I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother

I was a Vitiello, sold to the Morettis to secure an alliance. For five years, I quietly loved Dante, counting down the minutes until our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral. But it ended with a single text three minutes before the ceremony. "Stay at the apartment. Sofia is awake. Don't make a scene." His ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, had woken from a coma with no memory. Just like that, I was erased. For thirty days, I waited in the shadows while Dante played hero to a woman who didn't remember him. He told me he was protecting her fragile mind. But then I found the truth. I stood outside the doctor's office and heard Dante refuse a treatment that would restore Sofia's memory. "If she remembers, she might leave again," Dante told the doctor. "Elena will wait. She's a good soldier. Let me have my fantasy." He wasn't protecting her. He was keeping her broken to feed his ego, banking on my submission. He thought I was furniture he could put in storage. He was wrong. I didn't go back to the apartment. Instead, I dialed a number every made man in New York feared. "Matteo," I said to Dante's lethal older brother, the King of the underworld. "I am done waiting. I want to be a Moretti bride. But not Dante's."

Chapters

Chapter 6

The humiliation was no longer a private affair; it had transformed into a public spectacle.

Dante and Sofia were inescapable.

They walked hand in hand through the estate gardens, parading their fabricated happiness. They sat on the patio of Dante's villa, perfectly framed by the window of Matteo's guest suite.

I watched as she fed him grapes. He laughed, throwing his head back, wearing a look of youthfulness I hadn't seen on his face in years.

My phone buzzed against the nightstand, breaking the trance.

Dante: Don't look out the window. It's just for show. She needs constant reassurance or the doctors say she'll regress.

I didn't reply. I couldn't.

Dante: I'm planning a fake proposal. Just to seal the memory. Then I can start weaning her off. Trust me.

A fake proposal.

The irony tasted like ash.

He had proposed to me in the front seat of a car, in the breathless space between hits. He had tossed a velvet ring box into my lap with trembling hands and said, "We should get this over with."

For me, it had been an afterthought. For her, he was planning theater.

"Donna Elena."

I turned. A maid hovered in the doorway, clutching a tablet.

"The Don sent this. He said you should approve the venue."

I took the device, my fingers brushing the cool screen.

It was a video file.

The interior of St. Patrick's Cathedral filled the display, but not as the world knew it.

It had been transfigured. Thousands of black roses lined the aisle, devouring the light. Candelabras as tall as men stood like silent sentinels, weeping wax onto the stone. It was Gothic. Dark. Oppressive.

It was magnificent.

It looked like a coronation for the Queen of the Underworld.

"It's perfect," I whispered.

"Who sent you that?"

Sofia stood in the doorway. She had walked right in, bypassing security with the codes Dante had undoubtedly gifted her.

She peered at the screen, her eyes widening.

"Wow," she breathed. "Is that... for Matteo's wedding?"

"Yes," I said, my voice steady.

"He must really love her," Sofia mused, a trace of envy bleeding into her tone. "Dante's proposal plans are... sweet. But this? This is power."

She didn't know the bride was me.

"Matteo returns tomorrow," I said, locking the screen and severing the image. "The wedding is in two days."

Dante appeared behind Sofia, his energy frantic.

"Why are you bothering Elena?" he snapped at Sofia, though his hand rested with practiced gentleness on her waist.

"We were just looking at Matteo's wedding venue," Sofia replied innocently.

Dante's eyes snapped to me, dark with annoyance.

"Stop obsessing over Matteo's wedding," he said to me, his voice sharp. "Focus on your role. You're supposed to be the grieving ex-fiancée who supports her sister-in-law. Don't get too lost in the fantasy of being Matteo's wife, Elena. It's creepy."

He thought I was roleplaying. He believed I was staring at the venue to torture myself with 'what ifs.'

"I know my role, Dante," I said coldly.

"Good," he clipped. "Come on, Sofia. We have to go."

"Where?" Sofia asked, blinking up at him.

"Surprise," Dante winked.

He led her away, leaving me in the silence.

The next morning, Sofia banged on my door.

"You have to come!" she cried, practically vibrating with excitement. "Dante is acting so weird. He's taking me to the Botanical Gardens. I think he's going to do it!"

"Do what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Propose!" She grabbed my hand, her grip desperate. "Please, Elena. I don't have any family. You're the closest thing I have to a sister. Be there for me?"

I looked at her. The innocence was so thick it was suffocating.

"Okay," I said. "I'll come."

I wanted to see it.

I needed to witness the brutal difference between duty and desire.

We drove to the gardens.

It was a wonderland of pink peonies and white lilies, the air sweet enough to rot teeth. Soft, instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers.

It was a fairy tale.

Dante was waiting under a gazebo draped in lush vines.

He looked handsome. Nervous.

When he saw me, his jaw tightened. He hadn't expected Sofia to bring an audience.

But he couldn't break character.

Slowly, with the weight of a thousand lies pressing down on him, he lowered himself onto one knee.

