After My Ex Left Me At The Altar, I Married the King of the Underworld

Three days later, I arrived at the venue wearing the black velvet gown Zayn had personally chosen for me.

The skirt had no elaborate decorations, but its cut perfectly complemented my pregnant figure.

Ryder spotted me immediately.

His eyes lit up for a moment, probably assuming, in his self-important way, that I had finally given in.

"I knew you'd come around."

He strode over, examining me like one of his possessions.

"But Emilia, if you want to be on my arm, you need to show some sincerity. You're still dressed so plainly, with no jewelry. It's not fit for a Conti's woman."

"Since you're here, just follow me quietly and don't wander off."

I didn't even bother to give him a glance. I sidestepped him and walked directly toward the main table at the front of the ballroom.

A single seat was empty there, next to Zayn's exclusive wine glass.

"Stop!" Ryder, infuriated by my dismissal, snapped. "I'm talking to you! Our seats are over there, in the corner. Where the hell do you think you're going?"

I took another step forward. "That's your seat. My seat is over there."

I lifted my chin, pointing to the very center of the room.

Ryder followed my gaze, and his face instantly turned ugly.

"That's the Vettori family's head table! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The commotion was loud enough to draw the attention of the surrounding guests.

Before I could shake him off, a shrill shout pierced the elegant violin music.

"Emilia! How did you get in here?!"

Carmela, squeezed into a gaudy, sequined red dress, marched over, spoiling for a fight.

She pointed at the ring on my hand. "How did a cheap whore like this get in? And she still dares to parade around wearing that fake?"

Countless eyes focused on me.

Carmela reveled in the attention, her voice growing even louder.

"Everyone, look! The ring on this woman's hand, isn't it a copy of the Vettori family's 'Fleur-de-lis Blood Ring'?"

"Tonight is Don Zayn's first public appearance with his Donna, and this bitch has the nerve to wear a fake and insult the real one?"

"Security! Where the hell is security? How did this trash get in here?"

"Is she here to sell herself? Trying to land a sugar daddy?"

Ryder's face was chalk-white. He yanked his hand away from me and even took a step back, quickly adjusting his cuffs.

He spoke coldly to the curious onlookers. "I don't know her."

"Did you hear that? Ryder doesn't even want to acknowledge a disgrace like you!" Seeing Ryder's reaction, Carmela grew bolder.

"Take that fake ring off and get the hell out of here!"

"Are you sure you want to kick me out?" I asked, a half-smile on my face.

My attitude startled Carmela, and her confidence wavered for a split second. "Stop pretending! Take that piece of trash off!"

With that, she lunged for my ring.

I tried to step aside to avoid her.

But I forgot I was wearing heels, and being pregnant made me less agile.

Someone's foot shot out, tripping me hard.

I lost my balance and fell heavily to the floor.

Before I could react, a sharp stiletto heel ground into my left hand.

A searing pain shot through me.

Carmela smiled, grinding her heel into my fingers and the ring.

"That's what you get for wearing a fake! For putting on an act!"

"Since you were shameless enough to follow us here, consider this ring your admission fee!"

My hand was a bloody mess. Blood stained the pigeon's blood ruby and seeped into the plush carpet.

People around us started to stir, wanting to break it up.

I cradled my stomach. For the sake of the child inside me, I endured the excruciating pain and tried to state my identity.

"Stop! I'm Zayn's..."

SMACK! A loud slap cut me off.

"Shut up! Are you going to start rumors that you're Zayn's mistress now? As if you're worthy!"

My face burned, and I could taste blood at the corner of my mouth.

I had no intention of fighting a crazy woman in a place like this. There was no need.

Zayn would have her hands and feet broken, inch by inch.

Ryder finally reacted, rushing over and kneeling down, calling for her to stop.

"Emilia, have you had enough?" He looked at my bleeding hand, a flicker of something in his eyes.

"You wore a fake ring and dressed like this just to get humiliated in front of me. You're trying to win me back with this pathetic stunt, aren't you?"

"Fine. If you beg me right now, I'll agree to take you back."

I endured the pain, looked at his foolish expression, and smiled.

"Ryder, you're finished."

"Not just you. The entire Conti family, and the Rossis, you're all finished."

Ryder's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to lash out.

The grand doors of the ballroom were thrown open from the outside.

The once-noisy hall fell completely silent.

Zayn Vettori, dressed in a black custom-tailored suit and holding our son, Lucas, in his arms, strode in.

Ryder's face changed. He scrambled to pull me up from the floor and hide me behind him.

"Shit, Zayn's here! You better not make a scene!"

"As long as you don't cause any more trouble for Carmela, I can give you a chance. Your genes aren't bad, after all..."

Before he could finish, Lucas, secure in Zayn's arms, struggled to be let down.

The moment the little boy's feet hit the floor, he took off on his short legs, running straight toward me.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his clear, child-like voice choked with tears as he cried out, "Mama!"

Zayn's gaze followed his son, landing on me, a disheveled mess in the corner.

He took in the slap mark on my face, my bloodied, crushed hand.

Ryder was completely frozen.

He pointed at Luca, his voice trembling.

"Am I hearing things? The boy... just called her... Mama?"