My Don’s Mistress Got My Billions

I went back to my apartment. The first thing I did was walk to my vanity.

A twelve-carat blue diamond ring sat there.

Vincent's engagement ring from ten years ago.

I picked it up and, without hesitating, threw it into the fireplace.

The flames licked at the platinum band, but the diamond just sat there, sparkling.

A perfect symbol for my love. Cold, hard, and dead.

"Miss, you're back."

My butler, Andre, came in. He took one look at my face and knew.

"Call a meeting of all the family elders," I said, turning to him. "Tonight, eight o'clock. Emergency."

"Yes, Miss. Also, Miss..." He hesitated. "Chicago called again. About the marriage proposal. It's the third time this year."

The mysterious family in Chicago.

For two years, they'd been asking for an alliance. I'd turned them all down, blinded by Vincent.

"Tell them I accept."

Andre's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Shall I arrange a meeting?"

"Not a meeting. A wedding. Arrange it for three days from now."

"Three days?" Andre almost lost his professional cool. "Miss, that's incredibly fast…"

"Three days." I downed the whiskey, feeling the burn. "And get Sotheby's on the line. I want the full payout from last night's auction liquidated. I want it in cash. All of it."

That night, the five family elders gathered in my conference room.

They were the old guard, men who had watched me grow up. They actually cared about me.

"Isabella, what's happened?"

Lester, the oldest, spoke first. He was my adoptive father's most trusted advisor and the biggest supporter of my marriage to Vincent.

"I'm breaking the engagement," I said, getting straight to the point. "The contract with Vincent Corleone is officially void."

The room was silent.

"Child, was there a problem?" another elder, Salvatore, asked gently. "If it's a small fight, we can mediate…"

"It's not a fight," I said, looking at their kind faces. "It's a betrayal."

I told them everything. The whole ten-year truth.

Vincent's sabotage, Ava's real identity, the stolen assets, today's confrontation. I left nothing out.

When I finished, the room was dead quiet.

"That bastard," Lester slammed his hand on the table. "The Rossi family has always honored the alliance with the Corleones, and he treats you like this!"

"It's too late for that now," I said, standing up. "What matters is the future. I've decided to marry the man from Chicago."

The elders looked at each other.

"Isabella," Salvatore said carefully, "we don't know much about that family. A sudden marriage could be a big risk."

"A bigger risk than Vincent?" I shot back.

No one had an answer.

"Give me three days to prepare the wedding," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "This is my decision."

For the next two days, I didn't stop.

I designed my own wedding dress. White silk and diamonds. 300 million dollars' worth of diamonds. The price of my freedom, glittering on a dress.

If Vincent wanted the money, he could try to rip it off my dress.

On the morning of the third day, a package arrived at my door.

Inside was a dead pigeon, its wings broken.

And a note.

"Isabella, I sent flowers to your mother's grave. I’ve made my decision. You’re still my Donna, but in this house, you and Ava are equals. And you won’t say a word against it. This is my final offer. Bring me the deed to the gallery, or there will be consequences. Remember, you will always be mine. —V.C."

I looked at the note and laughed.

Vincent Corleone, how delusional can you be?

You think the world revolves around you?

You think I can't live without you?

I tore the note to shreds and threw it in the trash.

Three hours later, I stood in front of St. Mary's Cathedral.

The diamond dress was a declaration of war, glittering in the sun.

Lester came to my side and offered his arm.

"Are you ready, my child?"

I took his arm, feeling its warmth and strength.

"I'm ready."