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"Siena, the syndicate's European expansion needs a bodyguard. Let me borrow your fiancé for three years." Exactly seven days before my high-profile mafia wedding, the best friend I considered a sister sat comfortably on my custom Italian sofa and made this absurd demand. She tapped the faint scar on her collarbone, the supposed proof that she had taken a bullet for me, now weaponized to guilt-trip me. "You owe me a life, remember? I'm not asking for your money or your territory. I'm just borrowing a man." Any honorable man would have sternly refused at a moment like this. But Lorenzo, the man I had loved for seven whole years, merely adjusted his expensive cuffs and smiled. "It's just business, Siena," he promised solemnly. "Three years will pass in a blink. When I return, our wedding will proceed exactly as planned. You've always been so understanding. Be a good, obedient mafia wife and don't make me worry, okay?" As he reached out, wanting to hold my hand, a wave of intense, physical revulsion violently churned in my stomach. I saw the unmistakable smudge of foundation on his crisp white collar. And the diamond promise bracelet he had given me, which had been missing for a long time, was now gleaming on Lucia's wrist. The truth hit me like a basin of ice water dumped over my head. The man I was about to marry was already sleeping with my best friend. The seven years of youth and devotion I had sacrificed for this man instantly turned to ash. I pulled out my phone, opened an encrypted channel, and sent a single message to my mother: "The engagement with Lorenzo is off. I am ready to meet the man you have been telling me about."
Contents
Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen Chapter 1
"Siena, the syndicate's European expansion needs a bodyguard. Let me borrow your fiancé for three years."
Exactly seven days before my high-profile mafia wedding, the best friend I considered a sister sat comfortably on my custom Italian sofa and made this absurd demand.
She tapped the faint scar on her collarbone, the supposed proof that she had taken a bullet for me, now weaponized to guilt-trip me.
"You owe me a life, remember? I'm not asking for your money or your territory. I'm just borrowing a man."
Any honorable man would have sternly refused at a moment like this.
But Lorenzo, the man I had loved for seven whole years, merely adjusted his expensive cuffs and smiled.
"It's just business, Siena," he promised solemnly.
"Three years will pass in a blink. When I return, our wedding will proceed exactly as planned. You've always been so understanding. Be a good, obedient mafia wife and don't make me worry, okay?"
As he reached out, wanting to hold my hand, a wave of intense, physical revulsion violently churned in my stomach.
I saw the unmistakable smudge of foundation on his crisp white collar.
And the diamond promise bracelet he had given me, which had been missing for a long time, was now gleaming on Lucia's wrist.
The truth hit me like a basin of ice water dumped over my head.
The man I was about to marry was already sleeping with my best friend.
The seven years of youth and devotion I had sacrificed for this man instantly turned to ash.
I pulled out my phone, opened an encrypted channel, and sent a single message to my mother:
"The engagement with Lorenzo is off. I am ready to meet the man you have been telling me about."
Chapter 1
Siena POV
"Siena, what's wrong? Who are you texting?"
Lucia leaned forward, her eyes darting toward my phone screen.
I immediately locked the screen and looked up at her coldly.
A flash of guilt crossed Lucia's eyes, but she quickly masked it with her signature innocent pout.
"Are you really going to be mad at me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, playing the victim to perfection.
"I thought we were family. I thought you said you'd give me anything I needed."
She deliberately reached up, her manicured fingers gently brushing the faint scar on her collarbone.
"I bled for you, Siena. I almost died in that freezing water so you could live."
"And now, when I need your help, you're just going to sit there and ignore me?"
At the mention of that incident, my blood ran cold inch by inch.
A year ago, when she took that bullet for me and fell into the sea, I had wept for days.
I had sworn to protect her with my life.
The Lucia I knew back then was brave, selfless, and pure.
But the woman sitting in front of me right now seemed like a complete stranger.
The sheer magnitude of their betrayal was so massive that it burned away any capacity for rage, leaving only a chilling emptiness.
"If you both think it's appropriate," I said, my voice eerily calm, "then do whatever you want."
A synchronized sigh of relief washed over them.
Lucia's fake tears vanished instantly without a trace.
A triumphant smile bloomed on her face as she leaned in, trying to link her arm through mine affectionately, just like two ordinary girls gossiping.
"I knew you'd understand! Don't worry, I promise to return your fiancé to you in one piece after three years."
I pulled my arm away, my expression completely detached.
"I don't need you to worry about that."
Before I could say that I was giving him to her permanently, Lorenzo interrupted eagerly, playing the role of a noble peacemaker.
"I told you she wasn't petty, Lucia," he beamed, looking at me with sickening pride.
"Siena has always been the perfect mafia woman. She understands the rules and knows the Family's business comes first."
He stepped closer, his handsome face radiating a hypocritical joy, and reached out to grab my hand.
"I won't ignore you while I'm in Europe, I swear. We can video call, just like we used to when I was stationed out West."
The exact moment his skin brushed mine, a violent wave of physical nausea surged from the pit of my stomach to my throat.
The thought of his hands, which had caressed her body, now touching mine made my skin crawl.
I recoiled violently, ripping my hand back as if I had been burned.
"Don't touch me," I snapped.
Lorenzo froze, his smile faltering into a look of genuine confusion.
"Siena? What are you throwing a fit about?"
Seven years.
I had tied the most precious seven years of my youth to this man.
Four years of him being stationed in distant territories.
Three years of using my casino earnings to arrange everything for him in this city, buying this multi-million-dollar penthouse just so we could finally have a home.
I was done waiting. I was done being the understanding, self-sacrificing woman.
"Nothing," I said, standing up and calmly smoothing the wrinkles on my dress.
"I'm just tired. I'm going to my room. Lock the door when you leave."
I turned my back on them and walked straight toward the hallway.
As I passed the open-concept kitchen, my eyes fell on the exquisite, half-prepared dinner resting on the marble island.
Premium Wagyu beef, a freshly opened bottle of vintage Barolo, and a custom cake.
I had spent the entire afternoon busy in the kitchen, just to celebrate my thirtieth birthday and our upcoming wedding.
And my fiancé and my so-called "best friend" had forgotten it completely.
"Why is she throwing a tantrum now?" I heard Lucia complain softly behind me, her tone laced with impatience.
"Didn't we already say we'd rush back for the wedding?"
"Just let her be. You know how her temper gets," Lorenzo coaxed her gently, his voice dripping with the effortless intimacy of a real couple.
"She just needs time to cool off. Come on, didn't you say you wanted sushi? I already booked a table for two."
He didn't even glance toward the kitchen.
He didn't even ask if I had eaten.
"Siena!" Lorenzo called out toward the hallway, not even bothering to lower his volume.
"Since you don't like raw fish, we're going to head out first. Text me what you want, and I'll bring you some takeout."
I didn't answer.
I stepped into the master bedroom and closed the heavy oak door.
The heavy click of the deadbolt sliding into the lock echoed in the quiet room.
I had locked them out of my space, and out of my life, forever.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
It was a reply from my mother, the formidable Mrs. Rossi, who never wasted time on sympathy.
"I always knew that boy was a slippery, dishonorable soldier, completely unworthy of our Rossi bloodline. Wear the red dress tomorrow night. See you at eight."
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