My Sister Stole My Groom I Married The Don

The slap echoed through the silent church.

My cheek burned, but I didn't flinch.

Isabella's eyes were full of venom and victory. "Now do you know your place?"

The moment the slap landed, her expression crumbled. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to the sobbing guests.

"I'm so sorry, everyone. I just... I couldn't take it anymore." Her voice cracked. "The truth is... my father only took Elara and her mother in because I begged him to. She's a bastard. She has no right to the De Luca name, much less a place in our home. But after she moved in, she tried to take everything from me."

She squeezed out a few more tears, sounding even more pitiful.

"She even started imagining my fiancé was hers!"

I stared at her, stunned. When did she get so good at lying?

"Three months ago, she got on her knees and begged me," Isabella sobbed. "She asked if she could borrow my engagement ring, just for a few days. I felt sorry for her, so I said yes. And now... now she's twisting the story, using my ring as proof that she's engaged to Marco. As for the baby, it’s a complete lie. I belong only to Marco!"

People in the crowd were nodding. "Ah, so that's what happened."

"No wonder she made such a scene."

My mind flashed to the evidence I’d received this morning, delivered with that cryptic text.

Evidence of their affair. Of Marco conspiring against his own family, all for a woman.

I burned my gaze into Isabella.

Soon, that triumphant smile would be wiped off her face for good.

Isabella hid behind Marco. "Marco, I'm scared. The way she's looking at me is terrifying."

Marco immediately wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I'll protect you."

He glared at me, his eyes filled with disgust. "Elara, you've lost your mind. Do you have any idea how much stress Isabella has been under trying to help you?"

"I've lost my mind?" I laughed. “Marco, you betrayed your own blood for a woman like this. For her, you cost this family…”

I let the accusation hang in the air, unfinished. A powerful female voice sliced through the tension.

"Enough!"

Marco's mother, Sofia Moretti, was on her feet.

"Elara De Luca, you have shamed my son enough." Sofia walked onto the altar. "Someone take this crazy woman away. Lock her in the cellar until she comes to her senses."

A few guards in black suits started walking toward me.

"Mrs. Moretti, are you sure about this?" I didn't fight. I just looked at her calmly. "Locking up a guest in your cellar... if word of this gets out, it could hurt Marco's reputation."

"Reputation?" Sofia sneered. "You're the one hurting his reputation! A bastard, making a scene at a Moretti wedding?"

"I'm just taking back what's mine," I said, my voice even. "It would be a shame if Marco's position as heir was questioned because he couldn't handle one woman."

Sofia's face darkened. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm just stating a fact," I smiled. "After all, there are others in the family with their eyes on the heir's seat."

That was all it took.

"Insolent bitch! You dare threaten my son's future?" Sofia's voice was pure venom. "Guards! Get this filth out of my sight. Take her to the docks and feed her to the fishes!"

The church went dead silent.

Everyone was shocked. Ordering a hit at a wedding was insane.

But this was exactly what I needed.

This was the plan.

The longer I dragged out this farce, the more time Don Dante had to secure the final piece of evidence—the nail in Marco’s and his mother’s coffin.

Every insult, every blow they landed on me, was just another minute for Dante’s victory.

Just as the guards were about to grab me, a figure rushed out.

"No! Please, don't hurt my daughter!"

It was my mother.

A jolt of shock went through me.

What was she doing here?

Isabella smirked, her eyes cold and calculating.

I realized then: I’d stalled for too long. The script had changed. And Isabella had just played a new, cruel card…

She wore a simple grey dress, and she stumbled onto the altar.

My mother hit her knees. The thud echoed on the cold, marble floor right in front of Sofia.

"Mrs. Moretti, I'm begging you, please spare Elara! She's young, she doesn't know any better. I'll apologize for her!"

"Mom, get up!" I tried to reach her, but the guards held me back.

My mother remained on her knees, her sobs the only sound in the cavernous church.

"Mrs. Moretti, it's my fault. I didn't raise her right. Please, forgive her this once."

Sofia looked down on my kneeling mother without a hint of pity.

Marco and Isabella just stood there, watching coldly.

Isabella leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. "See?" she smirked. "Even your own mother knows you're worthless."