered on the first ring. Always.

The doctor walked in, clutching a clipboard to his chest like a shield. Dr. Aris. He was the family OB-GYN, the one who handled the wives and mistresses of the Chicago Outfit with equal discretion.

"Ms. Moretti," he nodded, his professional mask slipping slightly. "Your vitals are stable. It's likely just dehydration."

"See?" Sofia hopped off the table, smoothing her skirt. "Can we go now?"

Dr. Aris looked at me. He hesitated, his eyes darting nervously.

"Don Falcone," he said, lowering his voice. "While you are here... I wanted to ask about your wife."

I stiffened, pushing off the wall. "What about her?"

"She missed her appointment yesterday. It's the second one she's rescheduled."

"Appointment for what?" I asked, frowning. "She has migraines?"

Dr. Aris looked confused. He adjusted his glasses, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow.

"No, sir. Her prenatal checkup. For the pregnancy."

The world tilted on its axis.

The hum of the air conditioner cut out into a deafening silence. The sound of Sofia's heels clicking on the tile evaporated.

All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, roaring like the ocean.

"Pregnancy?" I repeated. The word felt foreign, heavy as lead in my mouth.

"Yes," the doctor said, looking terrified now. "She's... she's almost four months along. The records show-"

Four months.

My mind reeled back, searching.

The loose dresses.

The herbal tea that smelled like dirt.

The way she cradled her stomach when she fell down the stairs.

The stairs.

Ice flooded my veins, freezing me in place.

She fell down the stairs because I pushed her. I had put my hands on my pregnant wife and shoved her.

"Luca?" Sofia touched my arm. "What is he talking about? She's pregnant?"

I slapped her hand away as if her touch burned.

"Get out," I snarled at the doctor.

"Sir, I-"

"GET OUT!"

The doctor fled without looking back.

I pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking so violently I dropped it once before I could unlock it.

I dialed Elena.

The number you have dialed is not in service.

I stared at the screen, the mechanical voice mocking me.

Not in service?

I opened WhatsApp.

User not found.

Panic clawed at my throat as I opened the tracking app I had installed on her phone years ago.

Signal Lost. Last location: O'Hare International Airport. Terminal 3 trash receptacle.

She wasn't in Paris.

She wasn't shopping.

"Luca, calm down," Sofia said, her voice shrill and grating. "So she's pregnant. It's probably not even yours. You know how she-"

I turned on her slowly.

The look on my face must have been demonic, because she took a step back, her hip hitting the metal counter with a clang.

"Not mine?" I whispered, my voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "She has looked at no one but me for three years. She worships the ground I walk on."

But did she?

Is the man you love in this room?

No.

The memory hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me.

She told me. She told me to my face, and I was too arrogant to hear it.

She didn't take clothes. She took the box. The box with Dante's things.

She wasn't on vacation.

She was gone.

And she had taken my heir with her.

I didn't say another word to Sofia. I turned and sprinted out of the room.

I ran through the hospital corridors, blind to the nurses, shoving past security.

I burst out into the parking lot, gasping for air, clutching my chest as if my heart were failing.

"Elena!" I screamed her name at the grey sky, raw and desperate.

Silence.

Only the wind answered.

She was gone.

Continue to next part

I woke from a five-year coma not to the faces of my family, but to my own death certificate. It was signed by my parents and my fiancé, Dante Moretti, the most ruthless Don in our world. He had sworn on his father's grave to wait for me. Instead, he replaced me with Sienna—the very woman who put me in that hospital bed. My own son, Luca, looked at me with cold, unfamiliar eyes. "You're not my mother," he sneered, hiding behind the woman who wore my face. My parents rushed to shield her, not me. "You must understand the bigger picture," my father said. "We did what was necessary for the Famiglia." But the final betrayal came after Sienna pushed me off a bridge and needed a blood transfusion. My own parents signed the consent form to use my blood, and my fiancé gave the order. "Save her," he snarled. The nurse told me they were ordered to "discard the blood bag after use." As if I were trash. I walked out of that hospital, a ghost in my own life. I took the new identity my old professor offered and vanished. This time, I wouldn't be Elara Bianchi, the tragic fiancée. I would build an empire of my own.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.1

