I Married the Don Instead of His Nephew

My mother asked me whose ring I intended to wear.

This time, I didn't choose Marco Falcone. I chose his uncle instead, Lorenzo Falcone, the Don. Her reaction was instant, her gaze sharp and full of disbelief, as if I'd just slapped her across the face. After all, every house in the territory knew Marco and I were promised to each other, our names spoken in the same breath since we were children.

For ten years, I'd chased him and made it clear no other man would have my hand. But that was the old me, the version of myself that no longer existed.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as memories of my past life, before I was reborn, flooded my mind.

In that life, after Marco and I were joined under the blood pact, I came to a heartbreaking realization.

He'd never once laid a finger on me. At first, I told myself it was something private, something a man couldn't always help. I made excuses for him and tried to convince myself it didn't matter. But then, on the anniversary of the day they'd sealed our union, I walked into a room I'd never seen before.

It was locked away, hidden behind the family's walls, and filled with photographs of my cousin.

That's when it hit me. It wasn't that Marco was cold to all women. He just didn't love me.

Now, in this second life, I was done bleeding for a man who would never love me in return. I decided to let them have each other, once and for all.

But as I walked the length of the chapel toward Lorenzo, Marco's face turned pale, and he completely lost control.

...

Three days after my engagement to Marco Falcone was formally spoken for before the families, I crossed paths with him at a gathering at the social club. His friends spotted me, and of course, they couldn't resist.

They were already laughing, clearly having a field day at my expense.

"Marco, look who it is. Your little shadow is here again," one of them called out with a grin.

"Adriana, you're already promised to Marco, and yet you still trail after him? Shouldn't you let the poor man enjoy his own night before you chain him down?" another one chimed in.

When Marco saw me, his annoyance was written plain across his face.

"Adriana," he spat, "are you really this desperate to have my name? You didn't even come to me before you let the families sign that pact. And now the whole territory's talking. You've got some nerve."

His disgust hit me like a punch in the gut. I had to take a deep breath and steady myself before I said anything back. "It didn't need your approval. I'm not marrying you."

The room burst into laughter. Marco's friends practically doubled over. They laughed so hard the ice rattled in their glasses.

Of course, they couldn't resist piling on.

"Marco," one of them yelled, "better watch out. Your bride's about to pull another stunt to get your attention."

Marco just shook his head, more irritated by the second. He smoothed a hand back through his hair, laughing a beat too quick. "Adriana, now you're playing hard to get?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "With the Falcone name behind you? If I'm not marrying you, who else would have you?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's not forget, you've sworn since we were children that you'd be mine. The whole territory already thinks you belong to me."

Then he lowered his voice. "I'll let this pact stand, but don't forget. Yeah, I can give you a wedding the families will talk about for years. The license, though, the real one. That's only for the woman I actually mean to marry."

I froze. In my past life, Marco had bent to the family's arrangement at this exact moment, and our union had been made law.

'Could it be that he had been reborn, too?'

Before I could even process what was happening, my cousin Carla appeared at the gathering. The moment she spotted me standing beside Marco, her face twisted in distress, and tears began to spill from her eyes.

"Adriana, Marco, I heard you're to be joined soon. I didn't bring a gift, but I wish you both all the happiness in the world," she stammered, her voice breaking on every word. Her eyes flicked once toward Marco before she lowered them again.

Before she could finish, Carla turned and bolted, sobbing as she ran off.

"Look at what you've done, Adriana," Marco muttered under his breath, shooting me a furious glare before going after her without another word.

When they came back, their fingers were locked together, tight as ever. Carla's lips were swollen and red, and there was a mark on Marco's neck.

The whole room was watching, waiting to see what I'd do.

In my previous life, if I'd seen another woman drift this close to Marco, I'd have made a scene to remind every made man in the room that I was still his.