The Crippled Don's Savage Queen

The day I was supposed to marry Dante, his Principessa, Valentina, provoked a rival family on the city outskirts, ending with her being taken hostage in the ensuing shootout.

She sent a message for Dante to come rescue her, alone.

This was the "knight and princess" game they had been playing since childhood.

Valentina would recklessly court death, and Dante would risk his life, time and again, to bring her back from a hail of bullets.

In my past life, Dante claimed he was tired of it and insisted on completing our wedding.

But Valentina refused a rescue from her own family. She was ultimately brutalized by our rivals and left utterly broken.

Dante didn't even attend Valentina's "welcome home" party, only saying that she had reaped what she sowed.

But a few months later, while I was staying at a secluded villa awaiting the birth of our child, a massive explosion ripped through the property.

Dante locked the exits and screamed at me through the flames, "If you had just said something—anything—to convince me not to be so stubborn with her, Valentina wouldn't have ended up like this!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at our wedding, at the very moment he hung up on Valentina's distress call.

I smiled and adjusted his bow tie. "Go on, knight. Your Principessa is waiting for you."

After Dante left, I dialed the number of the Don of the Falcone family, a man whose life they had indirectly shattered.

"Mr. Falcone, I hear you're in need of a wife?"

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1

After a long night of negotiations, I finally settled the terms of my marriage alliance with the Falcone family.

Just then, Dante’s call came in. "Isabella, Valentina's a little banged up. I'm going to stay with her at the safe house for a few days."

"You tell our families the wedding is off. Make it a clean break."

I was busy examining the catalog of antique jewelry Lorenzo's men had sent over.

The pages glittered with heirlooms spanning generations.

I answered without looking up. "Fine. Do what you need to do. I'll handle my family."

Dante sounded surprised by my composure. "But hasn't your father always had a problem with me?"

Dante was a street orphan, adopted by the Don of the Caruso family. Later, for Valentina's sake, he gave up the chance to become a Capo and became her dedicated enforcer.

My father found Dante's street-rat origins beneath our family, and his constant drama with Valentina made him vehemently oppose our marriage.

I'd only insisted on the marriage because I felt indebted to him; he'd once carried me from a pile of bodies during a firefight in the snow.

In my previous life, with the wedding hall full of guests and my father's face ashen, I couldn't bring myself to tell him to go to her.

Dante had also insisted that Valentina was a grown woman, responsible for her own actions.

I just never imagined he would pin it all on me in the end.

Hearing the feigned worry in his voice, I let out a soft chuckle. "Saving her is what you do. No one will object. Don't worry, just stay with Valentina."

Dante let out a long sigh of relief. "Isabella, I knew you'd be so understanding."

"Not like Valentina. She's a grown woman but still throws tantrums like a spoiled child."

Before hanging up, Dante's voice came through again, hesitant.

"Isabella, about the reparations for this shootout, I want to front the money for Valentina."

"So... that pink diamond I had custom-made for you? I'm going to have to return it."

Hearing this, I didn't even lift my eyes from the jewelry catalog.

"Fine. Do what you think is best."

The other end of the line went silent.

Dante was undoubtedly shocked by my easy agreement.

After all, I'd thrown more than one fit over him cleaning up Valentina's messes.

The year we first met, on New Year's Eve, Valentina stole a rival family's racehorse and went on a wild tear down the highway.

Dante abandoned me, leading his men to clean up the mess all night.

On my birthday, Valentina provoked another family's Capo and ended up dangling from the Brooklyn Bridge.

Dante put down the freshly cut cake and left to negotiate with their Consigliere.

Dante told me Valentina had been diagnosed with severe psychological issues as a child and wasn't expected to live past thirty—that's why she was so desperate for attention.

He asked me not to hold it against her.

At first, I could tolerate it.

But on the day of my mother's funeral, Valentina was double-crossed during a private arms deal overseas.

Dante still left.

Dressed in black, standing in the pouring rain, I lost my temper with him for the first time.

But afterward, Dante's own men turned around and blamed me.

"Isabella, Valentina is all alone in a foreign country. It's so dangerous."

"If Dante doesn't go, she could die!"

"Why are you picking a fight with a dying girl?"

Right, why was I picking a fight with a dying girl?

But Valentina was always "about to die," yet she never did.

She only got worse, even managing to ruin Dante's proposal to me three times.

Each time, I would have a huge fight with Dante.

Dante would hold me, his face a mask of exhaustion, saying that Valentina wore him out, that she was always reckless, like a child who would never grow up.

But the Caruso family had raised him, and he had to repay that debt.

I asked him when the repayment would end.

He fell silent, only telling me to wait a little longer.

Later, things went smoothly all the way to our wedding, and Dante no longer indulged Valentina's antics.

I thought he truly meant his promises—that from now on, he would be responsible only for me.

I never imagined he could ever let go of that childish knight and princess game with Valentina.

If that's the case, then let them play it for a lifetime.

On the phone, Dante's voice, rambling on, pulled me from my thoughts.

"Isabella, don't be angry. Once I've settled Valentina down, I promise I'll make it up to you with an even grander wedding."

Before he could finish, Valentina's tearful scream came through the phone.

"Dante! My leg hurts so much! The doctor said it's going to scar. I'll never wear a short skirt again!"

Dante hurriedly said, "I have to go check on her, I'll call you back..."

He hung up mid-sentence.

I tossed my phone onto the table. No, Dante. This time, I won't be waiting.