His Mafia Queen, My Substitute Heart

7.1

My perfect marriage to Don Dante Moretti, the most powerful man in the New York mob, ended the moment my father died. I was twenty-four, pregnant with his heir, and I believed I was his queen. But for two days, while I planned a funeral alone, my husband was unreachable. Then a friend sent me a photo. Dante in London, his hand tangled in the hair of the woman beside him. It was my cousin, Valentina. He came home with lies about a dead phone and a difficult summit. That night, I found his private journal, and my world disintegrated. He had married me because I had "Valentina’s eyes." I was a substitute. Our unborn child wasn't a product of love. It was a project. A girl he planned to name Elena, after Valentina, calling her a "perfect, tiny piece of the woman I can never truly possess." I wasn't his wife. I was a stand-in. The love I felt for him didn't just die. It was murdered. The next morning, I slid a folder across the kitchen island. "Donation forms," I said. He didn't even look before scrawling his signature on what were actually our finalized divorce papers. His arrogance was my weapon. As he slept beside me that night, smelling of lies and my cousin, I made an appointment at a private clinic. He wanted a legacy? I would give him nothing.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.6

Reborn as my enemy's contract wife

8.6

Camilia was killed by her cruel Mafia husband after all evidence of rebel and attempted assassination pointed to her. Just when she thought all hope was lost, she finds herself in a new body and a contract marriage with none other than her worst nightmare , Donatello Moreni. This sends her world spinning in unexpected ways putting her in a tough spot with no help and no escape. What happens when Camilia finds out that everything she once believed was a big lie and those you trust the most are the ones who would pull the trigger on you ?

Mafia Mystery Romance

9.3

Sold To The Alphas

9.3

"I was told I was a monster. My father told me I was a pawn. He didn't realize I was a Queen." For seventeen years, Kaia has been locked in a gilded cage, hidden from the world and her own reflection. As the Kentrikos Territory's best-kept secret, she is the White Wolf-a myth, a legend, and a target. Now, her father is selling her to the highest bidder to secure his legacy. The rules were simple: Choose a mate. Secure the alliance. Don't ask questions. But as Kaia is paraded through the four territories to meet her potential Alphas, her sheltered existence begins to unravel. Her wolf, Selah, isn't looking for a mate-she's looking for blood. From the frozen wastes of the north to the high-tech laboratories of the west, Kaia uncovers a trail of secrets. In a world of Alphas, the rarest wolf of all is done playing nice. Kaia must decide: will she be the submissive mate they expect, or the Alpha they should have feared?

Mafia Romance Werewolf

9.2

Tarnished Tyrant - A Mafia Romance

9.2

I got pregnant from a one-night-stand. I wasn't going to tell the father... Until I walked into the office and found out he's my new boss. Here's some advice: Don't sleep with your boss. Here's some more: Don't sleep with your married boss. And while I'm at it: Don't sleep with your married, dangerous, billionaire, completely-incapable-of-feeling boss, because all he's going to do is break your heart and your body and leave you to cry in the ashes. But I've never been good at taking my own advice. In my defense, I didn't know that Nikolai Zhukova was any of those things when we met. I just thought he was the gray-eyed sinner in first class. And when I started having a panic attack at the sudden turbulence, I thought he was the kind soul calming me down. But Nikolai is the farthest thing from kind. He's cruel, he's powerful, he's arrogant. And now, according to the test in my hand... He's the father of my baby.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.7

The Bodyguard Who Stole the Mafia Bride

7.7

Three hours ago, I was the revered Bianchi princess, standing at the altar in a million-dollar gown to seal New York's most powerful Mafia alliance. Instead, my fiancé Julian Falcone didn't show up, publicly slaughtering our sacred pact for a rising actress and turning me into the laughingstock of the underworld. In a drunken haze of humiliation, I used my silent, lethal bodyguard, Damien Moretti, to numb my pain. But the next morning, he didn't just walk away. He showed me a video of my willing surrender and cornered me. "Marry me. Become Mrs. Moretti." My own father froze my accounts, demanding I get on my knees to beg the cheating Falcone heir for forgiveness, or face a fifty-million-dollar penalty. I was stripped of my assets, betrayed by the man I loved for a decade, and sold out by my own blood. I had no choice but to agree to Damien's marriage of convenience to survive. But what terrified me most was my new husband himself. A mere bodyguard shouldn't carry an invitation-only Centurion black card. A mere bodyguard shouldn't be able to terrify a Mafia heir with a single, murderous look. Who on earth was Damien Moretti? With no money and my back against the wall, I was forced to join a reality show alongside my cheating ex and his mistress. They thought they could continue to humiliate the discarded bride on live television. But they didn't know I was walking into this warzone with a monster at my back.

Mafia Modern Romance

I Married You For Your Brother’s Face

Chapter 10

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