He Called Me Ugly. I Became His Biggest Regret. Chapter 11

He Called Me Ugly. I Became His Biggest Regret. Chapter 11

Marco DeLuca was never named Don. 

Within the year, his father Don Emilio stepped down – forced 

by the scandal his son had dragged to the Family name. 

Marco’s younger cousin inherited. Marco’s exile upstate was 

quietly made permanent. No ceremony. No announcement. 

Just: permanent. 

I graduated Columbia with honors. I built a career that 

needed no prefix – not “consigliere’s daughter,” not “former 

fiancée of.” Just Lucia Bianchi. A force in my own right. 

Adrian proposed on the same bench overlooking the Hudson. 

where I’d first kissed him. I said yes. 

My father’s engagement speech made half the room cry. 

Valentina Rossi was never accepted into any major Family’s 

inner circle. 

The recording I sent her had circled back – edited, 

anonymized, but unmistakable. 

She transferred to a smaller operation out west. We never spoke again. 

As for the three words. 

The ones I returned to Marco in the café. 

They followed him. Through his exile. Through the years. He would remember forever: the way I looked at him – calm, final, entirely unmoved. And the words I’d chosen to end us 

with. 

The same structure he gave me. The same devastating simplicity. 

“You’re ugly.” 

“You’re filthy.” 

Three words for three words. Blade for blade. 

I only ever returned what he gave me first. 

[The end]