Continue to next part

The video that destroyed my career was leaked by the man I loved, Adrian Hoffman. He did it so his childhood sweetheart, Ashley, could steal the promotion I had earned. But the betrayal was far more twisted than I could have imagined. I discovered that for three years, the man in my bed wasn't Adrian. It was his identical twin brother, Dean, playing a sick, cruel game. Their plot didn't stop there. They framed me for plagiarism, then held me down on a surgical table to forcibly harvest my skin for Ashley after she disfigured herself to set me up. They even had me thrown in a military prison on false charges. My career, my body, my freedom-all sacrificed for another woman's ambition. I was nothing but a pawn. So I vanished. I cut off all contact and fled to a war zone in Syria, vowing to never return.

Action Fantasy Romance

7.2

Damaged Goods, A Priceless Return

7.2

After a fire stole my family and my voice, my boyfriend Jermain promised to be my shield. I was the silent composer behind our band's success, fighting to speak again-for him. Then I overheard him call me "damaged goods, a millstone around my neck." His betrayal escalated. He let his new flame publicly humiliate me, then abandoned me-injured and deafened-in a storm, calling me a "liability." The boy who promised to be my voice was gone. In his place was a stranger who saw me only as a burden he was tired of carrying. So I vanished. Three years later, with my voice and hearing restored, I returned not as a victim, but as a celebrated artist. He's back, begging for a second chance, but he's about to learn that the "damaged goods" he threw away are now priceless.

Action Modern Romance

7.8

Mated to The Enemy, Revenge For My Brother

7.8

Rosalind Rivers has only ever wanted one thing - revenge. The Lycan Prince, Aklan Draven, murdered her brother in cold blood. Or so she's believed her whole life. Now, forced to serve under him at the Lycan Academy, she has no choice but to obey the man she swore to hate. But hating him becomes harder with every clash, every stolen glance, every heartbeat that refuses to stay loyal to her rage. Because fate has a cruel sense of humor. He's her fated mate. Aklan doesn't understand why this stubborn, sharp-tongued wolf gets under his skin or why her scent feels like home. He only knows she's trouble. The kind that tests his control, drags buried memories to the surface, and makes him question everything he thought he knew about loyalty and guilt. But when a hidden truth comes to light - that Rosalind's brother didn't die by Aklan's hand but by choice, their world begins to unravel. Old wounds reopen. Ancient forces stir. And Rosalind learns she is no ordinary wolf, but something far rarer, something worth killing for. Between vengeance and love, duty and destiny, one wrong move could ignite a war between realms. And the cruelest part? She might just lose her heart to the man she was born to destroy.

Action Mystery Werewolf

8.9

Seducing My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle

8.9

My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day. I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather. They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die. To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor. When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need." Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts. "If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug." Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand. My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left. I didn't cry or beg them anymore. Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card. It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle. If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.

Action Billionaire Modern

7.1

Seven Years of Devotion: He Left Me to Die, I Left Him for Good

7.1

On the seventh anniversary of my marriage, I, Clara Hart, received two "gifts." One was an urgent alert from the embassy-armed conflict in Arkania was imminent, and all citizens were advised to evacuate immediately. The other was a message from my husband, Adrian Foster, "Pack your things. Wait for me downstairs. Ten minutes." I quickly packed an emergency kit and rushed downstairs. People around me were already evacuating in a panic, yet Adrian was nowhere to be seen. I called him, my voice trembling, only to be met with a cold, clipped response. "The car's packed with confidential company documents. There's no room left. Sophie has a severe fear of war. I need to get her out first." My blood ran cold. "What about me?" I asked, barely believing what I was hearing. Adrian clicked his tongue impatiently. "Clara, stop being so dramatic. Just take the embassy bus. It's the same." Explosions thundered in the distance, shattering everything I had believed in over the past seven years. Whatever love had once existed between us crumbled to dust. I stopped waiting. Slinging the emergency pack over my shoulder, I turned and walked away into the chaos of war.

Action Modern Romance

9.8

The Presumed Dead Ex-Wife's Spectacular Comeback

9.8

On the night of her seventh wedding anniversary, Annabelle waited by a cold dinner, only for her husband Julian to kick the doors open, carrying his bleeding sister-in-law, Jocelyne. Jocelyne had committed a horrific drunk driving hit-and-run, and Julian demanded Annabelle sign a plea deal and go to prison to protect the family's stock prices. What truly broke Annabelle wasn't Julian's ruthless betrayal, but her own twin sons. Her own flesh and blood stood fiercely in front of Jocelyne to protect her. "Nobody even likes you anyway, Mother. If you go to jail, everything stays normal." Julian stripped her of every cent, locked her in a remote estate, and chased her to the edge of a cliff with his bodyguards when she refused to be their scapegoat. Looking at the man she had loved for seven years and the children she had devoted her life to, her heart turned to ice. Why was her endless sacrifice rewarded with being a disposable shield for a manipulative liar? Standing on the jagged cliffs, she played the dashcam audio proving Jocelyne's guilt to a suddenly horrified Julian. "You don't deserve the truth." Then, she stepped backward off the cliff into the raging black ocean. Two years later, she returned to the city as an untouchable, powerful elite, walking right past a broken, miserable Julian without a second glance.

Action Modern Romance

I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother

Chapter 6

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