He Rewrote My Marriage Contract for His Uncle—So I Became the Real Donna Chapter 05

He Rewrote My Marriage Contract for His Uncle—So I Became the Real Donna Chapter 05

Dante stood at the center of the altar. His black suit cut 

a sharp line across his shoulders, and his legs – those legs the whole world had written off – held him tall and straight, steady as a monolithic pillar. 

Every rumor, every whisper about the man being crippled, collapsed in a single breath. The hall fell into a suffocating silence. 

Then someone whispered, barely louder than an 

exhale. “He’s standing.” 

“Dante’s actually standing? How is that possible?” 

Heads turned. Eyes widened. Shock swept the room, 

heavy and absolute. 

Lucien stood frozen among them, his face a wreck of rage and humiliation and shock all tangled together – a man watching the ground give way beneath him. His eyes were going hollow. 

Dante’s lieutenant stepped forward from the crowd. He 

didn’t raise his voice, but every word carried to the 

back wall. 

“Dante never stopped treatment. Never stopped 

rehabilitation.” His gaze swept the room. “He wasn’t 

hiding it for sympathy. He wasn’t hiding it for 

theatrics.” 

The man paused and turned his eyes to me. 

“He hid it because he wanted to walk to his bride today. 

On his own two feet. To give her a wedding without a 

single compromise.” 

My throat closed before I could stop it. 

The Patriarch was the first to speak. “Good,” he said. 

The single word landed with the finality of a gavel. He 

looked at Dante with unvarnished pride, then turned to 

1. me. 

“Violet.” His voice dropped, heavy and deliberate. 

“The Vale syndicate is grateful for your choice.” 

He addressed the room now, and no one moved. 

“From this day forward, she is the Donna of the Vale family. Anyone who disrespects her is declaring war on 

me.” 

The silence broke, and applause swept through the hall – scattered at first, then building, wave on wave. The people who’d been watching Lucien’s unraveling forgot 

he existed. 

Vale family guards closed ranks behind him. He was shoved to the margins like a stray mutt – too disgraced to step forward again. 

I gathered the hem of my dress and walked toward 

Dante. The red carpet stretched long, and the room had gone still again – a different kind of quiet this time. 

Every eye in the hall was on me. I didn’t see any of 

them. 

He was standing at the end of the aisle, waiting, and the look on his face–patient, steady, almost unbearably tender – told me everything I needed to 

hear before either of us said a word. 

The marriage contract had finally landed exactly where 

it belonged. 

I stopped in front of him and looked up. 

“I do.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. 

Something lit behind Dante’s eyes – a smile he was 

barely holding back. He took my hand and slid the ring onto my finger, slow and deliberate. 

“I do, too.” 

Applause crashed through the hall like thunder. 

Lucien stood somewhere behind the crowd, watching. 

His eyes had the dull, gutted look of a man forced to 

witness something he could never undo. 

No one glanced his way. Not once. 

That night, I was taken to the master bedroom. 

The moment the door closed, the world outside went 

silent. I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers still twisted 

in the fabric of my wedding dress. 

Now that the spectacle of the day had settled, anxiety 

clawed at me his legs. The adrenaline of the ceremony was fading, and the reality of his exertion set 

1. in. 

The door opened. Dante walked in no wheelchair, no 

one at his elbow, no help of any kind. 

He crossed the room and stopped in front of me, 

looking down. I bit my lip, about to ask if his legs were 

all right. 

Before I could speak, his fingers found my chin and tipped it up. His voice was low, close. “You’re thinking about another man on our wedding night?” 

I blinked. Then it registered – he meant Lucien. 

A laugh escaped me. “I was thinking about you.” 

“That’s enough,” he said. 

He leaned down and kissed me. Not rushed. Not gentle, 

either – the kind of kiss that asked no permission and 

offered no apology. Everything after that blurred. 

The wedding dress slipped to the floor. The veil was pulled away and forgotten. The heavy mahogany bedframe battered the wall for what felt like hours, and the bathroom mirror didn’t stop fogging until well past midnight. 

When he carried me to the window sometime in the 

small hours, the lights beyond the estate were still burning. My legs had gone useless and all I could do was hold on to his shoulders, his name leaving my lips in a voice I barely recognized. 

He answered every time. Low, steady, unhurried – as if he wanted to make sure I’d never forget whose bride I 

was tonight. 

The second time he lifted me out of the bath, I couldn’t 

even make a fist. He wasn’t even winded. He leaned in, 

his mouth brushing my ear. 

“Still worried about my legs?” 

I didn’t have the energy to glare. I buried my face in his 

chest instead. 

He laughed – a real one, warm and low- and carried 

me back to bed. His lips pressed to my forehead. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of chances to check.” 

I slept until the next afternoon. 

When I opened my eyes, the sunlight was cutting in at a slant and his side of the bed was empty. Only the faint 

trace of his cologne lingered on the sheets – something cool and clean. 

My entire body ached. I shifted once and immediately understood exactly what “plenty of chances” was 

going to mean. 

I was pushing myself upright when two soft knocks 

came from the door. 

“Come in.” 

The lieutenant stepped inside and dipped his head. 

“Donna.” 

I pulled my robe tighter and glanced at him. “Where’s 

Dante?” 

“The Don sent for him.” 

I nodded. No surprise there. 

Standing up in front of the entire underworld yesterday 

meant Dante had shattered every rumor that he was 

finished. The heir’s seat – the one that had been 

quietly slipping away from him – was back in play. 

After last night, every calculation in the Vale family had changed. 

The assistant didn’t leave. 

I looked at him. “Something else?” 

“Lucien is outside.” 

My hand paused on the edge of the vanity. 

“How long?” 

“Since last night. A full day.” 

I almost laughed. 

Yesterday he’d been screaming at my wedding. Today he was standing outside my door, waiting through the night like a dog tied to a post. 

The golden boy of the Vale family had finally understood exactly what he’d thrown away. 

“The Don said this is yours to handle.” 

“Understood.” I didn’t move. 

I took my time getting out of bed. Washed my face. Changed into something that fit the occasion. Then I sat at the mirror and chose a lipstick – slowly, deliberately, holding each shade to the light. 

The longer I took, the more keenly he’d feel it. 

I finally stepped outside half an hour later. 

Lucien was standing at the foot of the stairs. One 

sleepless night had wrecked him – bloodshot eyes, a 

shadow of stubble, clothes that looked like he’d been 

wearing them since yesterday. 

He lurched toward me the second I appeared, but the 

guards cut him off. 

Then his gaze dropped – and locked. 

The marks Dante had left the night before were still flushed along the side of my neck, branded into my 

skin.